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myherowritings · 4 years

Text

anywhere the wind blows

SUMMARY. After hunting a bounty near Wangshu Inn, you sensed the faint scent of qingxin blowing in the familiar wind. It seemed like it was leading you somewhere.

PAIRING. xiao x reader

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

GENRE. fluff, pre 1.3 release

A/N. my first genshin fic of my fav character xiao !! i’m definitely still getting used to writing for this world and for him but i hope this isn’t too bad 🥺 i’m so excited for xiao’s story and banner and can’t wait to learn more about him! if 1.3 comes and totally undermines the small guesses abt the lore i added into this fic then…we pretend we do not see u.u ANYWAY PLS ENJOY xx sof

“A rock shieldwall Mitachurl with a resistance to cryo,” you murmured to yourself with a satisfied smile, picking up the ominous mask and heavy horn that it dropped from the fight. “No more terrorizing Wangshu for you.”

You had just accepted a bounty handed out to you in Liyue and arranged for the proper party to come pick it up. The rewards were promptly transferred to your tab and you bade the team who came to collect the Mitachurl a swift goodbye.

It wasn’t normally on your daily agenda to hunt bounty for money—though the mora was quite appealing, you couldn’t lie—but when the beasts were too close to civilization and scared both residents and passerbyers in Liyue alike, you felt a greater need to step in. And now, after a job well done with some mora in your pockets, you realized just how tired and hungry that search made you.

Looking up, you saw the peak of the inn from a distance and followed the silk flower-covered path there. It wasn’t often you frequented Wangshu Inn, but you have visited enough to know their Jueyun Chili Chicken and Almond Tofu were pretty solid reasons to drop by again.

Your appearance was rather disheveled from your fight with the Mitachurl but you weren’t too messy-looking—certainly decent enough to interact with other humans you hoped. Smoothing down your clothes and practicing a smile, you headed over to the outdoor dining area and were greeted by a waitress who led you to an empty table as she asked for your order. The exchange was pleasant enough and you were soon left to your own devices once your food swiftly arrived.

It was dark out in Wangshu. The bounty hunt took most of your late afternoon and by now the sun had fully set. The dining area was quiet and empty with only the moon watching over you.

You hummed, taking in a mouthful of the sweet Almond Tofu. The night was nice and peaceful and quiet, just like most of your evenings.

A familiar breeze blew against your face, chilling yet warm. Captivating. There was a faint smell of qingxin, like the flowers you grew fond of during your explorations around Liyue’s stone forests.

The wind was different from what you experienced in Mondstadt. That air was light and playful. Free.

The wind you felt just now, on the other hand, seemed to convey something more wistful. Almost yearning.

And it wasn’t your first encounter with this qingxin-filled breeze either. When you helped comfort Little Luo back in Qingce Village and fended off the pesky Hilichurls on her trail, this wind blew around you and cooled the heat from your cheeks. Around Bubu Pharmacy when you spent time with Qiqi, a zombie you happened to stumble upon one day, you felt the same curious breeze.

Part of you felt like you were being watched over. But not in a bad way. It made you feel safe and protected, yet empowered enough to continue your bold expeditions and help the people of Liyue when you were needed.

The wind stuck around as you finished your meal, the aroma of Almond Tofu wafting through the air from the wandering breeze, almost as if it was seeking a taste. Once your plates were cleared and your drink emptied, you headed inside the inn and hoped they had a spare room on such a short notice and—to your surprise—for once they actually did.

On the way up the stairs, you passed by an open balcony near the top of the inn where you caught a glimpse of a lean figure with dark hair looking up at the night sky. You normally would have walked away from the balcony and left the man to his own devices, promptly going to your rented room to get some much needed rest, but the familiar scent of qingxin flowers dancing in the wind made you freeze mid-step.

Wangshu Inn wasn’t too far from mountain tops where qingxin grew… It could have been a mere coincidence.

But in Liyue, you knew that believing such things could be a coincidence would simply be fooling yourself.

The person on the balcony gave no indication that he felt your gaze, but you knew intuitively that he had already sensed your presence despite not having moved a single inch. His stance was so steady you might have thought he was a statue if not for his teal-tinged hair blowing in the wind.

Could he have been the cause of the qingxin breeze that recently started following you around?

“Hi,” you said gently to more formally announce your presence. On the off-chance he didn’t realize anyone was there, you definitely didn’t want to startle him. But judging by the unsurprised expression on his face as he slowly looked over his shoulder, you sincerely doubted he was one to startle easily. “May I stand here?”

His eyes were scrutinizing but not unkind as they looked you up and down. You took your time examining him as well— From the top of his silky-looking hair to the blue tattoos wrapping around his arms and to the mysterious horned mask hanging from his hip.

“I suppose you may,” he finally replied with a single nod, his voice neither welcoming nor rude.

You stood a few feet away from him, leaning against the wooden balustrades as you let the cool air hit your face. The night was quiet and calm, dimly lit by the moon peeking through the foggy sky. Sighing, your eyes fluttered shut in contentment as you felt the wind soothe the aches from the bounty hunt in your muscles.

You wouldn’t normally let your guard down like this in front of someone you just met, but for some reason you weren’t the least bit on edge. He didn’t seem like a stranger. And you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t.

“Have we met before?” you found yourself wondering aloud. The mask on his hip looked familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, like you’ve seen it in a book you’ve read. And the air around him certainly felt familiar, though it seemed strange to describe why.

He didn’t respond.

Huffing, you tried a different approach. A more direct one. “Have you been following me?”

His brow raised but he uttered no words.

Was that approach too direct?

After a moment of silence, he said, “Were you not the one who followed me out onto the balcony? If I remember correctly, I was here first.”

“But were you not the one who drew me here with your qingxin-scented breeze?” you shot back, tone more curious than biting.

To your surprise, he said nothing to deny it. “Attentive, I see.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite that I’m attentive rather than you wanting me to know.” You hid a smile. He wouldn’t have made it so obvious otherwise, you were certain of it. For someone who held more power in his little finger than you could possibly fathom, you knew that him alerting you of his existence couldn’t be a mere accident.

“You’re right.” He shrugged. “But it’s not so much that I wanted to call you here than I didn’t mind if you happened to stumble by.”

You ran the palms of your hands over the railings, craning your neck to the side to face him. He was a puzzling creature, giving off the aura of something greater and more powerful than a human. The ominous mask dangling around his hip seemed to serve as a word of caution to indicate a menacing side he hadn’t shown you, but his calm stance and the small tilt of his head made him seem curious—almost inviting.

It was intriguing, to say the least.

“And why did you want me to, as you say, stumble by?” you said. “Not that I mind.”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, shaking his head and looking confused himself. “Intuition? I noticed you fighting, helping the people of Liyue. You’re doing a...good job.”

You shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck as you shied away from his praise. “So you summoned me here to thank me?”

“I don’t know,” he said again, his impassive tone sounding almost frustrated.

At the small frown playing on his lips, you couldn’t help but let a noise of laughter escape you. He gazed at you in question. This whole situation seemed strange and peculiar, straight out of a dream you’d have at random only to forget the next morning. He seemed strange and peculiar, like a figure out of a story book lost in the ruins of Liyue.

And yet you found yourself enjoying this odd encounter.

“Well, Mr. Stranger, since you seem uncertain of so many things still, are you going to continue to have your wind follow me around Liyue until you figure whatever it is out?” you questioned teasingly, not at all minding that prospect.

He glared, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s not that I was following you. I only sensed someone in need but happened to see you rushing along the way and decided to let you handle it. The less involvement in the affairs of mortals, the better.”

So he wasn’t a mortal himself, you thought, his words confirming your previous suspicions. Still…

“Is that so?” You quirked a brow. “And what is this if not for involvement in the affairs of a mortal?”

He folded his arms and didn’t say a word.

“Let me guess— You don’t know?”

“Hmph.”

You smiled. “Well, I guess it’s okay you don’t know. It’s okay not to know sometimes, you know?”

He blinked. “You aren’t making sense.”

“And you are?” you retaliated. “I still don’t know who you are or anything about you yet. But… I know you smell like qingxin flowers and feel like a cooling breeze. And I know that I rather enjoy it.”

The mysterious entity looked out into the mountain scenery, gloved hand resting on the dark balustrade. He seemed both lost in thought and completely aware of his physical surroundings at the same time. Suddenly, he spoke up.

“Xiao.”

Your gaze met his as he nodded once. “Xiao?”

“My name. Now you know who I am.”

You laughed, startled by how blunt he was. “I guess you’re right. Nice to meet you Xiao.”

“Hm.” Xiao waited one moment before he asked, “Do you plan to keep exploring Liyue?”

At his question, you briefly considered your options for the near future. You liked Liyue and there was so much you had left to see. Was it like home to you? No— Not yet anyway, though it could be if the situation was right. But that didn’t mean you wanted to leave just yet.

Not when you may have found a reason you would want to stay.

“For the time being, yes.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “That’s good. You being there to help the people of Liyue means less involvement with mortal affairs for me.”

Though his tone was haughty, he didn’t seem like he actually minded what he considered mortal affairs. If he did, why would he be so alert when he sensed people in need?

“And, if you ever need assistance during your ventures, I’ll be there.”

Xiao’s words comforted you as you looked at him, his hair blowing in the wind. Maybe one day you could reach out and touch it. But not today.

You sensed this meeting was about to end. The breeze picked up and you could feel him getting ready to leave. Whether he was going to leave to go to bed or leave the mortal world, you weren’t sure. But you would rather treasure this encounter than dwell on an inevitable—and hopefully temporary—farewell.

“Thank you, Xiao. And if you ever need assistance with...whatever it is you do, I’ll be there too!” you said confidently. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, I’m pretty handy at weilding a sword myself.” You doubted he would ever need much help in the physical or martial department. “Or, I could simply lend an ear as well.”

It happened so fast, you weren’t sure if it was actually there, or if your eyes were playing tricks on you— Xiao smiled. At least, you thought he did. But in the mere blink of an eye, it was gone.

Still, you don’t think you would ever forget that peaceful image no matter how hard you tried. Not that you wanted to.

Sensing the night coming to an end, you asked, “When will I be able to see you like this again?”

He paused. “In this human form, you mean?”

You nodded, though you figured the answer would be those three familiar words he had said many times tonight.

“I don’t know.”

A wry smile played on your lips. Knew it.

“The mortal realm is not where I naturally belong,” explained Xiao, amber eyes glowing brighter than the moon in the sky. “But I will meet you again in this state soon.”

The scent of qingxin grew stronger as the wind picked up. His skin grew paler, almost translucent as he met your gaze one last time for the night.

“Even if it takes time, at least the wind will tell me when you’re near.” You smiled, raising your hand in a wave. “Goodnight, Xiao.”

“Sleep well, traveller.”

And in your dreams that night, with qingxin in the air, you felt contentment and serenity in ways you never had before. You would see the entrancing being who called himself Xiao again. Soon. But you had the wind to keep you company while in wait.

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao fanfiction #genshin fanfiction #genshin imagines #xiao imagines #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin xiao

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h2bakugou · 3 years

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Yes yes yes yesyesyesyesyes ok!! So then can I request present mic? Doing anything??? No I’m kidding I do actually have a prompt. I was thinking abt mic’s radio show and specifically, if he had an s/o who wrote music. Bc u know he would help them produce it and then play it nonstop on air aaaaaa

a/n: yes!! present mic love!! i love him so much i swear! <3 he has my heart dkdkmn this is such a cute request please- i apologize for the late posting!!

summary: you're an ambitious, gleeful, songbird at heart, and though you're quirkless, you've captivated the heart of the music-loving, radio show hosting, loud, sweetheart, present mic!

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1.3k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

You started as an intern. A beaming smile on your lips most days, always happy to be in the studio with Mic when he was teaching you the ins and outs of radio hosting.

You'd majored in music business, the end goal in mind of writing and releasing your own music, though most of your plans had fallen through, the only opportunity to get you back on your feet after college being this deal you couldn't pass up.

Co-hosting with Present Mic on his own radio show.

The offer had actually been given to you by one of your superiors at the studio you worked at, having seen your optimism when it came to writing music and your love of music in general.

They wished you good luck and would always welcome you back if things didn't go so well. But you kept your head up high and marched into that studio ready to take on the world alongside the loud blonde.

And down the line, three years later, you were surprised to say the least.

"Your coffee as usual." Hizashi sets down the patriotic blue U.A. thermos sent out to the teachers at the beginning of the year. Since you'd practically moved in 'unofficially' with Mic, unofficially because you weren't technically allowed to stay due to the fact you didn't work for the school, rather employed by Mic himself in his private studio, but you were the tiny exception since you did technically work in the school.

"Thanks! Hey, I was wondering if you could check this new thing I've been working on and give me some criticism, it's just a rough draft, the lyrics just kind of came to me after a shot or two at Vlad's birthday party the other night." You giggled as you tossed him the flash drive containing your latest project, the sensitive information contained on the tiny disc landing in the palm of your boyfriend's hands.

"Another song? You're blessing my ears so early in the morning. I'm dreaming! Pinch me!" He teases. Mic's been the biggest supporter of your music since he overheard the pipes you had.

You'd had that kind of night the second week of your internship, battling the oncoming hangover after drinking with your cool new pro-hero teacher friends, your thoughts turning to lyrics as you worked in the studio, the only light being the small lamp on the side Mic kept when he worked late too.

He'd forgotten his room keys in the studio again, something you realized he did often and as he stopped by to pick them back up, that's when he heard you. You sounded so angelic, almost as if you were some sort of angel.

At first, he thought maybe it was just a recording or some sort of dare he say, Melodyne filter while you were messing around in the mic at night.

But you weren't. Your authentic voice shell-shocked him, and he sort of listened to you the entire night until you nearly pissed your pants turning around and seeing him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing special really-” You’re back to reality as Mic quickly has his headphones over his ears, a large grin on his lips as he listens, his fingers tapping away to the beat already.

You work on other tasks, filtering through requests and putting them in the queue while Mic listens to your song, his heart pounding. You were so talented and he’d wish you’d give yourself a bit more credit. You have what it takes to make it big, and he’d support you every step of the way.

“You know with this and the other tracks you have, you’d have enough to push out an EP. All you need is a bit of marketing and producing, and I’d be more than willing to help!” Mic smiles, wheeling over to you, pressing an encouraging peck to your cheek.

“It sounds great, but who would wanna listen to what I write?” You giggle, toggling an advertisement as you glance over at the blonde.

“How about this, You let me help you, I’ll spread the trial around here at work and if it gets good reviews, we publish.” Hizashi is nothing short of persuasive, and for the rest of the week he has you in his studio, adding layer after layer, fine-tuning and weeding out bits of the collection of songs you’d written until you have an EP.

Long nights fueled by coffee, water, and tea, and takeout eventually land you with the very first copy of your own EP.

In your hands, it’s palpable. It’s real. It doesn’t have any cover art, or a title, let alone who sang it, but Mic hands you a sharpie and you feel this fire coursing through your veins.

You feel more than accomplished.

You scribble some title down that you’d work on later and messily sign your name for Mic to make copies and then throughout the next week, you’ve got dozens of messages flooding your inbox telling you to drop it on some streaming platforms.

And the following night Mic is consoling your tears as you hit your first 100 streams.

“I’m so proud of you.” He coos, kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his kisses, patting you on the head.

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease him.

“Says you! You named an entire song after me.” Mic huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What if ‘my beloved’ was about Marty?” You giggle. Marty, the sparkly, beautiful, elegant, beta-fish you’d adopted as the studio mascot swam around in his tank, decked out with super cool aquatic music themed stuff.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Mic laughs, his long blonde hair sweeping over his shoulders.

“Your hair always looks so nice down.” You snuggle into him, your fingers twisting around the ends. Hizashi shakes his head and stares down at you.

“And you’re as radiant as ever, my love.” Hizashi pulls you into him, snuggling his head into your neck, placing a gentle kiss to your skin as he holds you near to him.

“Do you sing, ‘Zashi?” You ask quietly.

“No comment.” Mic giggles, his laughs tickling your skin.

“Would you work on a song with me?” You ask sweetly.

“I would love to.”

Callers chime in every so often for requests, since Mic loves to annoy the listeners by playing your EP track by track almost daily. You have to knock some sense into him telling him that there’s a quota to fill and while you love how he supports you, you’ve got them stuck in your head too.

And when you play them every so often, your heart warms when someone requests one of yours to play. Even more so, when your songs rise to much more notable fame, you’re working on your own album, with the lovely producing of Mic, and it even features a lovely duet between the two of you.

In fact, something you’d found out with having so many connections to pros, was the amount of hidden talent.

You’d requested a song with Kyoka Jiro, the beautiful voice you’d heard at the school festival had belonged to her and you’d been wanting to work with her since she also shared a love for music, and though she was young, she seemed rather happy to sing, even if she might’ve been shy about it first.

An unlikely duo might’ve come from a dare, Hawks. While he was rather against the idea at first, his voice was smooth and mellow, and it clashed with yours perfectly for some sort of sappy anti-romantic love song. Whatever the case, it made charts.

But Mic continued to be your biggest supporter, no matter how or if you got big. You’d always find your way back into his arms, messing around with him on the radio show, and dodging paparazzi whenever you two left campus.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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secret-rendezvous1d · 4 years

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what about spencer having the BIGGEST crush on you but he has never said anything abt it so he just wants to be near you all the time. one day he overhears a conversation between u and penelope talking about a guy so immediately he thinks its a guy that you’re talking to (when it’s not) and things go on from there

Oh, stop-

YN gets to a point where she can’t take it any longer; she needs to tell someone the goings on in her mind.

She’s been at the unit for less then three months and everyone had welcomed her so politely and so warmly and they invited her in like she had been there for years, sharing inside jokes with certain members of the team and holding a spot in the team that no one could fill if she wasn’t there due to illness or holiday. It was a hole that was massive to fill, shoes too big, a void that hung heavy when she wasn’t around. She had her moments with each member of the team, she had already made personal memories that she would cherish forever and she had bonds stronger to some than others... or to one other person, if she had to tell the honest truth.

Spencer.

From the very first day on the job and as soon as she stepped foot off the jet for the first time for her first case as an agent, she was plunged into an order with Spencer. He made it his priority to show her the ropes; what they did when they were travelling to a scene, what to expect when they arrived at a crime scene, what they spoke about with the victim’s families and how the dealt the grief that they felt when a case was taken to heart and he made sure to tell her that if she needed to take a break then it was more than okay to hide away and shed a few tears before coming back with a clearer mind. She remembered that so clearly and so vividly; it was their first conversation, apart from their brief exchanges of ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ when they arrived at the unit and saw one another before the day began, and and it was a conversation that started off and helped blossom their friendship. From then, they were almost inseparable at the office and they worked best when they were put on an order together... the ‘dream team’ was the name they were given by the unit and it stuck so perfectly that it ended up becoming personal and meaningful.

YN just never expects to gain feelings from it...

So what was she supposed to do when she was three months into a job, three months into a friendship she felt so grateful for and three months into a chapter in her life which was something so incredible to her that she feared losing it over something as minor as falling for a colleague? A friend? What did she do?

Garcia seemed to be her only option.

A sisterly figure who always seemed to be so chipper, so bright and spritely, so sweet and kind and caring and YN felt like she could share anything and almost everything with her without worrying she was going to spread it around the office as cheap gossip that she thought should be shared. A figure she adored from the moment she met, from the moment they shared their hobbies and from the moment she offered YN a pen holder that was eccentrically designed with paper clips and pom-poms and pipe-cleaners that were glittery and brightly coloured.

With an extra coffee in the cardboard holder and a warmed croissant in a paper bag that had Garcia’s name written in scrawny handwriting, she knocks on the door and enters at the permission she was given.

“Good morning, sugar plum. How may I assist you today?”

YN grins as she leans against the table beside Penelope and passes a coffee to her, which she gratefully accepts and takes a rather heart sip and lets the warm liquid trickle down her throat, a groan of pleasure filling the room.

“You know me all too well,” she smiles and squeezes YN’s hand, “what’s the matter though? You don’t normally bring me coffee or a croissant so what can I help you with?”

“I need your help, Garcia.”

“With what? Come on, fill me in.”

YN shyly giggles and looks at her feet, the support of the table holding her securely enough that she could lean on the heels of her shoes, her thumbs picking at her nails nervously. The tingling in her stomach made her feel sick; was she really about to admit a secret she had been dreading to say aloud? For some reason, she felt like if she said it aloud then everything became real and having it become real was something she hadn’t necessarily thought about.

“So, I, uh-” she coughs nervously and takes a glance at Garcia, “I think I’ve developed some feelings for someone I just met and, and I guess I’m little nervous about it because this is the first guy I’ve actually really liked but there are things holding us back and I think it’s against the rules to even go on a date with him.”

“Against the rules? Have you never read Romeo and Juliet?”

“It’s not so easy,” YN sighs, “I don’t think he likes me anyway so it’s not really a Romeo and Juliet love story. I’m pining after someone who doesn’t like me back in that way.”

Garcia reaches over and squeezes her hand.

What neither of them notice is the movement of Spencer appearing in the doorway of the office, feeling a little intrusive as he hid himself around the corner yet still at a distance where he could hear when the conversation came to its end. A conversation he didn’t really want to listen to because it tore him to bits on the inside. His heart almost torn to shreds because the girl he liked... the only girl he had ever felt close to, who he felt a connection with, only saw him as a friend and a friend only when he saw her as something so much more than that. A reason to wake up and get to work early, a reason to find the best result in a case, a reason to smile and laugh and joke because life was for living and he felt like he hadn’t done much of that in his solo reign.

“Garcia, he’s driving me mad. Like, the good kind of mad. It’s the kind of mad where I’m thinking about him constantly, I’m imagining what it’s like to be with him in certain situations like when I’m cooking breakfast or making dinner or watching some television,” she sighs and even though her shoulders dip down, she feels a huge weight lifted from her shoulders, “heck, I even think about them when I’m you know what-ing, Garcia. That’s not healthy, is it?”

“I’m no profiler, sweet-cheeks, but I think you’re in a little too deep for this guy. He’s lucky. You should go for it with him, don’t hold back on what you feel on the inside,” she softly pokes a fingertip into YN’s chest, “your heart tells you a lot and if thats how you’re feeling towards him then ask him out. Be that big and bold girl I know you are.”

“You think so?”

Spencer desperately wants to hear Garcia deny everything that she had said before; don’t encourage her to date some idiot who didn’t know about a neat thing called respect when she could have someone who treated her perfectly, he thought to himself, someone who was standing under her nose and praying she saw him like he saw her.

“Absolutely, YN. And you have to bring him to meet me and the rest of the team as soon as possible, okay? I want to know all about the guy who stole your heart and turned you all soft and happy,” Garcia smiles.

If only she knew that she’d already met him, YN thought. xx

#spencer reid chats #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagines #matthew gray gubler imagines #also hello 2am!! this is a new time for me

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honeydots · 4 years

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127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em.

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be.

(ao3 link)

He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream.

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?”

Maybe he was in a hospital.

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning.

But what did he know?

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital. As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made.

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place.

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure.

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed.

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet.

And, he was already standing.

It wasn’t hard to pull out.

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last.

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name?

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone.

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that.

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital.

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete.

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials.

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all.

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in.

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big.

“Holy shit.”

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.”

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?”

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?”

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket.

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?”

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh… Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?”

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.”

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.”

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?”

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however.

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it?

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.”

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him.

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones.

He straightened himself up. “Okay.”

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit.

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious.

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously.

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like, just a second, okay?”

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road.

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling. He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him.

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.”

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like.

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat.

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.”

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all.

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took.

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes.

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed.

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.”

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before.

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.”

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished.

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water.

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,” Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?”

“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless.

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.”

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.”

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had.

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?”

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life.

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart.

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?”

“I don’t know.”

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into.

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?”

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn.

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.”

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store.

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get.

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories.

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival.

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head.

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too.

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.”

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought.

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all.

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line.

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out.

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave.

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no.

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad.

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him.

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better.

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection.

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank.

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him.

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed.

Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too.��

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant.

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead.

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular.

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore.

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance.

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all.

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.”

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.”

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other.

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck.

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.”

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

“And can we go in?”

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.”

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.”

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.”

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed.

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway.

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep.

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least.

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure.

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician?

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though.

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had.

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging.

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.”

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands.

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window.

The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.”

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone.

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression.

“You didn’t say a word about notes

on the phone, you know.”

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.”

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again.

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.”

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds.

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital.

Ohya held the key out to Goro.

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?”

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment.

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said.

“No sweat.”

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure.

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault.

One more deep breath.

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times.

And it was nearly empty.

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming.

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it.

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read.

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471”

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one.

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind.

This could’ve belonged to me.

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself.

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other.

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next.

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.”

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning.

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it.

“To whom it may concern,

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways.

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one.

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame.

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep.

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off.

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key?

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances.

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards.

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it.

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in.

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide.

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat.

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?”

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.”

Good. “I need to speak with her.”

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often.

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area.

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?”

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.”

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all.

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked.

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?”

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.”

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would.

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.”

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?”

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically.

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.”

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.”

“Out.”

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over.

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said.

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on.

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway.

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?”

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.”

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him.

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank.

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud.

Ohya gawked.

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.”

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.”

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?”

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.”

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.”

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top.

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up.

“We’ll see.”

#thank u for the aaaask!!!#this is shuake but akira is actually not in it at all whatsoever #also im so sorry i know the ending is. unsatisfying.#i just realized if i wanted the most satisfying ending possible this would go from 8k to like 32k at least #maybe once i post all these prompts on ao3 ill consider adding chapters to this cause i do like the premise #this is also like. my first published non comedic piece. so a lot of this is experimental for myself #anyway i hope you enjoy!!!#my fics #ask #anonymous #my p5 fics

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reddogcollar · 3 years

Text

Morning Routine

In which I make Hector have a breakdown. That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings for suicidal tendencies and a panic attack

sorry for weird formatting but its late and idc abt formats anymore <3

The only window in the cell at the top of the Garrison Tree was a small one, eye level with the table in the room so Hector could see the streets below sitting down.

Sometimes he was grateful for that. Sometimes it made him feel bitter. Most times the height made him dizzy.

Every time he wished the window had been carved up higher, or bigger, so that it'd let more light in the room.

As it was, even with the sun rising, the dark felt oppressive.

The dark wood that everything was carved in didn't help.

The dark probably wasn't actually that bad to anyone else, but to him the shadows writhed and whispered. He couldn't tell whether he was imagining the blue glints of light that would be a vile's eyes.

Even with his ties to dark magic severed, he could still see them.

He just couldn't do anything about them anymore.

Not that he really could before, he'd just learned to ignore them instead of banishing them. They'd quickly become one of his least important problems, after his brother came.

Now he was stuck in a tree with little company other than the dark.

And oh, did the dark love to talk. He tried not to feed into it, if he learned to ignore them again they'd probably get bored toying with him, but their favorite choice of topic had quickly become everything Hector had done.

You could only try not to react to your sins being recounted by the dead for so long.

It left him spending most of his time at that table, next to the window where the meager light poured in. Currently there was a tin plate of untouched food keeping him company.

The viles where stuck in the dark. They couldn't get near him in the dark.

He'd take to burning candles where the shadows were thickest, day and night if he could, but the last time he tried to light a candle he'd felt sick. He could practically feel the wax melting, running down his withered hand.

Just thinking about the sensation now made him short of breath.

Even after a year, he hadn't quite recovered from Manfred's antlers in his lung, and the resulting infection after Vincent had neglected to take care of the wound.

Working himself up did nothing to help his weakened lungs.

The viles crowding the room took notice, they noticed everything, and took to taunting him about how it felt to get stabbed, how it felt to stab the queen, how it felt to have his body stolen from under his feet.

"Did it burn?"

"Did it make you feel powerful?"

"Did it make you feel helpless?"

They all talked at once, he had a hard time deciphering what their taunts actually were. Somehow that was worse.

At least the sun was up.

Right on time, like everyday for the past year, the door creaked open and Drew stepped into the dark. The sunlight didn't read all the way across the room.

The sight of the viles crowding around Drew, like sharks to chum in the water, made Hector's stomach turn.

It always did, no matter how many time he saw it.

Drew payed them no mind, he didn't even know they were there, while he lit the candles that had been placed around the room.

Hector had lied when he asked why he couldn't simply do it himself.

He'd said he'd struggled to do it with one hand.

Which wasn't really a lie, he'd struggled. The struggle was just mostly him trying not to vomit.

By now, lighting the candles had become part of Drew's morning routine. He couldn't tell whether Drew minded that or not.

"Morning, Hector." Drew spoke to him first. More routine.

Hector failed to speak until all the candles were lit, no more shadows clawing at Drew, ineffectually trying to cross plains of existence and rip him apart.

"Good morning, Drew." Hector's voice seemed pathetic to his own ears. Thin and uncertain. Drew probably dreaded the sound of it. Hector certainly did.

Drew pulled out the second chair at the table, sitting with Hector.

That was a recent addition to the routine. With no more sightings of the Wyld Wolves, more of Drew's mornings had been freed.

Why he spent them in the Garrison Tree was beyond Hector.

"How were you last night?" Drew asked. The question was a guise, and one he asked every morning.

He wanted to know if Hector was truly alone in the cell anymore, he wasn't stupid enough to pretend anyone would actually care about his well-being anymore.

"I was alright." Hector lied, he always lied. He'd been far from alright, he hadn't even slept.

He was lucky he'd only cried early on in the night, it was less obvious like that. He wasn't in the mood to be pitied.

Drew nodded, accepting the lie whether he believed it or not.

"How'd last night treat you, Drew?" Hector asked, though by now he was sure he knew the answer.

"Better than most nights." Drew said, and Hector couldn't tell whether it was a lie or not.

Drew's answer surprised him, it was rare that he had a decent night. He'd confided in Hector briefly about nightmares, one morning after not getting any sleep three nights in a row.

Nightmares about endless battles and the risen dead.

He never asked whether those dreams about the risen dead took place in Cape Gala or Icegarden. The answer probably would've been both.

Hector nodded, accepting the answer whether it was a lie or not.

"I'm glad."

That was the truth, at least. Out of everything, Drew deserved a good night sleep at the very least.

The silence stretched on after that. Hector had a lot to say to Drew, but he'd said it all before. He couldn't imagine Drew had much to say to him.

The silence wasn't necessarily comfortable, Hector looking out the window and Drew staring at Hector like he could pry something out of him.

Whatever he might want was beyond Hector.

He'd already answered every question that applied to him.

"You haven't eaten in the mornings for the past week." Drew said, surprising Hector again.

It was true he hadn't had much of an appetite all year, especially not recently. Why in Brenn's name Drew would keep an eye on his eating habits though baffled him.

There wasn't anything he could do with that information.

"In truth, Drew, I simply haven't felt the need to eat lately." The last time he'd really felt like he had to eat was after Vincent was truly gone.

His brother hadn't really deigned to take care of the body he'd stolen.

"You do eat at least, don't you?"

Hector turned away from the window to look at Drew, though not directly in his eyes. He couldn't make eye contact with anyone yet.

He was going to ask where this sudden concern was coming from, when one of the candles fizzled out, having burned itself away completely.

He'd been aware that the candles were burning low now, but the sudden lack of light was jarring.

The sunlight didn't even reach all the way across the table, without the candle Drew was again bathed mostly in shadow.

The viles swarmed him immediately, wrapping around his throat and clawing at his face. The only thing they wouldn't touch was the White Fist.

The sight of them stole the air from Hector's weak lungs completely, practically punching it out of him and making him double over, hunched over the table unable to breathe.

He thought of all the times he'd used Vincent to break someone's neck and his stomach rolled.

He was thankful it was empty.

Baffled by Hector's reaction to a candle going out, Drew stood and went around the table. Into the sunlight. It shook the viles off him instantly.

Still, Hector couldn't look at him.

He couldn't look at him without imagining how it'd feel to break his neck with a vile.

He shook, gripping the table edge and hunching lower till he was practically laying on the table top.

The edges of his vision were going dark, he still couldn't breathe.

The room felt distant now, caught up in his mind thinking about how many lives he'd put an end to a year ago, and how many more he was ready to take.

The justification had been easy then, it was war, he was trying to survive, he wanted what was best for the Wolf's Council.

Now it all made him feel ill.

He could hear the viles, gathering in the shadow left by the candle, whispering about he should've let Dutchess Freya kill him in Icegarden.

He couldn't help but agree.

Drew placed his hand on his shoulder, in a way that should be comforting. It always had been.

Now it made him choke and tremble.

His grip on the table became white knuckled and Drew pulled his hand back.

He found himself completely ungrounded without it.

If only he could make up his mind.

About his allegiances, about whether he wanted to live or die, about whether he wanted Drew's help or not. His life would be so much easier.

"Hector."

At first Drew's voice melted in with the shadow's taunts, indecipherable.

"Hector."

Quiet and ready to rip him apart, behind the wall of his own tumultuous thoughts.

"Hector, look at me."

He jolted upright, pushing himself away from the table but not letting go of the edge, and looked at Drew in the sunlight. As intact as the war had left him.

Distantly, Hector noted he'd started crying at some point.

It didn't seem important though, compared to how every breath was being strangled out of him.

"Hector-" Whatever he was going to say was lost when Hector grabbed him by the collar of his greencloak, hauling himself up.

The White Fist wrapped around Hector's comparatively fragile wrist.

"Drew," Hector choked out, finally making up his mind, "I need you to help me."

Drew nodded, talking before Hector was done, "Of course, Hecto-" Only to be interrupted again.

"You need to kill me, Drew." Out of the corner of his eye, Hector could see the shadows. Writhing and laughing. Always writhing and laughing.

Drew seemed appalled at the idea of it. Of course he was. He'd paled at killing Opal, Count Croke, he probably would have had a hard time killing Leopold, given the chance.

Drew wasn't a killer, even after everything. It wasn't smart to ask him to kill him.

"I won't do that, Hector." Drew said, the Whit Fist tightening around Hector's wrist. If he wasn't careful he might break it.

"You don't understand, I can't live like this, in a dark room afraid of the dark!" He wheezed, his lungs burning at the effort of pleading and keeping himself upright at the same time.

"There's nothing to be afraid of up here-"

Hector cut him off with a choked laugh. There was so much to be afraid of, all the time.

"You don't know anything about that." Hector coughed, his grip on Drew's collar the only thing really keeping him standing at the moment. That and the hold the White Fist had on him.

"What do you mean by that?" Drew's face turned from disgusted and worried to skeptical in an instant, shutting Hector right up.

What a way to gain someone's trust, telling them you still viles.

What a way to get killed, on the other hand. Telling your jailer you still see viles.

"Viles, Drew! I mean viles! The dead! I've seen them since I communed the first time and they're still here, so kill me, because it didn't work!" His demands would probably hold more power if he wasn't choking and practically relying on Drew to hold him up.

He was crying consciously now.

"By Brenn Drew," He continued, begging now, "It's horrible, they're everywhere and they don't ever let me rest. Please just let me die, this is torture. I know what I deserve but please just let me rest."

He'd collapsed in earnest now, coughing and wheezing while Drew did all the work of holding him up.

It didn't seem that hard for him.

Carefully, Drew pried Hector's fist from his collar and had him sit back down, human hand on his shoulder. Like he was keeping him there.

"I'm not killing you Hector. Gretchen was right that there's another way." It was obvious there'd be no convincing him. Hector would live and that'd be that.

He kept going anyway.

"This is cruel, Drew. You're supposed to kill murderers, not torture them." He'd stopped crying, and he could breathe again. The episode had left him barely able to whisper.

He was exhausted.

"It's not supposed to be torture." Drew protested, one hand still left on his shoulder.

"It is anyways."

"It'll get better." Drew squeezed his shoulder before letting go.

He pulled the chair out of the dim shadows, the viles scraping at him while they could, and sat in the weak sunlight next to Hector.

They stayed quiet for a measure of time, Drew letting Hector catch his breath until he could speak up again.

"Why do you object to killing me so much?" It was obvious to Hector that his moral compass hadn't changed at all, but he was so ready to behead him on the top of Bone Tower, what changed?

"You're my friend, Hector," Drew said it like it should've been obvious. In a way he almost believed. "Gretchen was right that it wasn't the only way. You can live a life."

"Live a life stuck in a tree full of demons?"

"It doesn't have to be like that. Now enough of this. You're not dying today and that's final." Drew pushed the chair back, standing up. "I need to go. I'll be back tonight."

That was new. He'd never been by at night. Though, he'd given him enough reason to keep a closer eye on him.

Hector could only nod while Drew went to the door, where he stopped.

"I'll have more candles brought by. In the meantime, you should eat."

With that, he left him alone in the room.

All according to the routine.

#is the ending a little rushed? maybe!#its 5 am and I wanna shower! so don't mention it!#are they a little ooc? possibly!#im tired bro!#anyways here's 4000 words of absolute fuckery #wereworld #wereworld hector #wereworld drew

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captainunderkrupp · 4 years

Text

ppl were talking abt branch being good with kids on this one discord i’m in and i remembered this unfinished fic that i had!!

(for some reason, they are out on a camping trip or smth. i wrote this before twt came out and just kind of went w what info i had from like the first two trailers lol)

Branch groaned. And kept groaning. It was neverending, like he was just lungs, sighing forever.

"What?" Poppy asked, finally getting tired of waiting for him to finish.

He cut himself off. "The ground's too wet. I can't start a fire."

"Oh, that's not too bad!" Poppy grinned. "We don't need the light, we'll be sleeping!"

Branch glared at her. "We need the heat! We'll freeze to death!"

"Oh..." Poppy felt suddenly lucky that she was totally pink; it was hard to see blush when you were monochrome.

"That's ok!" Satin and Chenille chorused.

"Yeah!" Biggie agreed.

Branch squinted, trying to figure out what they could be talking about. "Oh no," he muttered, not quite sure yet, but he was sure he wouldn't like it.

"We can cu~udle!" Guy Diamond sang, holding Tiny close. Tiny, of course, didn't give him a proper hug back, but enjoyed the contact.

Branch groaned, and went back to try and light the wet wood. When he had fallen into the creek earlier, even his backup wood, in case it did rain like this, had gotten wet.

He was stuck.

"Fine!" he shouted, throwing his flint down at the ground. He hesitated, and then picked it back up. "We'll cuddle. Can't be worse than..." he shuddered. "Hug time."

Everyone cheered, and started moving in.

"Not yet!" he shrieked, and everyone paused. "Just... give me a minute. Jeez."

He started pulling out... weapons. Or, not just weapons, but a lot of stuff. No one looking was really sure where they were coming from, but there were blades from his pockets, roots from his vest, strange contraptions from his hair. It took a moment, but he finally seemed to have removed a lot from his person.

"No wonder hug time is uncomfortable for him," Cooper muttered. Unfortunately, he had no volume control, so Branch heard him anyway.

Branch rolled his eyes, and then rolled out a tarp. "Here. So we're not just sleeping on wet ground."

Everyone complimented him on his forethought, getting comfortable on the tarp. Satin and Chenille were wrapped around Smidge, Cooper settled down on the outside of the pile, and Biggie was underneath Poppy and Guy Diamond, who made sure Tiny wasn't squished by the cuddling but was also cozy.

Branch glanced around, looking for a place he could tuck himself in at the edge. "So, uh... where should I...?"

Poppy looked up, and grinned. She looked conspiratorially at Smidge and Biggie.

"Oh no. That look, I know that, look, what are you-- AAH!" he screamed as Smidge launched her hair at him, lifting him easily and dumping him between Poppy and Guy. Biggie immediately threw an arm over all three of them, and Poppy intertwined her hair with Branch's.

Branch blushed. He tried to struggle, tried to get out, but there were too many people, and this was... really... cozy... actually...

He was asleep before Poppy could tease him about being comfortable.

"Whoa, he went out like a light!" Biggie whispered.

"Aw, he's snoring!" Satin cooed, and Chenille groaned at the idea of sleeping with someone who snores. Luckily it was soft.

"Wow, this is the fastest I've ever seen him go to sleep," Poppy noted.

"You've seen him sleep before?" Cooper asked, lifting his head up and laying it over Guy so he could see better. Guy carefully made sure Tiny wasn't pinned.

"Well, yeah, we've had sleepovers. Sometimes he had to stay at mine and Dad's place before he was old enough to build that bunker of his. And he, uh..." she blushed, grinning. "Invited me over a few nights ago."

A chorus of "aww!"s erupted.

Branch jolted, adjusted, and went right back to sleep. He never even opened his eyes.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't realize they'd been holding.

"Ok," Poppy whispered, "Let's just settle down, and we'll all have a nice night."

Everyone fell asleep pretty soon after that. Except for one troll, who smiled down at Branch's resting face, before settling down herself.

Branch jolted awake, barely holding back a scream. He gasped, attempting to stave off a panic attack... and not doing so well.

In the low light, he barely registered it was early morning. Mostly, he noticed that he was tangled up with almost everyone else. Quickly, trying to breathe without hyperventilating, he disentangled himself as best he could from the cuddle pile.

Eventually, Branch had managed to extract himself, without even disturbing anyone. He was pretty proud of that.

But for right now, he needed to breathe.

He took a quick gasp in, 1234, held it, 1234, let it out, 12345678, in, 1234, hold, 1234, out, 123 4 5 6 7 8, in, 1 2 3 4, hold, 1 2 3 4, out, 1 2 3 4 5... 6... 7... 8...

Eventually his breathing finally slowed, and he could close his eyes without seeing the vivid colors of his nightmare behind the lids. He fell onto a nearby rock with a shuddering breath. Should I go back to bed? No, I slept through the night, and it's early in the morning already... He sighed again.

"Branch?"

He nearly screamed again, jumping and flailing. He fell into a practiced pose, ears twitching for a threat.

His eyes fell on Tiny Diamond, blinking innocently from barely more than a few arm lengths away.

Branch paled. "Tiny!" He struggled to relax, not wanting to scare Guy's baby.

Tiny rubbed his eye under his glasses. "You woke me up," he complained.

Branch had to wince. He had tried to be careful... but he supposed kids were easier to disturb. "Sorry, Tiny. I didn't mean to." He shuffled, not sure what to do with himself.

Small, curious eyes stared at him, and Tiny's head tilted. "What woke you up?"

"Just a nightmare."

"What's a nightmare?"

Branch blinked, surprised. Oh, right. As much as younger trolls could learn just from listening from their eggs, there were definitely gaps in their education, depending on what they were exposed to.

He supposed no one in the Snack Pack enjoyed talking about nightmares, so why would Tiny know?

"It's... a very bad dream."

"Oh, yeah, ok," Tiny nodded, seemingly understanding. Branch paused, waiting for Tiny to ask more.

But the trolling didn't seem to have anymore questions about that. "Do you know when my Daddy's going to wake up?"

Branch glanced back over at the pile with Tiny. Guy seemed to be sleep singing, and Branch wondered if someone was going to join in-- yep. Poppy was starting to hum.

"Uh... not sure, actually." He looked up at the sky. The moon waved back, and he could see the sun slowly, slowly coming up. It was a slow dawn, then. "The sun won't be up for a while, and that's when they usually wake up."

Tiny sighed, in that overly honest yet unweary way only little kids can. "Okaaay," he drew out the word, and then started beatboxing under his breath. Branch could hear him muttering ideas, switching around rhymes and verses.

It was catchy, he had to admit. He started humming along, a bit.

Tiny looked delighted. He scrambled to sit on the rock Branch was occupying, and Branch tried to scoot to give the kid the flatter side of it.

They sat there a while, trading rhythms and verses quietly. He could hear some more sleep singing from a distance, just slightly out of sync with their own music.

Eventually, the sun had traded out with the moon in the sky. It was definitely daytime, even if it was a little early.

Branch had an idea. A terrible idea. He grinned. The perfect revenge.

"Hey, Tiny," he whispered, leaning in toward the trolling. The kid perked up, staring wide-eyed at Branch, attentive. "You want to help me wake up the Snack Pack?"

Tiny grinned; of course he did, the Snack Pack included his Daddy! He jumped up, all excited. "Yeah! What'cha wanna do? Cuz I know you've got an idea!"

Branch chuckled at Tiny's enthusiasm. "Yeah. Here..." he whispered into Tiny's ear, and Tiny grinned.

The whole Snack Pack was all very deeply asleep. A good cuddle pile will do that to your average troll. Especially on a cold night, surprisingly. Guy was just beginning to twitch, frowning in his sleep as he subconsciously searched for his son, who didn't seem to be...

He jolted up at the sudden noise of a beat being dropped, an expert beatboxing suddenly bursting into the clearing they'd decided to camp out in.

Directly after that, a loud crescendo of "OoooOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH..." went through the air and woke everyone else up.

"Tiny D, break it down!"

Suddenly, Tiny burst into all their lines of sight, rapping his heart out. He sung about the sunrise and missing his dad and how he was glad they were awake, and beatboxing accompanied him all the while.

By the end, everyone had calmed, and most were even clapping. Guy settled for jumping up and picking up his son in delight.

"That was amazing!" he squealed, letting the last word be sung, autotuned. Tiny laughed and leaned back into his dad's face, nearly headbutting him.

"Wait, who gave him that awesome beat?" Cooper wondered sleepily, still rubbing muck out of his eyes.

Tiny pointed, and slowly, everyone turned toward a rock in the clearing that no one had really noticed before. Branch smirked and waved at all of them.

Jaws dropped. "Whoa!" Poppy shrieked, and everyone clamored. "When did you learn to beatbox?!"

Branch flinched, trying not to get trampled this early in the morning, thank you. "Hey, back off," he snapped.

He quickly devolved, though. His lips twitched, and then it was all over. He was laughing, hard and long. Tiny had started laughing long before, and their voices echoed through the clearing.

"Ha ha ha... you... you... your faces!! Ha ha..." he finally petered out, just letting out small giggles. Tiny was still going.

Everyone was staring at Branch. Poppy somehow looked more pink than usual.

(A/N: I have an hc that Tiny is a little bit touch averse. Not much, he loves contact, but he doesn't like hugs or anything else constrictive. And he mostly hangs out with his dad rather than other people. possibly bc glitter trolls have more sensitive skin? i would be too if my skin/entire body could flake off that easily.)

#fluiditywrites #dreamworks trolls #trolls world tour #tiny diamond #branch #queen poppy #snack pack #tag later #hc tag

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yandere-aa-blog · 5 years

Note

IF YOU SAY SO,,, how abt nahuta or seb (or honestly anyone) with a s/o that they've been watching for a while and decide to gift a wedding ring as a present? but the catch is s/o has no idea who it was from and threw the ring away, only to be knocked out later and wake up with a ring sewed into their finger?

HI NONNIE! just wanted to say that i absolutely adored your request so much that i got a little carried away... truly, i hope you stick around so i can write for you more often!

i decided to write for sebastian because i'm biased he seemed to fit in well with this scenario! also, quick warning that there is a bit more blood content in this ask than my other ones. be safe!

-mod lumi

sebastian had had his eye on you for a fair amount of time. it was rather annoying for his coworkers, his constant ramblings about you never ceasing to annoy everyone who listened. he talked about you with such admiration, yet he refused to approach you.

he said that it was only a matter of time and that he'd do it eventually, but everyone had seen it already - the way that he'd turn into a puddle of blushes and stutters the minute he came in contact with you. almost as if he was melting, sebastian's speech became almost unintelligible. this meant that you'd never had the chance to get to know him, thus, you had never bothered to talk to him yourself.

once sebastian had finally mustered up the courage to approach you, he began his plan of action. he thought that a gift would be perfect. a wedding ring.

one would believe that it was very odd to gift someone you had barely talked to a wedding ring, but the thought hadn't ran through sebastian's mind. you were nice, after all - there was no way you'd reject such a generous gift!

leaving it at your desk before you arrived for your morning work, he felt excitement bubbling in his stomach. euphoria ran through his body, giving him goosebumps as a giddy smile made its way to his lips. eyes darkened, he appeared as if a lustful aura was eminating around him.

you couldn't blame him, though! sebastian was so excited - ecstatic, for this moment. you'd get married, and buy a house together... start a family, take care of you - he was prepared to leap bounds and cross oceans to make his dream happen. so as the door to the office opened, the rusty bell atop its frame rung through his ears - bouncing around his skull and allowing itself to drill into his mind.

he ran away from the room, tucking himself into a comfortable place so he could watch your own obvious acceptance of his wonderful gift. sebastian couldn't wait to see that smile stretch across your face, your eyes glistening as the sun hit your gorgeous locks and...

a clicking sound interrupted his thoughts. you had opened the box, and peering into it had caused a skeptical demeanour to encircle your countenance. you were sure that someone had accidentally left it on your desk, as you knew nobody who would gift you a wedding ring.

so, your heels clicking as you walked straight past the corner he had sat himself in, you disregarded sebastian completely as you carefully tucked the container into the lost property box sitting in the middle of a cupboard at the wall. picking up the papers from your desk, you exited the room, failing to notice the crestfallen face of a certain male as you stepped into the elevator.

shock had replaced his previous delirium, his giddiness leaving his system at a shockingly fast pace. rising from his position slowly, he approached the box atop the cupboard and pulled the ring container out carefully. it was definitely the ring he gave you.

rage coursed through him - he saw red, his breaths becoming ever shallow as thoughts raced through his mind. why didn't you accept his gift? was it not good enough for you? was there someone else who you'd already been betrothed to?

an agonisingly intense wave of jealousy and anger washed through him, and like poison, it seeped through the corners of his mind, bleeding through his entire body as he clenched the box in his hand. if you wouldn't accept it willingly, you'd have to accept it on other terms.

eyes fluttering open, your head spun as pain coursed through your right arm. groaning, you pulled against the restraints tightening your hands to a bedpost. realization shocked your mind, bolting upward as you yelped at the force of the handcuffs dragging you back against the bed.

looking around frantically in a panic, you whimpered at the strong stinging erupting in your arm - noticing the bandages wrapped around them, you gulped, and allowed it some rest by ceasing the pressure you had on it by yanking on the handcuffs.

before you could reestablish your bearings, a creak sounded through the room, the door opening slowly as a cocoa-haired male peered through. his eyes glazed over frighteningly as he smiled.

"ms s/o, you're awake..!" he steps into the room with that smile still plastered across his face, the bed sinking as he sat beside you. you recognised him as sebastian, a coworker of yours. you hadn't conversed with him much, but... perhaps you should've. maybe you wouldn't of ended up here, after all.

sebastian's hand caresses your face, no delicacy prominent as he leans forward and captures your lips in his own. the kiss is desperate, yearning for reciprocated affection - its suffocating as you pull back in need of air. worries were slowly arising in your mind - was this guy crazy?

"aw, you're not in the mood for that? that's fine - we can wait until the wedding. " sebastian sounds almost too confident as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew about this whole ordeal.

"w-wedding..!? what are you talking about-?" it clicks in your head. you remember receiving a wedding ring at your office. that was him? you didn't take it, though... what was going on?

"that... that was you? you gave..." despite you never finishing your sentence, sebastian's smile contoured into that of a sanguine smirk as he rose up, the bed groaning and creaking as the mattress sunk further downward. he had straddled your waist, a deluded smile playing on his lips as he carefully unhooked your arm from the bedpost and unraveled the bandages decorating your frame.

the further he unraveled, the newer the blood staining its ivory colour appeared. as he finished, the bandage had stuck to your blood-coated arm - peeling it off, he admired his handiwork adoringly.

there it was. the ring - which you now realised, your boss, mr edgeworth, had likely helped him buy - it looked expensive, after all, was stitched to your finger - black strings carefully weaved through your skin and around the finger, ensuring that there was no chance of removing it.

your stomach turned - the sight of stitches running through your skin was enough, but the grin on sebastian's face rivalled that of the gory sight before you. he hummed happily, fingers dancing up your arms as a satisfied sigh left his lips.

"i was right. that ring really suits you, ms s/o... though, i don't think you'll be keeping that name for long, right?"

tears threatened to fall from your eyes as he smiled to himself, his fingertips trailing up your arms as he riddled the tense atmosphere with more praise.

"woah, you look so pretty... justine is really good at this kind of stuff... she taught me all about it. but i did it all myself. even the letters, ms s/o!"

the letters? hesitantly, you craned your next back to your arm, where you noticed even more of the thin, crimson substance coating your skin. underneath the bright red lathered onto your arms, you saw careful yet sloppy letters sewn into your arm, the letters beginning at the top and descending all the way down to your bloodied wrist... it read;

'SEBASTIAN'

bursting into tears, suddenly the pain in your arm increased by tenfold - knowing that you had been marked painfully with the use of a sewing needle distressed you. tears cascaded down your cheeks, sobs racking through your form as you kicked - screamed for someone to help you. you knew little about what was to come next, but you knew that clearly, sebastian had no limits as to what he could inflict upon you.

"hey, don't cry! it really suits you, after all... is it silly that i want to show you off to everyone? so they know that you're all mine..." his voice was still calm despite your cries of desperation. burrowing his head into the crook of your neck, he let out a happy sigh as he relished in your warmth.

"don't worry, ms s/o... we can be together forever now."

#ace attorney #headcanons #requests: open #x reader #xreader #yandere ace attorney #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #imagines #ace attorney imagines #ace attorney headcanons #sebastian debeste #yandere sebastian debeste #sebastian debeste x reader #ace attorney x reader

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themockingcrows · 5 years

Text

Whisper Just For Me Ch. 15: Reunion

This chapter is SFW! This chapter is also available mirrored on my AO3.

Just having someone back in your presence doesn't always mean they're really there, especially when that someone is a ghost. How much of Dave is with you, and how much of him was affected by your time apart? Is it really a reunion when only one person is aware of the reuniting?

Your dreams were empty. You were holding out hope that Dave would visit you, would talk with you, would get rid of the lingering worry that clung to your mind like a sticky veil of spiderwebs. Instead you got repeats of different scenarios you've had in the past, strange distortions of shadow and light, a strange sequence of trying to buy a set of pants from a food stall only to find they didn't have your size, and your father trying to pass off one of his finest hats to you after it had been coated in peanut butter, blending the symbolic niceties of adulthood and achievement with a death threat. If you believed in omens it probably would have meant a lot. Good thing you don't believe in it without a gut feeling and the only feelings it gave you were confusion and a stomach ache.

You woke with your hand instinctively curled around the pendant as if trying to keep it warm, despite the material being plenty warm in your hand already, a reminder of who dwelled within it. Good, he was making some reactions now aside from just a loose sensation of presence.

“...Dave?” you said quietly, a sleepy murmur. “Dave, can you hear me in there?”

Silence.

“...Dave, I'm so sorry for what happened. If I was even remotely aware anything like that was going to happen I'd have done everything different somehow. I'm just glad we got there in time.”

More silence, but the warmth in your hand didn't diminish. Dave was definitely still in there. Maybe he was sleeping in too.

Your phone let out a few familiar tones to signal you had messages coming in, rapid fire texts that had you wondering just how many people were texting you at once till you could get at it and turn the screen on with a press of the button along the side. ...Huh. Okay, five texts in a row from a number you were sleepy enough to not recognize as Rose's for a moment.. No, six, your phone chimed again in your palm to try making you scroll down. Okay, maybe you wouldn't have recognized it was from Rose's number right away anyway, this was definitely not her normal way of texting.

TT: hey when you get this cn u like txt me back asap

TT: *can

TT: its roxy rose said i should hit u up again to like

TT: check in and shit about what happened

TT: srry for treating u like u two were gonna rob me blind but 2 be fair u were acting creepy

TT: is that ghost thing okay btw or is that not a gr8 thing to ask

Another few chimes as you were trying to formulate how to even reply, which left you marveling at the speed with which she could text. Was he okay? He still wasn't talking or glowing or.. much of anything beyond keeping the pendant warm. He wouldn't do that if he was sick right? ...Wait, do ghosts even get sick? What was the right word for this. Exhaustion? Strained? It couldn't last forever, he'd be back to normal soon surely.

TT: srry not ghost thing i guess i mean dave

TT: rose filled me in a bit but it still dsnt make much sense

TT: guess it makes more sense than me goin crzy tho

TT: *crazy lol

Yeah, no shit. Even this deep in everything there were times you worried you were just actually crazy and none of this unbelievable mess was real at all. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you pushed yourself to sit upright in bed, put on your glasses, and started to slowly type out a reply with your pointer finger.

EB: hey, yeah, i'm here. sorry, i just woke up.

TT: o shit my bad lol

EB: no, it's no problem. thanks for getting in contact though. and sorry for uh.

EB: you know.

EB: barging into your apartment and alerting you to the whole concept of ghosts i guess?

TT: like i said dont worry abt it

TT: im just glad everythins back to normal in here

TT: I hadnt realized just how weird the place felt till now

TT: muties finally able to chillax again

EB: i'm still kind of amazed you believed us at all, but if you'd been feeling things for a while then i guess that would all just kind of line up, huh.

TT: just another day in the bullshit mines

TT: rose talks about stuff like this a lot but i kinda never rlly believed her

TT: hindsight 2020 foot does not taste gr8

You grinned at your phone and let the screen go dim once more before stuffing it into the pocket of some sweatpants you then wrangled on. Might as well not delay the inevitable and just get up. It took a few more tries than usual to get up, fatigue weighing heavy in your bones, but get up you eventually did to shuffle to the kitchen. A banana wound up in your other pocket, keeping your hands free for motoring around to thump down on the sofa. Jade perked up soon as you went down, shuffling her legs to get your weight off her feet and poking a head full of sleep wild hair out from underneath the throw.

“...S'it morning..?”

“Yeah. Or later, I didn't look at the time,” you admit, pulling your phone out of your pocket to peek as the banana was yanked out in a dual wielding motion. You bit the standing end of the banana and tipped it sideways till the peel cracked, making it easier to open one handed. Wisely, you waited till you had a bit mouth full of fruit to try talking more. “Closer to noon it look like. Oh, and Roxy wrote.”

“How'd she get your number?” Jade asked. She crawled to the floor to get at her purse, rummaging around for a brush to start taming the mass down enough to apply some strategically placed hair ties.

“Oh, no, she was writing from Rose's phone. I guess they met up today in one way or another? She said everything feels better at her place so.. I guess that at least shows Dave didn't dislodge somehow or anything.”

“Has he.. y'know. Said anything?”

You frowned and took another bite of banana, then another till it was gone, delaying as if the extra few seconds stalled would somehow give Dave enough incentive to interact again. No such luck.

“No. Nothing.. Oh! But the pendant's warm! He's definitely in there, just..”

Just what. Just tired? Just ghost broken? Did ghosts get sick? You sank down further in the sofa and let your leg slide further along the floor with a heavy sigh. This sucked. This really, really sucked.

“...I wish I knew enough about what was happening to fix it.”

“We could always ask Rose if you want. She seems to have good ideas on this stuff, maybe she'd understand what was happening,” said Jade, opening up a compact mirror to check and see if the low segmented pigtails were a good look that day. Verdict was a resounding yes from the way she snapped it shut with a happy grin and dropped the supplies back into the bag. “Or we can just wait and see what he does next on his own.”

“You make me sound like a helicopter parent when you put things like that, Jade.”

“Helicopter boyfriend.”

“Helicopter whatever! Same thing!”

“I mean-”

“You know that's not what I meant,” you frowned. “I just want to do what's best by him. I'm kind of responsible for him now, and I already fucked that up in a big way. Getting him back's like a second chance, but I can't do the second chance right from the very beginning if something's wrong.”

“Then call Rose,” shrugged Jade as she got up from the floor and sauntered off to pilfer breakfast from your fridge.

“Yeah but what if that just makes it worse somehow, what if we're supposed to wait for something to happen!”

“John either call her, let me call her, or shut up and relax! Holy shit, it's not the world ending, it's either getting more potential information from a verified source of accurate information, or making our own estimations based on study and other information sources. It's as if you've never heard of a reasonable hypothesis before,” she grumbled, then disappeared around the corner.

You frowned the way she went.

“You could've at least taken my banana peel with you!”

“Fuck your banana peel, you've got a leg and two arms that aren't broken!”

You immediately stuck your tongue out in her direction, already knowing she couldn't see it, but hoping she could feel your rankle even through the wall. Heaving another sigh, reveling in the dramatic for a moment, you turn your attention to your phone once more. It hadn't pinged again to signal an incoming flurry from Roxy, so you assumed it'd be safe to call Rose now. Jade was right. She'd probably know what to do.

The phone rang several times before you heard the familiar voice on the other line and smiled.

“Hello?”

“Rose?”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah. So. ..Uh.” Come on, spit it out, what if this was time sensitive or something? “Dave's home now... I think. But he's not talking or anything. No dream visits, no lights, no interacting with anything. The most he's done is warm the pendant up,” you start to explain. “I'm worried he's. I don't know. Sick? Exhausted? What happens now, how can I help fix him? I finally got him home but I can't even talk to him.”

Everything had started as a trickle before finishing in a rush of stress balled up into English and launched out of your mouth like cannon fire. You held your breath, listening closely for a response.

“Well.”

….Well that wasn't what you were hoping for. It takes effort to remain quiet and wait instead of pointing that out and being sarcastic. Stress sarcasm didn't tend to do the best things.

“I think he likely just needs rest. Roxy already caught me up to everything that happened prior to and just after him leaving. It's possible he just expended way too much energy while apart from you and needs to rest now. Perhaps even sap energy from his surroundings.”

You frowned and furrowed your brow in thought. It had felt harder to get out of bed today, but was that Dave already sapping from you, or was it just the reality of getting around on crutches for too long at a stretch?

“Is there anything I can do to help though? I mean. I guess if he's going to be doing that draining thing while this tired, is there anything I can do to make it easier for him to do it?”

You heard Rose sigh and the creak of whatever seat she was in.

“Hm. Well, not exactly anything you can DO. Not strictly speaking at least. You can make yourself more open to him, perhaps. Leave yourself like an open door, let him get at you easier. Keep him in range obviously. Make sure you eat and sleep often enough, perhaps rest up and take things a little easier. Be the reserve battery.”

You wet your lips and nodded, though obviously Rose couldn't see you. You hoped she'd get the feeling you nodded anyway.

“Is there any way I'll be able to tell when he's back to normal?”

“When he's back to scattering papers and bothering you, most likely,” Rose said, the soft sound of a chuckle flavoring her words. “But I think he'll make himself known when he's able to. The way you've talked about him makes it seem like he's probably just as excited to talk to you as you are to talk to him.”

It was a comforting though. Another few nods you hoped Rose was able to detect happened as you tried to collect the rest of your thoughts.

“When should I try telling him about the things Jade and I learned? About.. y'know, about his everything. His history and stuff.”

Rose was quiet for a moment. You could almost picture her biting her lip, pale teeth on black lipstick that somehow never seemed to smudge or get spotty.

“I'd recommend keeping your mouth shut about much of that until he's for certain stronger. It's hard to gauge his specific reaction, but the last thing you'd want to have happen is for the information to make him decide to go and then be unable to leave due to not having enough power.”

“So.. I just need to be a good battery and wait for him, and then get to the nitty gritty when he's all recovered and back to obnoxiously normal.”

“That's the gist of it, yes. Keep him close and in contact. Think of it as spoon feeding someone overtaken by illness while they recover.”

“I'm already recovering, I think I can handle a bit more of the resting. Hah, might make Jade happy to finally get off my feet and just take it easy for a while longer.”

She chuckled. “No doubt. I'd be interested to hear about your progress as things continue, actually. Will you be tracking things as you were before? That data is extremely useful to have on hand, it gives good insight on whether things that feel like they should work are actually beneficial. Who knows who might else wind up in a similar situation someday with a spirit and need to tend it before it can properly move on?”

“You make it sound like opening a ghost infirmary or rehabilitation place is an option, Rose.”

Another soft sound from the other end of the phone and far too long of a pause spanned silence till you laughed, awkward. “Rose. I was kidding.”

“Yes. Kidding. Still an intriguing idea. I wonder if spiritual rehabilitation could work in the case of negative spirits as we-”

“Rose, I'm gonna have to let you go for now,” you interrupted. “I'm sorry. I'll call back later on with updates, okay?”

“Have Jade call me later, if you could?”

“About Dave?”

“No, to make dinner plans. I think her phone may be drained, it just goes straight to voice mail.”

That wasn't like her. Maybe she turned it off instead of it dying. Either way, you nod and make a sound of confirmation just in case Rose wasn't psychic enough to understand just how earnestly you'd been nodding this entire time you'd been conversing.

“Sure thing. Thanks again, Rose. And uh.. Rose?”

“Yes?”

“...Could you tell Roxy to send me a bill for what all she'd need to get her laptop running again? I feel like it'd probably be better if I paid or helped pay for a good chunk of that. Even if it was an accident, just. ..Yeah.”

It was kind of the least you could do, considering someone innocent got caught in some pretty serious crossfire. Things could have easily given way to a fire, taken out the entire apartment building or gotten others killed.

“I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Between that and her phone, I think her run of bad luck took a bit more out of her than she'd be willing to admit. I'll just pass her your email address and she'll forward something.” A soft chuckle. “If she doesn't, then I'll figure it out and send the information your way instead.”

“Perfect. Thank you again, Rose.”

You hung up as Jade was coming back in with a bowl of cereal loaded to the brim, sipping milk from the edge where it precariously sat just waiting to spill all over the floor. She cast a green eyed glance your way to be sure she wouldn't squash anything before sitting down beside you on the sofa to crunch away. Apparently the back and forth sassing hadn't left any lingering bad tastes in her mouth towards you, at least judging by how close and comfortable she sat.

There was no mystery involved if Jade Harley was angry with you. You were very, very well aware.

“Rose said to treat myself like a good little battery and just wait on him to make the most of it. Give her updates.. and she wants you to call for dinner plans? Your phone's apparently off.”

Jade swallowed sideways and nearly choked on her cereal.

“What? Fuck. I forgot I did that. Right, don't worry about it, I'll call her soon as I finish this. ...But that's it, huh?”

“Apparently so. Take it easy, eat and sleep plenty, keep him close. I wonder if talking to him helps even if he can't respond yet. Would he be able to hear?”

“If he's awake he'll hear. Maybe he's just not strong enough to respond and he's actually wide awake worrying? Talking is a good idea.”

“Great, more excuses to talk to myself in public, exactly what I want.”

“Truly, you lead a charmed life,” she said with a grandiose gesture of her spoon before popping more cereal into her face. The mood seemed reset now that your obligations were complete. You had solved the mystery of how Dave died, of his origins. You'd gotten Dave back, though you weren't quite able to celebrate freely yet. You were going to repair damage done and set some debts right before they could become an issue. You had ideas on how to help fix things in a lot of ways.

All you needed was patience.

...Fuck does patience suck sometimes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You'd spent nearly two weeks being the best battery you were able to be. You ate plenty of decent food, took naps whenever you could, and otherwise gave yourself as much physical rest as you were able to on the sofa when not busy. The entire time you were also murmuring to yourself, talking softly towards the pendant you couldn't help but keep touching, narrating your life and your thoughts to a sleeping spirit that you were guarding. The stone remained comfortingly warm as a hand you could hold in your time alone, and a few times you swore you could feel a soft pulse of a presence coming from it. There had been no speaking however. No dreams being visited.

The paranoid part of your brain was worried enough that it started to offer up all kinds of awful scenarios that were possibly coming true, despite having clear evidence to the contrary that anything was going wrong. Dave was quiet, but he was there. You knew he was there. ...You just wished he'd react more than a pulse or warmth.

Dave granted your wish one night. While you worked on your laptop in bed, fucking around on a forum in one window, talking with friends in another, and doing a little research into some new devices for spirit communication that were making the rounds in the online sources, you failed to notice the slender trail of red light leaving the pendant. You also failed to notice the red ball form, only realizing something was up when the corner of your eye caught the red haze starting to take a different shape.

“Wh-. Dave?!”

Fumbling with your laptop, you sat bolt upright in bed and glanced down to the pendant before back towards the apparition that was struggling to form something specific. Humanoid was a good start, but it seemed like he was struggling a bit to settle on a specific shape for very long, unable to make up his mind.

“It's okay, you can stay an orb if you want! There's no rush!” you hurry to say, though he doesn't appear to acknowledge you. The red light strains and struggles, forming Dave's face before flickering and distorting grotesquely enough that you're taken aback. He keeps coming back to his own face, but between flashes of it are things you don't recognize. Monstrous half formed things, faces that belong to people you've never met, and even several times faces you recognized. You could have sworn you saw Jade in there a few times, and Roxy. You saw your own face once or twice before it ripped itself apart to bone and reformed as malleable as clay in the vapor.

“...Dave?” you whisper. It's the face of Dave's brother that glances at you sharp as broken glass, mouth set in a thin line as his outer edges twitched and spasmed, only to once more break apart at the seams. He looked like he was melting, and it took effort not to panic. Something was definitely wrong, it was obvious to see, but WHAT was wrong. What specifically was wrong? What could even be done about it? You wet your lips and tried to think clearly as you could.

Be open. Be a good battery. Dave had gone through a lot of strain before coming home, maybe this reforming problem was linked to that? It had to take a lot of power to form a specific shape as opposed to just forming out of habit. You were trying to think of any reasonable explanation you could, despite the taste of bile rising in the back of your throat.

“Dave,” you try again, keeping his attention this time. Maybe just act like business as usual? “I missed you so much. I'm sorry this happened, but.. you're here now! You're home! And I'm recovering, and everything can go back to normal now.”

A frown lit on Dave's ever changing face, but he seemed to be starting to decide on the features you were by now familiar with. His eyes were the things that stayed in place the most, barely there hints of lashes pale on a fairly normal shaped face. At least it wasn't splitting apart at the seams anymore.. His mouth still looked too big, too sharp, too inhuman, but it was progress. You gestured with your arms wide as if expecting a hug at any time to come your way, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, you'd get it to happen if you wished enough.

“I know things haven't been easy. And.. I understand if you're mad. Or scared. Or-”

Something was wrong. Words died on your lips as, finally, Dave's features went into the right order and appeared to hold steady yet the look in his eyes didn't change in the slightest. He looked at you as if looking through you, taking in the room as a whole as if he'd never seen it before in his life. If he was strong enough to form, why wasn't he talking to you at all? Or reaching for you?

“...Dave,” you try again, moving so your legs were over the edge of your mattress and one hand was reaching for your crutches. “Dave. Say something. Anything. Or.. uh. Knock something over. I'm listening close as I can for you, I promise, but I'm not hearing anything. Am I just not trying hard enough or are you just not talking for some reason?”

The spirit was glancing at his hands now, wispy trails of paleness caught in reddish mist that faded in and out of view between fully formed mass and smoke. Even with a fully open link, it still took a lot of energy to do that. You weren't surprised to hear the fan of your laptop suddenly kick into high gear behind you, cooling the inner workings down as it drew more power than usual from the wall. He didn't seem interested in talking, or in doing much at all. Compared to the spirit you were used to, how Dave was acting now just gave you the creeps. He hovered gently off the ground, face grim and expressionless as a doomed man, resolute and lost. A thousand yard stare at nothing at all.

This was Dave, but it was the least Dave-like Dave you thought you'd ever seen. And considering how much you'd learned about him so recently and all the time you'd spent together so far, you considered yourself a pretty damn good gauge of Dave-ness. An unaccounted for lack of Dave-ness with no guidance on what had caused it. Could you soft reset ghosts? Turn it off and on again till the appearance stuck right.

No, wait, that was a stupid idea. Focus, John. You shook your head hard to clear the thought from your head to focus on the other thoughts instead, the ones that felt instinctively like they might help. After all, you'd shared a body before, two minds in one form. You'd had his voice in your head, in your ear, in your heart. Maybe he just needed that..? Needed a touch, a push, a rekindling to remember properly after the traumatic time apart like someone might take their shoes off and flop on a sofa to make a place feel like home again after a return from a too long vacation. You picked up a single crutch and forced yourself upright to your feet, leaning your weight to keep balanced before taking a lumbering step forward, one hand out beseechingly.

“Dave. Come here for a second.”

He stared at you, through you again, then went back to looking at his hands as if they were foreign objects. Maybe they were. The thought chilled your blood, but you lumbered forward another careful step, nearly touching him. It would be okay. It'd be fine. You could do this.

Dave flinched when your hand went through him as if he'd not realized just how close you were. ...Wait, had he felt that? The contact had been chilly, vaguely electric, but welcome. Familiar. Just needed to keep contact up for it to be warm, right?

“Come on.. Here. Remember when we were at the aquarium?” you asked, pausing to grin at him. “Would yoooou... want to try that again? No cars this time. It was kind of fun in hindsight. Scary but interesting to back seat in my own body?”

Were you offering casual possession to an Not-Very-Dave-Like Dave? Yes. Yes you were. It felt important, the closest thing to a hug you could manage when all you craved was contact with someone who couldn't do the literal contact thing very well. Dave stared vacantly, but didn't seem like he was going to dart away anywhere, or at least attempt to given the limitations of the place he was still tethered to. A thought of taming timid woodland creatures crossed your mind as you held your hand out in offer, patient, quiet, smiling.

“Come on. Come closer. I've really missed you, I can see you, you can see me. I can't hear you and I'm dying for a chat.”

More staring. ...Okay, you weren't a very patient man in hindsight, but the attempt was still happening.

“Dave. Come here,” you said again.

More staring.

Well. Now or never. Acting quickly, you moved your crutch forward and lunged for the spirit in his red haze as if you were trying to bear hug him, forcing yourself to think as openly as you could. Welcoming as an open door, trying to recreate anything you could from the aquarium as you went right through him and lurched uncoordinatedly straight into your dresser drawers. Another hard wobble as you rebounded too hard in a panic of over-correcting and started to go backwards, passing through Dave a second time directly before starting to head for the floor.

Though you hadn't been able to see it, the first pass through Dave's body had had a definite effect, a small spark of reaction, memory, something familiar. He'd watched your graceless fumble as well as your rebound without really reacting much beyond observation, too busy trying to organize his own slowly waking thoughts to go further.

...Was he home? Where was this? He'd been somewhere else, right? This felt different, it looked different, there was no pink everywhere, no cat.. It felt familiar. Looked familiar. So did the person falling.

Falling?

Fuck, falling.

You were wide eyed and nearly to the floor when the hand extended your direction, and without a second thought you reached up to grab it. Foolish really, trying to grab the hand of a ghost. There was nothing there to really grab, nothing to hold on to or to use to stop the inevitable crash to the ground, but what could you say? When falling the urge to grab a hand was instinctive. Your hand felt like it was numb with cold before it suddenly surged hot, heat racing up your arm and down your spine, making your head swim. You were aware you were changing position and of the world changing place around you, but kept bracing for the impact on the back of your head.

It never came.

You felt pressure on your elbows, forearms, and good knee instead. The brunt of the impact was taken in your healthy limbs, injured leg awkwardly elevated and hovering an inch or two above the ground before slowly lowering down.

...Wow. That was pretty cool! You'd never even thought of turning like that, it was kind of like a stunt man's moves or something out of a movie. Most importantly, however, you hadn't bashed the back of your head in like a total idiot who'd tried to hug a ghost! Just needed to get up then.

…

Just. Needed to get up.

…

Preferably with the moving and the getting up actions actually happening instead of just waiting. You tried again, but failed to move out of the weight bearing stance that had successfully broken your fall. Nothing felt heavy or really out of place. More like it felt like your joints were a glimpse of what life was like as the Tin Man after being left out in the rain too long, immobilized. You could feel your glasses starting to slide off your nose towards the ground but couldn't catch and readjust them. They slowly slipped bit by bit off your face before thumping to the ground, leaving your vision blurry and soft.

...John?

“Dave?”

Well, at least talking was happening. You were grateful your mouth could move, but the talking wasn't very soothing in the face of suddenly being an immobilized statue on the floor.

“Dave, did. ..Wait, Dave, you're talking now! Where are you at, I can hear you really clearly now!” you realized, voice raising in pitch a bit as the excitement built. Shit, it'd been way too long since you last heard his voice, you hadn't really realized how great it would be to hear him again.

JOHN

“Yes, I can hear you! Dave, come down where I can see you, I can't move, I can't see shit at all.”

...Wait.

“...Dave are you why I can't move. Where are you at. I can't see shit,” you repeated, “let me see where you are.”

John John John John John John John

“Dave, I'm happy to hear you too but like. Seriously, did you do this?” Had to be. In hindsight there was no way you'd be able to do a cool mid-movement flip like that to avoid damaging yourself in a fall. You were not nearly that coordinated. You felt warmth blossom in your chest and down your spine again, down either leg. You could wiggle your toes for a moment before the statue effect was in place once more.

JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN HOME JOHN HOME SAFE JOHN HOME

“Dave. Dave. Let me stand up! I'm gonna get a cramp! Do whatever you were doing a second ago, I could kinda move for a moment there! You can talk and yell at me all you want but just. Can we go to the bed again? I don't want my leg to hurt.”

The excited thrumming focused in your chest like a steady bouncing, or like one of those wacky weasel toys that wiggled the ferret on the motorized ball in random directions. You could still hear his voice as if it were getting further and further away before realizing the warmth was focusing centrally before trying to expand outward to each limb at the same time. This was very different from the experience at the aquarium but.. it wasn't bad by any stretch of the imagination. It was kind of comforting actually, especially once you started to realize where things were and could hone in on where Dave was. It had forced you to stop acting automatically and to instead focus inwards at an acute angle that got rid of the borders around your body and the world around you.

Once again, your body housed two hearts for even a brief moment and you couldn't quite explain just how complete it actually made you feel compared to normal. Not too full but comfortable. Safer. ...Were you missing something, to feel this way? Or was it just a sign of you having a better capacity to work with others?

Or was it just Dave?

The warmth ran all the way to your fingertips, coursing through your veins and muscles till you could feel your arms wobble and then go limp. You face planted solidly against your glasses, mashing your nose into the frames hard enough that for a second you were scared you'd break them, pushing back up onto your hands with a sharp gasp. Okay. There was the movement again, but the warmth wasn't dissipating. You could still feel it in your chest, bouncing from side to side and up and down, spinning in circles as your own name was chanted in your ears excitedly.

JOHN John John JOHN home safe homehomehomesafejohn JOHN SAFE HOME JOHN JOHN JOHNJOHNJOHN!

You pushed upright to sit flat on your ass and picked up your glasses, taking a moment to rub them clean with the bottom edge of your shirt before putting them back into place. The room returned to crisp, clear outlines and familiar shapes. The pendant was all but burning at your neck, and you realized your lips were curled into a smile that was broad enough it made your cheeks hurt. You were.. happy. Absolutely happy. Whatever had happened between you and Dave, it had fixed the problem before it truly could get started and restored the world to its rightful state of reunion. This was what you'd missed last night when your worry hung in your mind as tangible as spoiled milk.

“I missed you, Dave,” you whispered, and hugged yourself as tightly as you could. The warmth stopped bouncing around to hold perfectly still for a moment before surging into both of your arms. You realized you couldn't move them again, both hands locked firmly to your upper arms before they began to make rubbing motions, not quite numb but not quite usable. You may have hugged yourself, but you didn't exactly expect 'yourself' to hug you back.

“Could you feel that too, Dave? Is that why you're doing this?”

This was unexplored territory, and held plenty of implications you were sure, but in the moment you didn't give a fuck. That fulfilled sensation, the warmth, the foreign feeling of your own hands on your arms that steadily trailed up towards your throat and then your own face as if they were the hands of another? All of it was new and all of it was just memories for the making and taking. You were getting to hug Dave in a flesh and blood way, even if it were only for the moment, and nothing could ever take that away from you. Nobody could claim it was impossible.

... John..

Were you. ..Were you crying? You weren't crying, were you? You were. You could feel hot trails on your face that cooled quickly, and the warmth in your chest was soon joined by a clenching that released in a huffed sob. It was relief, you told yourself. The full relief of everything being okay and returning to normal, of nothing being wrong finally, of questions being answered and of that all but overwhelming sensation of not being alone anymore in your own skin.

Your right hand lifted to rub your nose as you snorted in an ungainly way to clear your nose. Your left hand, outside of your control, carefully rubbed some of the water from your eyes with its fingertips.

...Don't cry...

“Don't tell me what to do,” you snuffed. “I'll cry if I feel like it, do you have any idea how scared I was that you were gone forever? And then I get you back and you-! And. And you acted like you weren't really there even when you were in front of me and now everything's just. Everything's okay! Everything's okay now!”

...Still crying...

“Shut up and let me have this,” you mumbled. Though the one hand stayed near your face, the arm you were able to move went to hug tight around your rib cage again, trying to hold everything together in case it somehow fell apart or flew away to the breeze. “Let me have this.. Let me have you,” you murmured.

The tension in your chest lifted and the warmth returned to your limbs, trying to spread to all four at once before it ricocheted around your rib cage again and went straight to your head. You didn't mind the dizziness or the slight ring in your ears, so long as you got to hug it out just a little bit longer.

“Stay with me like this. Even just a while longer, Dave. ..Please.”

The warmth stayed, solid and still as stone. You had a feeling it wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon and were grateful. You'd tell the good news to everyone else soon enough. For the time being, though, this happiness was all yours.

#homestuck #johndave #john egbert #dave strider #my fic

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taexual · 7 years

Text

Confession / Yugyeom x Reader

PART ONE OF THIS REQUEST IS HERE

Yugyeom finds out you talk in your sleep but he feels too awkward to discuss it. Then, something happens that makes him realize that by pushing this away, he might never find out if what you said was true.

Pairing: Mafia AU!Yugyeom x Reader

Warnings: violence, some strong language

Words: 3.5k

guess who’s back i apologize immensely for taking so long to upload this! i hope you enjoy, though!

Requests by anon: hey! if it isn’t too much but is there anyway you can write a part 2 for AU mafia yugyeom? if you can’t that’s totally cool:-) love your blog btw

@ oppatuan : Hi ^^ i really liked your mafia reaction and i noticed some have more parts... and i was thinking could you do this to the other members??? (oh im talking abt got7) im actually curios abt it. ^^ sorry to bother. Bujt if you want one to do it you can do it of yugyeom or jinyoung.

Ever since that night when you finally gathered enough courage to go to Yugyeom’s room and confront him about your lack of communication despite being married, the two of you were constantly together. You just learned that there was so much the two of you had in common, it was impossible to postpone all the conversations you could have had and all the things you could have done. You wanted to do it all now.

“I know you two are married,” his brother said one morning as he saw you both climb down the stairs. “But, my God, have you ever spent any time separately at all?”

You and Yugyeom looked at each other and silently decided to ignore what his brother just said.

“Oh, teaming up against me now, are you?” his brother questioned, smiling a little. “Alright. I won’t bother you. Though, it would be nice to see my little brother every now and then.”

Yugyeom groaned, losing the cool posture he came here with. “You do see me.”

“Only if my lovely sister-in-law is with you,” his brother replied, winking at you while you shook your head. “I need attention, too, you know. In fact, I don’t even understand how the two of you still find stuff to talk about.”

“Well, we’ve moved on to discuss the Schrödinger and Hamiltonian equations,” you replied. “Actually, Yugyeom was just teaching me the time-dependent Schrödinger equation.”

His brother stared blankly for a few moments before he took a deep breath.

“Okay, then. I understand that this is my cue to leave before this turns into an episode of Big Bang Theory,” he said, walking out of the room and leaving you and Yugyeom alone.

Smiling, you looked at Yugyeom only to see his raised eyebrows.

“What?” you asked.

“I can’t even pronounce the names you just dropped. What even is that?” he questioned.

“I have no idea,” you replied, laughing. “I heard that in school but I never actually learned about it.”

“Right, okay,” Yugyeom said, laughing, too. “Nice way to get rid of my brother so we can go back to talking about which K-drama we’ll be watching next.”

“Exactly. And I don’t regret staying up all night to finish those last six episodes at all,” you said half-jokingly.

“I’m pretty sure you fell asleep during that last one,” Yugyeom said. “In fact, you kind of talked in your sleep.”

Oh. That couldn’t have been good, especially judging by the awkward expression on Yugyeom’s face.

“Really?” you asked, trying to remain calm. “What did I say?”

Yugyeom looked like he didn’t intend to bring this topic up, but he was stuck with it because the words came out accidentally. He didn’t really want to keep talking about it but now you were really curious what you could have possibly said in your sleep.

“I think you were, uh, talking to one of your friends,” Yugyeom started slowly, while he avoided your eyes. “But you were talking about me.”

Oh, boy. Clearly, based on his flustered state, you said some weird things.

“I’m sorry if I called you an asshole,” you said. “I tend to be hostile sometimes in my dreams.”

Yugyeom laughed awkwardly. “No, it’s not that. You were kind of telling someone that you were falling in love with me.”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel hot and cold at the same time, and yet here you were, feeling your entire face heat up, while shivers ran down your body. Fucking hell.

“Oh,” you said, realizing that if you stayed quiet and just stared at him, it’d be even worse. “I said… that, huh? Interesting.”

“Yeah,” Yugyeom nodded, still avoiding your eyes. “I kind of thought you were just quoting the drama we were watching but then you, uh, mentioned my name, so…”

The list of times when you wanted to disappear wasn’t very long. There was that one time this kid in kindergarten made you laugh so hard, you peed your pants in front of everyone. There was also the time your friend pushed you right into your crush in middle school, and you ended up knocking your forehead against his, which sent both of you to the nurse’s office and that boy never talked to you again. Yet, none of those times were as horrible as this.

As you stared at the cup of coffee in your hand, you wanted nothing more but to get away from here and wallow in embarrassment before you got ready to see Yugyeom again. If that ever happened.

“Yugyeom,” his brother’s voice called out again. This time, it lacked the teasing tone, however. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Yugyeom said and you could physically see relief radiating off of him because he didn’t have to discuss this topic with you any longer. Needless to say, as he walked out of the kitchen after his brother, you felt relieved, too.

Grabbing your cup and a few cookies to snack on, you headed to your bedroom, preparing to stay locked up in there for as long as this feeling of awkwardness stayed with you. So, for the rest of your life, probably.

However, almost as soon as you finished drinking your coffee, someone knocked on your door. Taking a deep breath, you climbed off your bed and opened the door to see Yugyeom biting his lip behind it. You still weren’t ready to face him but he already looked uncomfortable so your awkwardness would have made it worse. Which is why you decided to pretend as if the conversation in the kitchen didn’t happen at all.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling widely but then feeling your eye start to twitch because of your obviously fake facial expression.

“I’m, uh, I’m leaving,” Yugyeom said. “There’s this job my brother and I have to do. It’s urgent, so—”

“Oh. Is it dangerous?” you asked, feeling worried already.

“Well… not more than it usually is,” Yugyeom answered with a small, dry laugh. “I just came to check up on you, I guess. Do you want to, uh, hang out after I come back?”

He was almost blushing as he said this and you mentally cursed yourself for saying those things when you were asleep, because this invisible wall of awkwardness was between you two again, and you’ve fought so hard to tear it down and learn to be somewhat comfortable around each other.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling and this time, meaning it. “I’d love to.”

Yugyeom just nodded, trying to come up with what else to say. “Okay. So, I’m going to go now.”

“Okay,” you replied. “Stay safe.”

He nodded once again and gave you a small wave before walking down the hallway away from your room. You watched him disappear down the stairs and then closed the door of your bedroom, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

As you waited for Yugyeom to return from the job he was doing with his brother, you tried to decide if you were excited about hanging out with him again, or scared. You did want to see him again – you always wanted to see him – but you were also terrified that the confession in your sleep would change things between you two. Of course, you were married, but your marriage started by the two of you ignoring each other for a decent amount of time and now that you finally managed to get closer to each other, you had to tell him you were falling in love with him.

Were you falling in love with him, though? You definitely felt very fondly towards him but you’ve never been in love with anyone before, so how would you even know what that felt like? But then again, there’s the beating of your heart when he looks at you. There’s the clenching of your stomach when he laughs at something you said. There’s the sweating of your hands when he—

An unexpected knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, forcing you to jump up from your bed in shock.

You opened your door to reveal Yugyeom – biting his lip just like he did a few hours ago – standing outside of it. He looked tired but other than that, he didn’t look any different than he did usually, except for his clothes, which were all entirely stained with blood.

“Oh my God,” you gasped at the sight of his once white dress shirt. “Are you bleeding? Is that—”

“No, Y/n,” he stopped you. “It’s probably not mine. I’m okay. I just… we got into a bit of a problem.”

“Clearly!” you were now shouting, as your body began to produce massive amounts of adrenaline at the sight of him. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? Maybe you should see a—”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” Yugyeom said, sighing. He was obviously not in the mood to have his words questioned. “I’m just really tired.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. “You should go to sleep… if you’re really okay, that is.”

“I really am,” he confirmed again. “I have to… nevermind. I’m sorry we can’t hang out tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him, not understanding the feeling of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. “You should probably change. Do you need any help?”

Neither of you saw how ambiguous this sentence was. Yugyeom was too tired and you were too caught up in his sad eyes to realize any of the things you were saying.

“That’d be nice,” Yugyeom said then. “I just need to get out of these clothes and I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you nodded, walking out of your room and placing your hand on his shoulder – probably the only place on his shirt that wasn’t bloody – to guide him towards the bathroom. “Let’s go.”

He moved slowly as if he was stalling. It looked like he wanted to tell you something before you helped him take his dirty clothes off, but he kept his mouth shut. Just when he leaned against the cupboard in the bathroom and you walked up to him to unbutton his shirt, he grabbed your wrist into his.

“There’s something I need to tell you first,” he finally said. “I… I did get slightly scratched. It might be bleeding, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Your heart was now beating out of your chest. “What does ‘slightly’ mean to you, Yugyeom?”

You weren’t waiting for him to answer, however, and began to unbutton his shirt, biting your lip so you wouldn’t grimace at the feeling of the bloody material under your fingertips. As soon as you pulled his shirt away from his chest, you gasped, taking a step back.

“Yugyeom, you’re bleeding,” you said, watching the gnarly scratch under his collarbone. It looked as if someone tried to stab him with a knife, but instead ended up just dragging the blade across his chest. “The wound looks—”

“It’s fine,” Yugyeom said, breathing heavily. “Just… help me take this off, please.”

You’ve never seen him like this before. Of course, you’ve never seen him come to you right after he’s finished a job before, either.

“Is your brother okay?” you asked, suddenly worried. “Did you come back together?”

“No,” Yugyeom answered, swallowing deeply before continuing. “I took him to a hospital. He was shot. I’m going to see him later.”

Feeling you breathe in sharply at the news of his brother getting shot, you tried to calm yourself down and instead concentrate on what was in front of you – that is, a nearly shirtless, bleeding Yugyeom.

“Y-you can’t,” you said, peeling the shirt away from him. “You’re hurt, too. We need to do something about this scratch. It’s still bleeding pretty heavily. You can’t just ignore it.”

“It’ll be fine,” Yugyeom replied, raising his hands slightly and hissing in pain once you accidentally touched his wound with the tip of your fingers.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, watching him close his eyes and release a deep but ragged breath. “Yugyeom, this isn’t okay. You need to go to the hospital to get this—”

“Y/n, please,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, debating what to do next because it didn’t look like he was going to give in anytime soon.

“Let me at least put a bandage on it, okay?” you asked. After Yugyeom didn’t reply, you took this as an affirmative and opened the cupboard next to him to find a first-aid kit.

You’ve never actually had to look for bandages in a first-aid kit before and you weren’t sure if you should wash the wound first. It wasn’t like you had time to pull out a WikiHow article for this, either.

Choosing to trust your gut, you grabbed a towel from a nearby hook and soaked it in warm water.

“This might hurt,” you said, bringing the towel to his wound. “But I have to wash it. I think.”

Yugyeom didn’t reply but you saw him clench his jaw, so this must have meant that he was preparing himself for the pain that was to come. Taking a quick breath, you carefully placed the towel on the edge of the scratch and felt Yugyeom’s muscles contract. Understanding how much pain this caused him, you tried to keep your movements soft, not pushing the towel into him too hard.

The positive outcome of this was that you now knew that his wound was no longer bleeding. The negative? The towel was ruined and Yugyeom was breathing heavily as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

You used a different, dry towel to clean the skin around the wound so the bandage would stick and then moved on to the contents of the first-aid kit.

“So,” you said, reading the description on one of the bottles, hoping that it was an antiseptic. “Tell me what exactly happened out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Yugyeom replied through clenched teeth.

“Well, it’d be better if you talked about something,” you replied, opening the bottle you were holding and pouring some of its contents onto the gauze you picked up from the kit. “That way you might take your mind away from the pain.

“That’s… not possible,” Yugyeom replied, hissing again when you brushed the gauze with the antiseptic onto the wound. “What the—what is this thing? It’s burning.”

“It’s supposed to sting a little,” you said, continuing to thoroughly sterilize the scratch on his chest. “My mum used to always wash my wounds with this, whenever I fell and hurt myself.”

“Okay, then you’re hardcore,” Yugyeom replied, prying your hand away from his chest. “But this is literally putting me in even more pain. Please stop.”

You got your hand out of his grip. “Endure it. You don’t want to go to the hospital, so that’s what you get.”

Yugyeom groaned but didn’t stop you when you brought the gauze back to his wound, brushing over it a few more times just to be sure you got everything.

“Why did you use water first?” Yugyeom asked, watching your movements through clouded eyes. “For my scratch, I mean.”

“Please don’t question me,” you said, your voice coming out a little stricter than you intended. “I honestly have no idea what I’m doing but you refuse to go to the hospital, so, in a way, I’m responsible for your life and it’s stressing me out, okay? So, just… talk about something. Just not about what’s happening right now.”

If it wasn’t your anxious voice, then it was your shaking hands as you tried to peel the bandage off that told Yugyeom you were truly worried about him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But in comparison to the state of my brother… I’m as healthy as ever.”

“What happened to you guys there?” you asked, your tone also a few octaves lower to match his whispers.

“We were outnumbered,” Yugyeom finally admitted. “There were a lot more of them against my brother and me. We only came here to negotiate but… they came there to kill us. We were completely unprepared but it’s our fault. We should have seen it coming. No one changes the date of the meeting that fast, unless they’re planning something.”

You listened without talking, as you carefully poured a little bit of gel (it said it was for cut wounds, and you blindly trusted the first-aid kit) on another piece of gauze before placing it on Yugyeom’s scratch and then gluing a bandage over it.

“It’s kind of a miracle we made it out alive,” Yugyeom continued. “We ended up only taking out half of them. There’s the possibility that they’ll come after us, so we’ll have to—”

Your eyes widened in fear after you heard him say this and you raised your head to look up at him so fast, Yugyeom blinked, flinching slightly.

“Oh, they won’t come here,” he explained, understanding what caused you to react like that. “You’re safe.”

“What will you do next?” you asked, clearing your throat after your voice came out husky from all the anxiety that’s been spreading into your bloodstream as you listened to Yugyeom talk.

“We’ll go after them after… after my brother recovers,” Yugyeom said, sighing. “Hey, are you done here? Can I go—”

“You absolutely cannot,” you cut him off before he even finished. “What you need to do, is get into bed and sleep. You can’t go anywhere.”

“Y/n,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s my brother.”

“I know, Yugyeom,” you replied. “But you’re not going to be much better if you keep walking around with a wound like that. At least, if you’re going to the hospital, let them have a look at it.”

“I’m completely fine,” Yugyeom countered, walking around you and leaning down to pick up a shirt from the washing machine. As soon as he leaned down, though, you saw him freeze and exhale sharply.

“Oh, you’re totally fine,” you groaned, walking towards him to help him stand up. “Go to bed, Yugyeom. I’m serious.”

“I can’t—”

“Fine. Then let me come with you to the hospital.”

“Wh-why?” Yugyeom asked, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head and then carefully help him put his hands through the sleeves.

“Because you’re not well enough to be going anywhere on your own,” you replied. “And this is not an offer, Yugyeom. The only way you’ll be going is if I go with you.”

He just watched you, then. He wasn’t saying anything and you were starting to become concerned that he was in too much pain to talk, but when you raised your eyes to meet his, you were met with calmness instead of pain.

Your eyes stayed on his for a moment longer but Yugyeom still didn’t say anything.

“What is it?” you finally asked, feeling your heartbeat speed up before he even said anything.

“I’m just…” Yugyeom said, pausing to choose his next words. “I was thinking about what you said last night in your sleep.”

“Oh,” you looked down, remembering. “I was hoping we wouldn’t talk about that.”

“Your words were all I could think about when I was fighting the guy who came at me with a knife,” he admitted. “Are they true? Are you really… falling in love with me?”

Because you still had your hands just below his chest after having helped him put a new shirt on, you could feel that his heart was beating nearly as fast as yours. However, the image of Yugyeom not knowing if your feelings were real as he fought for his life, caused you to close your eyes and inhale sharply.

“I’m not falling in love with you, Yugyeom,” you said, raising your eyes to meet his. You’ve never been more certain about anything before. “I’ve already fallen.”

Another few seconds passed before Yugyeom reacted to your words by inhaling deeply and leaning into you to place his lips on yours. You froze for just one second, instantly clutching his shirt at the feeling of his soft lips between yours. When you finally replied to his kiss, you felt Yugyeom smile and exhale through his nose.

He moved his arms to wrap them around you but breathed in shakily mid-way because of the sharp stinging pain in his chest caused by his sudden movement.

You pulled away from him immediately. “Oh my God, are you in pain?”

He shook his head, sighing and gathering all of his strength to place his hands on your waist. As soon as he felt you under his fingertips, he realized that the pain was all worth it.

“I’m not. You make me feel better,” Yugyeom said, swallowing before continuing. “I-I love you. The hope that you love me too is what saved me out there.”

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backybae215 · 6 years

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I was tagged by the best in the west @andrebearakovsky and i’m avoiding working at work currently so HERE WE GOOOOOOOO~~~

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Rules: Answer 30 questions. Tag blogs you want to get to know better

Nickname(s): Jake

Gender: Female

Sign: Capricorn/Aquarius cusp

Height: 5 ′2.5″

Time: 7:08 AM

Fave band(s): ehhhh idk ?? Daft Punk, Tom Petty, Journey, Grizz?? I listen to a ton of random shit to pick a fav

Fave solo artist(s): Pharrell Williams, Madonna, Van Morrison, etc.

Song stuck in my head: Idk why but Daft Punks “Get Lucky” has been stuck in my head for weeks thus re-awakening the daft punk phase in my life

Last movie I saw: A Quiet Place - seriously one of the best ones ive seen in a bit

Last show I watched: West World IT WAS SO GOOD SOMEONE TALK TO ME ABT IT

When did I create my blog: Technically this is my side blog buttt.....Idk i think like a year or two ago ?

What do I post: hockey shit and a fuck ton about nicklas backstroms curls and im not even sorry

Last thing I googled: According to my search history it was Nikita Kuncherov lol

Do I have any other blogs: yep i have one main one and then a test blog for when i attempt to make gifs lol

Do I get asks: a decent amount but send me more lets be pals

Why did I choose my url: no idea i think i was drunk when i made it or couldnt think of anything hockey related so i settled for “bae” and yes i feel like a 14 year old but who cares.

Following: 668

Followed by: Idk i always get weirded out answering this questions but thanks to anyone who follows

Average hours of sleep: 5-7 -> itll differ per day of the week but im old and have to work early so im usually in bed by 930/10 - unless i get really deep into a fic or tv show in which case ill never sleep

Lucky number: eh i dont have one but ill go with 19

Instruments: zip zero none i am not musically talented at all

What I am wearing: A dress and flip flops for work

Dream job: ZOO KEEPER MAN

Dream trip: SWEDENNNNNN or New Zealand either im down for

Fave food: this is gross but i fucking love hot dogs

Nationality: American

Fav song: idk it differs per what mood im in but a song that i can ALWAYS get down to is Helena Beat by Foster the People

Last book I read: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

Top 3 fictional universes I wanna join: ummmmm iunno i suck at this i guess harry potter, west world [ just bc i got done watching it ] and like....idk like the marvel universes? but only if i was able to have a super power and hang out with everyone else.

Thanks to the lovely liz for curing my boredom this morning, im gonna tag @pleaseletmebeyours, @trilliath, @csykora and @doubleminorforlicking

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sambashua · 7 years

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92 questions/random questions/8 things tag~

hello friends !!! i’ve done the first two tags before but it’s been quite a while so ?? let’s see if i can come up w new responses i guess?? also these all have similar-ish questions so i thought i’d combine them so i don’t clog up everyone’s dashes~

tagged by (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ(ilya so dang much my favorite muffins)

92 questions: mariel! @jaehyunscult kelby! @yooncheoly and claudia! @s-lay-ing

random questions: kolbo! @yooncheoly ommo! @strawberryboo and cloodoo! @s-lay-ing

eight things: em! @seoulscapes mj! @jungnoir and kat! @atshinee

i’m going to tag @everyonesabiaswrecker @hoshi-ssi @king-hao @moonhyook @taeismyking @honestlay @yoonsunha @amessence @kylamassie1 @peachesandkili and also the beans who tagged me above!! you can do one of the ones you didn’t tag me in hehe(≧◡≦)

you guys can choose whichever tags you want!! or all of them ? idk it’s basically either long, easy or creative so whatever you feel like doing… or do none of them!! that works too! if you don’t want to be tagged just let me knowwww also you rlly don’t have to read this whole thing it is so damn long… but w/o further ado…

92 questions

the last…

1. drink: water

2. phone call: my grandma !

3. text message: “THEBOP OF THE SUMMER” (sic)

4. song you listened to: ‘love paint (every afternoon)’ by NU’EST started playing before i got out of the car last night… WAIT I JUST REMEMBERED I WATCHED MX’S NEWTON THIS MORNING OH MY GOD THE BOP OF THE SUMMER THAT’S WHAT THE TEXT WAS ABT BTW

5. time you cried: hmmmm not monsta x surprisingly ? but we have some rlly spicy food in LA and @everyonesabiaswrecker @taeismyking and i had to hide our eyes from the waiter lol

have you ever…

6. dated someone twice: nooo (as i said last time i’ve never dated so these are all no’s so you can skip around a bit i suppose)

7. been cheated on: nooo

8. kissed someone and regretted it: nooo

9. lost someone special: yea

10. been depressed: nope

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: drinking makes ya do bad stuff kids

list three favorite colors (12-15)…

grey, light blue nd light green !

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: yeAH SO MANY! irl and online i’m so thankful for everyone i’ve met~~ since i started uni i was rlly nervous abt meeting people and although i have one (1) new friend irl (shoutout to my main main main kat @atshinee literally where would i be w/o you i probably woulda gotten stuck at camp bc of the hail storm) i’ve met countless lovely individuals online that i am forever grateful for;;; now i’m being all sappy someoNE STOP ME

16. fallen out of love: nooo

17. laughed until you cried: almost everyday~~

18. found out someone was talking about you: oh yea

19. met someone who changed you: YES

20. found out who your true friends are: yeah!

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: nooooooooooooooope

general stuff

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: idk like probably actually 80% but they’re not people i talk to now ? (kat still yells at me abt my answer last time)

23. do you have any pets: I GOT TWO CATS TOM TOM AND MYSTERY THEY ARE ADORABLE BEANS ND I LIKE TO BRAG ABT THEM SO ASK ME FOR PICS

24. do you want to change your name: i like my name a lot tbh (there’s so many endless nickname possibilities honestly)

25. what did you do for your last birthday: i got gelato w two of my closest frandssss and also listened to nct dream like the whole day it was the best

26. what time did you wake up: um m m i think 9? yesterday i went to bed at 3:30 and woke up at 7:30 so i slept in more today lol

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: trying to read a soonhoon fic from eep and messaging ivy:D

28. name something you cannot wait for: uM IDK EVERYTHING I WAS WAITING FOR ALREADY HAPPENED i guess just moving back to school and starting classes??? i’m so anxious ugh

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: 4 ? hours ago ?

30. what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: um idk i think i’m pretty blessed to be completely honest

31. what are you listening to right now: there’s construction going on in the distance idk what they’re doing but it is LOUD

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i’m so shook people haven’t talked to any toms i’ve met so many i don’t undeRSTAND

33. something that is getting on your nerves: ignorance *finger guns*

34. most visited website: tumblr (i haven’t been on youtube much lately cry)

35. elementary school: yeahhh

36. high school: yeahhh

37. college: yeahhh

38. hair color: blonde

39. long or short hair: it’s so long rn i’m constantly choking on it

40. do you have a crush on someone: crushes are for noobs

41. what do you like about yourself: “everything, love yourself.” -kat

42. piercings: ears but i never wear them

43. blood type: idk my parents are both AB so my mom says we’re that too but mom that’s not how genetics work

44. nickname: i have so many but my most common one is mir~ i answer to anything tho

45. relationship status: engaged to jeon wonwoo

46. zodiac sign: cancer~

47. pronouns: she/her

48. favorite tv show: game of thrones or below deck (watch it it’s a reality show abt a yacht crew it’s so entertaining)

49. tattoos: nope i’m too indecisive

50. righty or lefty: right

first…

51. surgery: i had surgery junior year of high school

52. piercing: did they not already ask this oh jk this is first well i still only have ears

53. best friend: in the womb bitchhh (-8 months would be the official age)

54. sport: i think karate ? my dad is super sporty tho so sister and i tried every sport known to man

55. vacation: probably washington bc i have a lot of family there

56. pair of sneakers: literally who knows this tho

right now…

57. eating: nothing

58. drinking: now i’m drinking tea

59. i’m about to: eat a bagel maybe

60. listening to: good luck by aoa (yessss my girls)

61. waiting for: jordyn to get off work so i can see her new dorm:D

62. do you want kids: i always have

63. do you want to get married: i don’t really know marriage seems so outdated…

64: what career do you want: journalist (yay)

which is better…

65. hugs or kisses: hugs!

66. lips or eyes: eyes!

67. shorter or taller: i don’t have much preference but i’m tall and i like being tall

68. older or younger: i don’t really care bc some older people are really immature and some younger people are really mature so~

70. nice arms or nice stomach: i really really don’t care

71. sensitive or loud: these honestly aren’t even antonyms

72. hook up or relationship: relationship

73. troublemaker or hesitant: i’ve never been a troublemaker so ?

have you ever…

74. kissed a stranger: nooo

75. drank hard liquor: neh ?

76. lost glasses/lenses: i have above average vision boiiiii

77. turned someone down: i mean;;;; i think most people have at least indirectly

78. had sex on the first date: nooo

79. broken someone’s heart: i really doubt it lol

80. had your heart broken: jeon wonwoo breaks my heart daily

81. been arrested: nooo

82. cried when someone died: yeahh

83. fallen for a friend: no

do you believe in…

84. yourself: YEAH I GOT THIS! YOU GOT THIS! WE ALL GOT THIS!

85. miracles: maybe ?

86. love at first sight: not even a little bit

87. santa claus:

LOOK AT SOONYOUNG I’M LAUGHING

88. kiss on the first date: i mean i don’t see why not

89. angels: maybe ?

other…

90. current best friends name: sister n em n kat n cass n jords n val :3

91. eye color: grey ish

92. favorite movie: the proposal was my favorite movie for so long;;; i liked moonlight a lot too go see it

random questions

dude i fucking forgot abt this one i thought i was done fuck (why is this font so tiny)

relationship status: single for 19 years bishhhhhhhh favorite color: grey!! but i’ve been feelin orange lately hmmmm lipstick or chapstick: i like tinted lip balm:) but i even use vaseline sometimes try it okay it makes yo lips so soft last song you listened to: well i already said so i’ll do what’s stuck in my head rn: coffee by bts (it’s so good i get such calming vibes from it) last movie you watched: BABY DRIVER it was so ffffff good 100/10 would rec~ the car chases were so cool dude also ansel elgort is such a cutie top 3 characters: i’ll as april ludgate from parks n rec (are you happy jords), celaena from throne of glass, ndddd risa koizumi from lovcom:) top 3 ships: jejun ! soonwoo ! MARKHYUCK(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ books you are currently reading: rnnnn i’m STILL reading heir of fire (don’t worry cass i will finish it in time) top 5 musicals: mulan is endlessly iconic okay, hsm, phantom of the opera, the sound of music nd mama mia !

eight things

last movie watched: baby driver hoo hoo last song listened to: me gustas tu bitchhhhh last book read: Crown of Midnight still oops sorry cass i’m so damn slow these days last thing eaten: fig newtons (buy newton by monsta x on itunes) if you could be anywhere right now, where would you be: wherever @atshinee is because i want to support her for her test but i know i would probably just distract her:(((((( a fictional character you would hang out with for the day: probably dorian from throne of glass bc he just seems like such a lovable dork i want to give him a big ole hug he needs it what fictional world/universe would you want to spend a week in: i used to be obsessed w the series Gregor the Overlander as a kid and i’d really want to spend a day there that would be so awesome esp the one where they travel through the one rainforest jungle… but also Harry Potter bc i rlly want to go to hogwarts and just;;; look around? it’s so pretty and i want to see all the paintings and staircases and the people it’d be great last video game played: i’ve never rlly played video games… i used to play the sims does that count rip

well it’s finally frickin done i doubt anyone bared w me for this trainwreck…….. i’m so tired now will i even do more of these today jk i gotta i am so behind but no selfie tags i look trash

#tagged #bye #this was so long #time to sleep #jk #i'm not that tired #just ded #thank you guys for tagging me!!!#i think that was everyone???#some of those are a bit old rip #who even read this like wow that's dedication #it's like;;; not even rly funny either so rip #only do this if you want to ofc!!#cries bc the random qs was the first tag jen bean tagged me in:(((#mir moos

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