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moonshine-nightlight · 2 years

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Finally Woken: Part Five

Working for the family business of traveling trade caravans, means you‘ve always accepted having to put up with a lot from your family, especially your dad. He finally goes to far when he tries to sell your prized possessions to make up for his own business failings. You’re proud of yourself for making a stand, but he’s not wrong when he says you don’t have any real connections outside the family–but he’s not completely right either.

Your closest friend happens to live in the city you’re stopped at so you decide to see if you can stay at his place until you can figure out what you’re going to. You’ve never come by the city this early, but he’s probably fully woken up from the naga’s traditional bout of hibernation by now, right?

Fantasy, friends to lovers, naga, male monster x female reader, M/F, Part 5 of 8

Story Status: Complete

AO3: Finally Woken Chapter 5

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] Part Five [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Eight - NSFW]

You reach Nell’s butcher shop after noon, as she mentioned.

It's a well established shop, looks like it's been around for over a hundred years, with a few different buildings supporting it, likely where Nell and her family or workers live. You head in with only mild trepidation, ignoring the anxiety that’s nudging you with thoughts about how maybe she hadn’t really meant her offer.

A whip-thin reptilian is using a meat slicer when you enter, but he turns when he hears her come in. “Hello,” he greets, a practiced smile on his face. “How can I help you?”

“Hello,” you reply, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m looking for—Nell!” The back curtain had moved aside while you were talking to reveal the woman herself.

Her eyes land on you immediately and she smiles. “Hey, just in time. The younger ones just went up for their nap.” She pats the man on his shoulder, murmuring something you don’t catch, before jerking her thumb towards the curtain she came through. “Follow me around back.”

Nell leads you down a hallway and out the back of the storefront building. The small courtyard has clearly been freshly planted, but is empty of others so you aren’t surprised when she says, “Around this way. We try to keep the middling ones away from the ones who need naps, but since they’re taking sunnaps on that roof,” she points to a wide flat roof in the center of what must be her family’s collection of buildings. You can’t see beyond the railing but it looks like a very nice roof patio. “There’s only so far they can go. This series of cousins only got here a few days ago from our farms. They try their best, but they’re excited to be here and see each other. So they forget how loud they’re being—youngens.” She rolls her eyes as she says it, clearly exaggerating her disapproval because she can’t be more than a few years older than you, and you laugh.

You turn the corner to another small yard backed up against a tall fence to the buildings next door.

“Oi,” Nell says to the six or so people hanging out in this yard. You’re not sure you’d call them kids, but you’d put them around the same age as the students you were tutoring at the university. The majority are reptilians similar enough to Nell to appear obviously related, but not all of them are. They do seem bored, looking up instantly at the sound of her voice, so maybe Nell hadn’t been exaggerating. Or maybe they just know to be ready when Nell calls for their attention. “Which of you are coming?”

A thin, bright blue reptilian who looks more similar to the man at the counter inside than Nell stands up. He looks a year or two older than the others and he peers at you curiously. Another reptilian, but one built broader and colored green-grey like Nell, but without the tattoos, sticks out a hand from where he leans against the wall. Finally a gorgon woman who’d been lounging in a chair sideways stands up too, cracking her back as she does so.

“Sasha cheated,” one of the boys still seated grumbles and is swatted on the back of his head for his trouble. “Hey!”

“Did not. You’re just pissed you lost,” Sasha teases, the snakes of her hair look smug.

“You three?” Nell looks them over appraisingly and you’re pretty sure, regardless of what they’ve decided amongst themselves, she’s still giving the final approval. And they know it given the way they all straighten. “Suppose you’ll do. Come on then.”

She introduces you, explaining you need some help moving, as she leads you back around the way you came. “Also, this will also be a good test run for deliveries since you’ll be dropping off a large order for a long-standing, valuable customer.” Again, that makes them perk up a little more, paying that much more attention to Nell’s words. They seem to be trying to practice teenage indifference, but it's undermined by how interested they are in proving themselves capable.

They end up in a large barn with two very clear separate sides: one for various carts and vehicles and the other side for large beasts of burden. Unlike the horses, donkeys, or even oxen you might have expected, there are large monitor lizards in pens. You’ve seen your fair share of unusual mounts before, but not ones like these before. Although, you don’t know many reptilians or lizardfolk or even that many naga like Heshi. They certainly look strong, just lower to the ground than you’d expect.

Nell leads you past the stalls to where one is already hitched to a cart bearing the name of her shop on it.

“Michi’ll be your driver,” Nell says as the older, blue reptilian steps forward to start checking the straps hitching the large lizard to the cart, “and he knows how to handle the beast.” She gives the lizard a fond pat that she barely reacts to beyond a flick of her tail. “She’s used to the city traffic,” Nell turns to Michi and sternly adds, “but you’re not—so make sure she doesn’t try to take advantage of that and get into things she shouldn’t.”

“I got it, Nell,” he replies, only mildly defensive.

“Right,” she replies dryly. “You two, over here. Sasha, let’s see if you’ve been paying attention to your cold storage lessons and if both of you have listened when I told you how to pack a delivery properly.”

You linger by the cart, feeling out of place as you watch Michi do his checks—at least he seems thorough. You check your bag for the lists you made last night, both of what you’d brought with you and what you had left behind. It surprised you, how many things you didn’t feel like you needed, but were just as sure you can’t leave behind. You’re not going to leave anything else for your Dad to take. You’ll decide what to do with everything after, back at your home for yourself.

When you slip the papers back into your bag, Michi asks you a bit about where exactly you’re going and you explain where your family has set up their camps just outside the city walls and where Heshi’s place is from there. It's clear he only has a broad strokes idea of the city and you end up trying to tell him more about the main thoroughfares and any tips for navigating you remember from your first visit—and from the last few days.

Soon enough Nell comes back. Sasha and Aleks each pulling a dolly loaded down with a surprising number of crates, all covered in spellwork for cold so the meat will keep until it's packed away in Heshi’s ice box. Nell supervises as they load up the cart you’re taking. She lets you know which box has more besides meat—for special service for hibernation packages that they partner with a local grocer—and that the kids know how to unlock everything and will help you store it once at the apartment.

They manage to fit everything in a surprising small amount of space, leaving plenty of room to load up with your possessions from your parents’. Shortly you find yourself up front with Michi, while the other two hang out in the back of the cart, and waving goodbye to Nell.

Michi seems to need a minute or two to get a handle of Taiga, but soon enough they’re moving into the city at a good pace.

“I’ve never seen a Sanush camp before,” Michi says, breaking the silence.

“No reason for most people to come,” you say with a shrug, hoping he wasn’t going to be strange about it. Some people seemed to think there were lots of interesting secrets in a Sanush camp instead of just a lot of tents. “We go to our partners, so there’s nothing really to do there unless you’re, you know, in the family.”

You’re not sure if Michi picks up on your mild discomfort or not, but he just nods. “How long are you sticking around for? Or I guess how long is your family here for since you’re staying, right?”

“Yeah,” you reply, the weight of your decision hitting you again. It's more novel than anything to go so many days without seeing your family—the idea of going months, of them being leagues away is almost impossible to really wrap your mind around. “For at least another month. The passes cleared early this year, but I think my Uncle–he makes most of the final decisions for our family–is just going to spend the additional time here, rather than moving on to Menca early and so on.”

He ends up telling you more about his trip here, where the farm he grew up on is, and you find yourself approaching your family campsite sooner than you expect. You’d told your Great Aunt Carina when you were going to come to get your things and, despite her clear disapproval at you leaving the family business—seeing it as leaving the family—she waves you through easily, not even pausing in her mending.

You’re not sure what you expect when you get to where your tents are, but it's not your mom waiting for you outside. She calls your name with a practiced smile, sending away your aunt she’d been chatting to with a wave.

“Hi, mom,” you say, inexplicably nervous as you clamber down.

While Michi fusses with Taiga, you and your mom exchange pleasantries. It only takes you actually starting to head in for her to say, “Are you sure this is really necessary?”

You try hard not to freeze as you turn back to her, deciding to play dumb. “What do you mean? I can’t carry everything myself.”

She frowns and says with mild reproach, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you frown back. “I’ve moved out, so yeah, I think I need the rest of my things.”

Your mom’s eyes are sharp on your face, searching for something. You don’t know what she finds, but she backs off. “Right, right. Very well.” Her eyes land on Michi and she points at him. “You—” He blinks in surprise. “Can this beast stay tied by itself or do you need to stay with her?”

“She’ll behave,” he says, clearly offended at the implication she might be badly behaved.

“Good, you can help with the books,” she says, motioning him over and turning to you. “I had them boxed up, in case, well, in case. You should focus on your clothes.” Leave it to your mom to suddenly put herself in charge of your packing up, even though you can tell she still doesn’t really agree with your decision. Honestly, you're grateful she’s not pushing like you expected. You were expecting another guilt trip about leaving the family or being too sensitive to your dad’s comments and actions. You’ll take micromanagement with mild disapproval over another fight.

“Okay, mom,” you say, as if that isn’t what you’ve been planning to do in the first place.

You have Sasha and Aleks follow you to your tent, which your uncle had secured as a gesture of good faith and which had pissed your dad off. Even thinking about it now makes you wanna shake him—if he didn’t want to be treated like a thief, he shouldn’t have stolen from you.

“Orders, boss?” Aleks asks with a grin, standing at a bad approximation of attention.

You roll your eyes, but begin directing the two to pack up your bedding and other similar items while you begin packing the clothing you’d left here.

Five minutes later, when you hear the tent flap, you say, “I think next you should grab the lighting so you can use—” Your words cut off when you turn around to see your dad standing there. “Oh.”

“Still haven’t come to your senses?” he asks with a little too much anger in his eyes to hit the pure paternal disappointment he seems to be aiming for.

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything, if that’s what you mean,” you reply, already feeling defensive. “I’ve already moved out—this is just, just a formality.”

He scoffs. “That’s what this is? That’s what this family means to you?”

“That’s what you made this family into,” you snap back, unable to keep it in.

He takes a step forward, bristling. “I did? I’m not the one who’s overreacting and blowing things out of proportion. I thought you were more mature than this, throwing a tantrum because your feelings got hurt.”

You find yourself shaking with rage. How are you having this conversation? Again? “Who bought my flute?”

“That’s not—”

“Who?” you talk over him for the first time, possibly ever, because for once you know beyond a doubt you are right. “I did! I paid for it with my money. And you stole it. What would the ‘appropriate’ reaction be? What would you have done if I did this to you?”

He doesn’t say anything and so you continue, “Because I bet we would have been here—except because you kicked me out after making me repay you every penny and then some.” You can’t even keep looking at him and you want to just be done with this. You stop folding neatly and start packing as briskly as you can.

“Sacrifices are sometimes necessary,” he says and you have never wanted to hit someone more than you do at this exact moment just to make them stop talking. “I thought you understood—.”

You whirl around. “No, I don’t understand theft. I don’t understand going behind my back and taking from me and then trying to justify it.” You talk over him when he starts trying to argue again. “You didn’t even have the guts to tell me what you did yourself—you let me find it missing. Even if you thought I wasn’t pulling my weight or working hard enough, then you tell me. I’m not a misbehaving little kid you can punish by taking away their presents.

“But that’s how you still see me, right?” You don’t think you’ve ever aired your problems with everything your dad does for so long uninterrupted and you feel reckless, sweep up in the momentum as you continue talking, “Anything I have is stuff I bought because you gave me the money, not because I earned it. And I worked damn hard for us so that’s crap.

“Don’t even pretend that the problem you’re having right now isn’t because your deal with the Havoratis went up in smoke, literally. And the answer to that was that we all have a few leaner months since goodness forbid we ask for help from the rest of the family. And we’d been doing that, but you don’t actually want to give anything you care about up, so you decided to figure out a way around it.”

“You always say we need to be able to predict and live with the consequences, so here we are,” you finish, almost panting as you gesture to the box you’re packing your clothes into.

Your dad looks truly surprised and at a loss for words in a way you’ve never seen before. You stare at each other in tense silence and just when he seems to have pulled himself back together, the tent flap opens again.

Sasha freezes when she walks in, her hair snakes hissing in discomfort at the tension in the air, making your dad instinctively take a step away from her. “Uh, should I come back?”

“No,” you say, pulling yourself back together. Part of you is disappointed that you know your dad won’t say anything else with someone here, but you’re also relieved that you don’t need to hear whatever he would have come up with. “Can you help with the lamps?”

“Sure thing,” she says, eying your dad before heading over to the two lanterns by where you used to sleep.

You realize you’re holding a dress in your hands still and try to refold it, a rush of adrenaline leaving you, although you remain aware of exactly where your dad is and that he’s staring at you. “Where did you even find these—”

“Need any help in here, ma’am?” You look over to find the broadest of your temporary helpers in the tent’s entry way.

“Sure, Aleks.” Maybe you’re petty but you enjoy the way your dad’s face pinks, whether it's from anger or embarrassment at Aleks’ interruption and clear disregard of him, showing he answers to you alone. “I was having trouble with that box.”

“On it,” he says with a wink, easily picking up the box with your winter coats. Before he can start to head out with it, your dad just leaves. You stare at the tent flap and know he isn’t coming back. You breathe for a moment before turning resolutely back to the few clothes remaining. Silence only broken by the sound that accompanies packing fills the tent and slowly, you start to relax.

“Hey.”

You look up to see your brother pushing aside the tent flap to come in because apparently everyone in your family wants to stop by. He looks as he always does. Were you expecting him not to? You’ve only been gone for a week or so—but it's longer than you’ve ever gone without seeing him before. “Hey, how’ve you been?”

“Good.” He leans against one of the center tent poles. “I keep missing you whenever you come by to teach Gie though.”

You shrug. “Avoiding Dad, sorry.”

He snorts. “Can’t blame you there. He’s been in a bad mood since you left—when he isn’t pretending everything’s fine, I mean.” He rolls his eyes—at least his spot as the favorite had never led to him idolizing your dad, even if he’s never been as aware of the favoritism as you’d like. He's never held back from calling out Dad when he wants to, it's just—he can get away with it.

Dad listens to him.

Still, you feel a pang of guilt that you’ve inadvertently made everything hard for everyone else.

“Not that it’s your fault.” You look up to see your brother with a skeptical eyebrow raised, clearly having guessed at your thoughts. It surprises you, that he noticed. “He just so used to making everything go his way.” He smirks. “It's been kinda funny, watching him realize that’s not gonna happen this time. And Uncle is paying him more attention than he has been, which he doesn’t like.”

“That wasn’t why I did it, why I left,” you feel the need to say. The petty part of you is glad Dad’s getting some consequences you think he deserves, but… “I didn’t do it to mess with him.”

“No, I know,” Lio says. “You did it because he crossed a line. Thinking back, I’m surprised you didn’t leave sooner.”

“And go where?” you can’t help but reply, not liking the implication that you’d had opportunities you’d just passed up or that you could have left at any time. “I was just lucky we were here when he did it. Otherwise, I might have had to come back.”

“Yeah? I think you would have been fine wherever,” he says with a shrug.

You huff a disbelieving laugh. In a way you feel flattered he thinks that, but you think it's more a matter of underestimating how difficult the world is, than having a great deal of faith in you. Even here, he’s never had the difficulties you have. “I don’t think you realize how hard it is, to make it on your own.”

He frowns at that, surprised you’re pressing the point. “I’m not a little kid, I know how stuff works. But come on, it’s not as vicious as they like to pretend it is. They always play it up to encourage us to stick to the family. And you’re not on your own.”

“Exactly,” you reply. “That’s why I’m lucky to be here. Where I can stay with my friend and not worry about having a roof over my head, not burn money on lodgings, where I know my way around.” Your eyes dart to Sasha, who’s frowning concentration as she disassembles your favorite chair. “Where he can have his friends make their cousins help me move.”

“I guess,” he says, still frowning. He opens his mouth before he shuts it again. “You know, I’d have helped you if you needed it, right?” When you just blink in surprise, he crosses his arms, looking almost defensive. “I have money saved up too. Dad’s being stupid, but if you wanted out, I’d have helped.”

You’re not who it says more about, but you are surprised. While you didn’t really think he’d take Dad’s side exactly, you mostly thought he’d be ambivalent about you leaving if you ever thought about what his opinion would be on that hypothetical—because you had thought about leaving before. Honestly, he’d never really factored into it much, except that if you failed, he’d have been another person who’d witness it. Even now, you just… didn’t think he really cared one way or another. He’s never really taken your complaints about your life very seriously, always suggesting what he’d do and not getting that it wouldn’t work out for you that way.

Stupid as it was, Dad always gives everything Lio says or does more weight because he’s a boy. Lio’s also just more laid back, confident, and less anxious than you are. No amount of knowing that makes you able behave like him. And since he is on the customer and client facing side of the business, his value is a lot more obvious and straight-forward than yours. Dad sees what he brings to the table as more important, sees him as more important. And he feels the opposite about you.

You didn’t think Lio would throw you under the wheels or anything, but he’s definitely said things that echo what your dad says enough that you wouldn’t have asked for his help. Some of that is pride, older siblings nonsense about having to ‘stoop’ for your little brother's help and wanting to prove you could do it on your own.

You’re still surprised he’d have even thought to offer his help

You push all of that aside, hoping it doesn’t show on your face. “Thanks,” you say instead, hoping he can tell you mean it. “I appreciate it. I’m good for now though, staying with my friend is keeping costs low and I’ve got enough savings. Working on some tutoring stuff, getting licensed for here—that type of thing.”

“Of course you are,” Lio rolls his eyes with a smile. “I bet you been at the library half the time.” You freeze and hope he can’t read the expression on your face, but it's obvious he does as he smirks. He leans forward to tease. “Ha! I knew it. Why do you think I’d offer? I know you’d be good for the money. So responsible and boring. I hope you’ve been doing something fun too.”

You grumble good-naturedly. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I have fun.”

Lio snaps his fingers. “I almost forgot. Where’s your new address?” he asks. “You’re staying with you glassmaker friend, right? I convinced Aunt Dee that I’d still manage to negotiate with him, if not as well as you did, even with what’s gone on.”

“You got the berries?” you ask hopefully, although his compliment didn’t go unnoticed. You just don’t know what to say. So you ignore it. You focus on how pleased you are you haven’t ruined Heshi’s chances to get his precious berries.

“Yup and some, you know, gold too,” he jokes.

You wave that off. “Gold he can get from other people. We already ate all the berries I had.”

“Such exciting times you have,” he nudges you.

You roll your eyes. “Well, he’s still waking up from hibernation. I’m sure we’ll do more once he’s awake longer. Although we did finish that liquor…”

“Truly living on the wild side,” he jokes. “Really leaning into the sleepover part of having a roommate, huh? Did you braid each other’s hair too?”

You flush, both at the sleeping comment and the hair comment. His face lights up immediately, “Holy shit, you did. That’s hilarious.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, pulling out your list of your possessions and trying to busy yourself making sure you’ve gotten everything. You can’t linger on how much you enjoyed braiding and you worried he’ll be able to tell with his little brother senses.

Of course, he doesn’t let it go regardless. “I’m so glad you're living your cliche dreams with your new roommate. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Right, if Lio takes over the negotiation, he’ll meet Heshi. You suddenly regret complaining about how annoying your brother is as much as you have to Heshi in your letters. You want them to get along but...

“Something you wanna share?” he asks after seeing your mildly guilty expression.

“Let me know before you do so I can talk to him first,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

“Whhhyyyy?” he asks, drawing out the word in a way he knows bothers you.

“Um, just, you know, sometimes when I get annoyed, I write Heshi and like, he hasn’t said anything about you, but let’s just say it's probably for the best that he’s too sleepy to help me grab my stuff.”

“Are you saying you’ve besmirched my good name?” he says with a grin. “How could you?”

“Oh whatever, like you haven’t complained to your friends about me,” you roll your eyes.

He laughs and you join in.

“Ma’am?” you look up to see Aleks pushing aside the tent flap. “Anything else you want me to grab?”

You scan the room and shake your head. “No, I think we’ve got everything. I’m gonna do one more sweep,” you brandish your checklist, “but anything left will be small. You guys can all head back to the cart and then we can head home.” You pause for a second, realizing how true that statement is because it truly is already your home, not this tent with your family, but the apartment with Heshi.

He gives you a cheeky salute and heads out.

You continue to chat with Lio as he catches you up on some family gossip and some of the deals that are going differently since you’re here earlier than usual. Soon enough, you’re pretty sure you have everything. He promises to send along anything he spots of yours that gets left behind and you promise to write him a good time for him to come by and trade with Heshi.

“Oh, I almost forgot—here you go.” He tears off the top of the paper he’d written down your new address on. “Got Dad to tell me where he sold your flute yesterday. Maybe you can still get it back.”

You stare at him because Lio is a smooth talker, but usually for his own benefit only. It’s strange how you leaving is revealing so much about your brother. “Really?” A grin breaks out over your face as you accept the piece of paper. You pull him into a hug that he reciprocates with a little more strength than usual. “Thanks, Lio.”

[Part Six]

#my writing #story: finally woken #finally woken #short story #naga #male naga #male monster #monster bf #terato #exophilia #osha compliant #my weekend keep staying so busy but the update is here #relatively heshi light i know #but the next few parts will be all heshi lol #new posting plan is to have this whole story posted by the end of june #so there will be a few non-sunday updates #depending on when i can get stuff written #so keep an eye out #story part

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thefandomcassandra · 8 months

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Malaprop (3/9): Clean Up the Debris and Tie the Noose

mal·a·prop — /ˈmaləˌpräp/ (n) - the mistaken use of a word in place of a similar-sounding one, often with unintentionally amusing effect, as in, for example, “dance a flamingo ” (instead of flamenco ). — He shouldn't be here. (Sequel to Champion)

Content Warning: disordered eating, smoking, alcohol, drug use, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, body horror

Reigen's alarm woke him with screaming klaxons. It was tinny, pitchy, and the same every morning. He had set it half an hour in advance so he could slam snooze and roll over. He did just that.

Twelve minutes later, his alarm went off again. He hit snooze.

Twelve minutes later, his alarm went off again. This time he got up and slowly made his way to the bathroom.

Face, hair, teeth. Shower if he had the time or energy—not today, it seemed. Keys, wallet, shoes, out the door. Lock it. Check to see if he locked it. Double-check.

Doubt himself the whole way to work, even though he had his keys in his damn pocket.

His stomach hurt. It'd been doing that lately, little twinges that turned into pangs if he thought about it too long. He should really invest in quick food. Some kind of granola. Hell, even fucking smoothies. Anything to take the edge off.

Work was...it was work. It was always work. He pretended to be some kind of good person. He lied about being psychic. He gave some foolish sod a massage and force-fed them spoonfuls of self help platitudes about this, that, or the other and then it was a couple thousand yen in the lockbox and see you next week.

Sometimes there was something new here and there. The kid the other week who thought he was being haunted (it was a small cat that lived near his house causing a fuss), the woman two days ago who said she felt like she was being watched (stalker, easily taken care of), and the man yesterday who insisted he was also a psychic (he just wanted someone to talk to after his children grew up and left home). But overall? Same thing day in, day out.

Close shop, lock up, and walk home. There was this black cat that followed him sometimes. Today it was there so he bent down and pet it. It meowed at him and purred.

("Do you know how incredibly lucky you are that you haven't starved like this before? What was feeding you? It was keeping you alive. You will not have that luxury here.")

He walked past the convenience store and, giving in to the desire itching at his lungs, bought a carton of cigarettes so he wouldn't have to stop by tomorrow. He was going through them faster and faster these days. If he wasn't careful, he might wind up like his pops, with a pack a day habit. That'd be an easy way to hemorrhage money that he couldn't afford. So one carton for a month, no more no less, and he could cut back.

The pang in his stomach flared up so he bought a hamburger from MobDonalds. A treat. He deserved a treat every now and then.

It didn't help all that much.

He fumbled his keys on the way back in, dropped them, hit his head on the doorknob when he bent down, hit his head on the way back up too, then finally unlocked his door. Dinner was cup ramen. It also wasn't as filling as he would have liked. He collapsed in his bed and stared at the ceiling.

It was getting harder and harder to go to sleep these days.

His alarm woke him with screaming klaxons.

("I wonder," the fly on his garbage can posited, "how long you can keep this up. Already you are fraying at the edges. You're strong-willed, even without your past emboldening you, but I can see the scars beneath the surface. This is the truest version of yourself." It rubbed its feet together and fluttered its wings, bluebottle eyes watching with scrutiny. "When you finally give way, it will be an implosion, beautiful and catastrophic. I cannot begin to express my delight at the thought.")

Reigen took another smoke break. He shouldn't be smoking as much but it cut the hunger—the strange hunger that he could not place or satiate—so why wouldn't he? If it made the discomfort go away, even as a stop-gap, then it would be worth the monetary cost. As he exhaled a plume of smoke, he wondered what his life would be like if he just kept his head down and did as he was told.

It would be easier, sure, but certainly more boring. He liked fighting for what he wanted, tooth and claw. He was a stubborn kind of man.

("When you finally choose to debase yourself, lower yourself to that of an animal," the crow on the telephone pole pointed out, "you will truly be your most authentic self. What a pity your little friend won't be able to see the process. He might learn something from the whole ordeal.")

Laying in bed at night was a ritual more than a relief. Sleep never came, no matter how hard Reigen tried. Warm milk, alcohol, more medication than he probably should take, no matter how much of what cure he used, sleep eluded him. So lately he just laid there, stared at the ceiling, and silently screamed.

He knew how many cracks were on his bedroom ceiling. He knew when his neighbor's mistress left and his wife came back. He knew when the children across the hall had a holiday break. He knew every intricacy of the people upstairs' sex life. He knew the exact minute every morning that the dog upstairs was taken for a walk, like clockwork.

He wanted this to stop. He wanted it to end. He wanted to sleep more than anything in the world, the screaming hollow in his chest stealing any joy he might have had in his miserable life. He felt grey and washed out, as dark as the night.

And then the sun came up and he finally found respite, eyelids iron curtains slamming shutters on his mental shop. His childish complaints faded to bitter grumbles and his consciousness melted into nothingness.

Minutes later, his alarm went off.

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#mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #malaprop #the sheepy writes fic #this is the latest chapter #wednesday will be the posting schedule #so keep an eye out #anyway uh this one is rough because mogami is really mogami #motherfucker unlimited (derogatory)#mogami gets his hooks DEEP into reigen #and this ends in like...suicide attempt (at the end of the chapter)#so be warned #i wanna be good for you my readers #a good steward #conscientious and all

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