What A Mistake Accident.
Here are a handful of ficlets I’ve written recently, in response to prompts on Tumblr! Fandoms: Taskmaster, Death Note, Final Fantasy VIII, The Quarry, Omori.
th_esaurus: Taskmaster: Alex says Greg doesn't have to keep kissing him just for fanservice, but he isn't. (To be honest, I misread ‘Alex says Greg’ as ‘Greg says Alex’, which is why the below doesn’t entirely fit the prompt.)
After the recording, Greg quietly draws Alex into one of Pinewood’s many bleak concrete corners.
“Alex,” Greg says. “Taskmaster is already incomprehensibly, terrifyingly popular. I don’t think you have to kiss me to get viewers. We’re fine.”
“You’d rather I didn’t, then?” Alex asks.
“I’m just saying, you know, don’t force yourself. We don’t have to dance for the whims of a load of fans with weird tastes.” Greg pauses. “Well, you might have to, but not necessarily in this specific area.”
“I see,” Alex says. “And... if it’s not for the whims of the fans?”
“What, you want to put the fans off?” Greg asks. “I think anyone who’d be scandalised has probably stopped watching by now.”
Alex just looks at him. Greg has the sudden sense that this must be what it’s like to do a task: Alex just standing there, the little shit, radiating the impression that he knows something you don’t.
“Wait,” Greg says. “Are you saying you want to do it?”
Alex gives what looks like a very carefully calculated shrug.
“Alex,” Greg says, “if you want to make a pass at a colleague, you know the normal thing is to do it off-camera, right?”
“Oh.” Alex takes an exaggerated, conspicuous look around for cameras, then looks straight back at him. Making direct eye contact with Alex has, it turns out, abruptly become uncomfortable. “Would you like to have a meal or something?”
Greg lets out a long breath, scrubs his hands through his hair. There’s a lot to reassess here.
But, if he’s going to be reassessing it anyway, might as well do it over dinner.
“Yeah,” he says at last. “All right.”
doreyg: Light overthinking what he'd do in that L/Light/Ryuk threesome idea you were thinking about a bit ago. (Again, the resulting ficlet doesn’t entirely fit the prompt; I ended up with Light overthinking in the aftermath of a L/Light/Ryuk threesome.)
“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” L comments, afterwards.
Light bristles at once. “We were having sex. That’s not unusual.”
“Really?” L asks, mildly. “I happen to know I’m extremely disappointing in bed. Yet you didn’t seem to have any trouble reaching orgasm.”
Light tenses. Does he know about Ryuk? Does he suspect-
No. L can’t see or hear Ryuk; he can’t feel his touch. He doesn’t even know shinigami exist. It would be ludicrous for him to have guessed that there was someone else in the bed with them.
“Perhaps my feelings for you are so strong I couldn’t help myself,” Light says, carefully sarcastic in tone.
L gives him an unreadable look. “Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps I faked orgasm,” Light says, “as part of my supposed intricate plan to seem less like Kira. Were you deliberately bad in bed as a test?”
L shrugs. “You could call it a natural talent.”
reipan, who loves to shove me as far out of my comfort zone as possible, challenged me to write Light Yagami/You, The Reader fanfiction for Death Note. I’d never attempted readerfic before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.
For your first date, Light takes you on a walk in the woods.
You weren’t sure, when he asked you out, whether he was really interested in you. Something felt a little off. But the scenery is beautiful; maybe he’s really thought about this.
“How do you know Ryuzaki?” he asks, when you’re starting to wonder how far you’re going.
“I don’t, really,” you say, watching the sunlight slanting between the trees.
“You expect me to believe that?”
It’s said lightly, like a joke, with a small laugh. But the strangeness of the question startles you into glancing at Light. He’s looking straight at you, with an intensity that makes the question feel a lot less casual than it sounded at first.
“Why would I lie?” you ask.
He shakes his head. The intensity is gone in an instant; it’s hard not to wonder exactly where it’s gone. “Sorry. It’s just that he was the one who introduced us. I assumed you knew each other.”
“We’ve only spoken a couple of times.” They were pretty weird conversations. “He said he wanted to introduce me to someone interesting.”
Light seems to consider that for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” he says at last. “Ryuzaki... has a history of playing pranks on me, I suppose. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t planning anything.”
“How do you know Ryuzaki?” you ask.
Light shakes his head. “It’s not important. Let’s head back. I’ll cook you dinner to apologise, if you’d like.”
-
“Tell me how you really know Ryuzaki,” Light breathes into your ear, when you’re in bed.
You’re starting to get the sense that this isn’t going to work.
corviiids: Death Note: L and Light trapped on a road trip together for contrived reasons. (Once again, I have not technically fulfilled the prompt to the letter; I’ve only written the setup for the roadtrip. I’m bad at this.)
“Why Osaka?” Light asks.
“It’s related to the Kira investigation,” L says. “I’m sure you understand that I can’t share more details with a suspect.”
Osaka? Light’s never been to Osaka. He’s killed people in Osaka, of course, but why would that place be of more interest to L than any other? “It seems like you wouldn’t want me there, then. Why do you want me to drive you?”
“I don’t have a licence,” L says. “Cars aren’t designed for the way I sit.”
That confirms one of Light’s suspicions about L. It’s always satisfying to learn he’s correctly perceived something about him, however small. “That makes sense. Why me specifically, though?”
“Are you concerned because you’ve only just received your licence, Light-kun?” L asks. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Light grits his teeth. “I can drive. I’m only asking because I thought you had drivers.”
“I’d appreciate your company.”
This is a trap. Stuck in a car with L for six hours: he’s obviously hoping Light will slip up, give something away. But it might be an opportunity to learn more about L in return.
It would take half the time on the train. Would Kira suggest that, wanting to avoid the risk of spending too long in close quarters with L?
Perhaps. But Light Yagami would also suggest it, in his practicality and his desire to keep L’s feet off his dashboard. He’s too intelligent not to think of the possibility; it would be more suspicious not to propose it.
“It would be faster to take the train,” Light says.
“Are you concerned about spending time with me, Light-kun?” L asks.
Light hates him.
(The tags when I originally posted this to Tumblr: L gets to Osaka, buys keshi mochi, leaves, Light is absolutely livid)
marmolita: FFVIII, there was only one bed.
“Soooo,” Rinoa says. “Don’t get me wrong, Zell; it’s great that you’re letting us use your room. But how is sleeping in here actually going to work?”
It’s a good question. There’s only one bed in here, and it’s not a big bed.
“I could keep watch,” Squall suggests. If it’s just Zell and Rinoa sharing the bed, they’ll probably find a way to get comfortable.
“For what?” Rinoa asks. “We’re in town. There aren’t going to be any monsters coming up the stairs. I don’t think we’ve caused enough trouble for the soldiers to start raiding houses yet.”
“Nobody’s getting past my ma, anyway,” Zell says. “We’re safe here.”
“Why don’t you share a bed with your ma, Zell?” Rinoa asks.
Zell shifts uncomfortably, scratches the back of his neck. “I really don’t want to cause any more trouble for her, y’know? She’s doing a lot for us.”
Rinoa rests her knuckles under her chin, mock-thoughtful. “Maybe Squall could share a bed with your ma.”
Zell makes an indignant squawking noise.
Squall tries to focus on the problem at hand. “I could sleep on the floor. If-”
“Actually,” Rinoa says, “we could at least find out whether we’ll all fit on the bed, right?”
-
Squall presses himself against the wall, as closely as he can, his back against the smooth hard surface of it. Trying to take up as little space as he can, so Zell and Rinoa have the rest of the bed to themselves.
“Is that comfortable?” Rinoa asks. She climbs into the bed, shuffles up close to him. “You’re as straight as a board. It doesn’t look very natural.”
“I’m fine.” He probably won’t sleep well. But he never sleeps well; that’s nothing new.
“It’s okay for you to take up space too, y’know? I’m not gonna pass out if your legs touch mine.”
“Uh,” Zell says, “Rinoa, are you sure you’re okay in the middle?”
Rinoa laughs. “You both worry way too much.”
-
Squall wakes when it’s still dark. It’s strange to realise he’s been sleeping; he wasn’t really expecting to.
Rinoa has tucked herself against his front at some point in the night; she’s barely taking up any more space in the bed than he is. It’s not something he’s used to, that kind of human warmth. She’s breathing slowly, deeply; he can feel it against his collarbone.
There’s a hand on Squall’s side. It takes him a moment to realise that it’s Zell’s. Zell is taking up most of the bed by this point, lying almost face-down, one of his arms slung across Rinoa.
Squall thinks about moving Zell’s hand, or nudging Rinoa away, getting a little more space between them.
In the end, he just closes his eyes again.
Anonymous: The Quarry: Travis/Laura first kiss.
It feels unreal, walking away from Silas’s body. He’s not the first person Laura’s killed tonight. But he’s the last, hopefully, and that means she can’t just keep focusing on her next objective; she’s going to have to look back at what she’s done.
Not yet. She’s not ready yet.
It takes her a moment to realise Ryan’s asking if she’s okay.
“I’m fine,” she says.
She thinks she might hear Travis laugh, quietly. She turns sharply to look at him. But his expression’s as hard to read as ever.
“Really?” Ryan asks.
It’s a fair question, she guesses. She slows to a stop, thinking about it.
“I guess I’m just trying to figure out what comes next.” She glances at Travis again. “It’s over, right?”
“It’s over,” Travis says. “I figure what’s next for you is going home with that boyfriend of yours.”
“Friend,” Laura corrects him. She still cares about Max; she came out here for a reason. But it turns out that spending two months in a cell next to your werewolf boyfriend is the kind of thing that makes you reassess your relationship. “What about you?”
Travis shrugs. “Wait for the consequences to come down.”
It takes Laura a moment to process what he means. “You think I’m going to turn you in?”
He makes direct eye contact with her. It always makes her skin prickle. “You saying you’re not gonna?”
She wasn’t planning to. If she tried to report Travis, he could destroy her in return by exposing what she did to his mother and niece. “I guess we’ll find out.”
He nods, slowly. “Either way, looks like we won’t be seeing each other again.”
That’s a strange realisation. Even stranger that Laura’s instinct is to try to contradict him, to think of ways they might cross paths. Hard to picture it happening outside a courtroom.
“Thanks,” he says. “For ending it.” He nods at the gun in her hands.
Fuck. She’s still holding the gun.
It all seems to hit her at once. She made it, she’s alive - she broke the curse - she killed three people, fuck-
She doesn’t realise she’s shaking until she feels Travis’s hand on her arm, the steadiness of it in contrast. He takes the gun from her, and she lets him. Insane to trust him, after everything he’s done. But, on some level, she does.
“Laura,” he says, quietly.
She kisses him. She doesn’t know what else to do.
“Uh,” Ryan says.
Travis seems to freeze up, for the first instant. But then Laura feels his hand in her hair, and she pulls him closer, growling a little in her throat. It feels almost like the buildup to transforming, the unnatural hunger of it.
“Uh,” Ryan says, “I don’t think you guys need me here for this. Could you just, like... point me in the direction of camp?”
theprincesswithoutvoice: The Quarry: Hackearney where they were dating but Travis broke things off thinking it was best for her but then realising he can’t be without her.
His family’s gone; there’s no one left to save. Going after Silas won’t change anything. Travis will end up dead, or he’ll end up a werewolf, or he’ll just end up with one more pointless corpse at his feet.
But it’s like an itch, every month. It’s like his own version of a wolf transformation; he sees the full moon in the sky and he gets a taste for blood.
He was able to keep it at bay, for a while, when he was with Laura. But he’s pushed her away, and here he is again, shotgun in hand, hearing the call of the woods.
“Tell me not to do this,” he says aloud.
Laura doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t; she’s not here.
He shoulders his shotgun and walks out into the night.
quonit: Omori sunflower minific? A moment of peace. Maybe not happy, maybe still melancholic, but something soft post ending to hold on to.
“Sunny?”
For a long time, hearing that soft voice meant that Sunny was dreaming. It takes him a moment to register the background hum of the hospital and realise he’s awake.
He opens his eye.
It’s still night, the lights of the hospital equipment bright spots in the semi-darkness. Basil is watching him from across the pillow.
Up close like this, it’s hard not to notice the ways Basil has changed since they were younger. He looks thinner, tired. He has a scattering of freckles; it’s strange to notice those. Sunny’s seen him night after night in his dreams, he’d assumed that was keeping Basil’s image preserved in his mind somehow, but he supposes he must have forgotten some details.
He wonders what he’s forgotten about Mari.
“What are you doing here?” Basil asks, quietly.
Sunny had been waiting by Basil’s bedside for him to wake up. Eventually, as the night came on, he’d just crawled into the bed with him.
He should probably have gone back to his own room. But he hadn’t wanted Basil to wake up alone. Not this time, at least. Not after everything.
They’ve both spent a lot of time alone. It’s too late to undo that. But he can be here now.
“I was tired,” Sunny says.
Basil looks for a moment as if he’s going to ask for more than that. In the end, though, he just nods and says, in a very small voice, “Okay.”
He reaches out and lays a hand on Sunny’s wrist, tentatively. Sunny rests his own hand over it and closes his eye.
When he falls asleep again, he doesn’t dream at all.
I’m glad I’ve kept up my tradition of writing a little bit every day in November; it’s been good to have something to focus on. I haven’t written anything for today yet; I’m going to have to think of something!
th_esaurus: Taskmaster: Alex says Greg doesn't have to keep kissing him just for fanservice, but he isn't. (To be honest, I misread ‘Alex says Greg’ as ‘Greg says Alex’, which is why the below doesn’t entirely fit the prompt.)
After the recording, Greg quietly draws Alex into one of Pinewood’s many bleak concrete corners.
“Alex,” Greg says. “Taskmaster is already incomprehensibly, terrifyingly popular. I don’t think you have to kiss me to get viewers. We’re fine.”
“You’d rather I didn’t, then?” Alex asks.
“I’m just saying, you know, don’t force yourself. We don’t have to dance for the whims of a load of fans with weird tastes.” Greg pauses. “Well, you might have to, but not necessarily in this specific area.”
“I see,” Alex says. “And... if it’s not for the whims of the fans?”
“What, you want to put the fans off?” Greg asks. “I think anyone who’d be scandalised has probably stopped watching by now.”
Alex just looks at him. Greg has the sudden sense that this must be what it’s like to do a task: Alex just standing there, the little shit, radiating the impression that he knows something you don’t.
“Wait,” Greg says. “Are you saying you want to do it?”
Alex gives what looks like a very carefully calculated shrug.
“Alex,” Greg says, “if you want to make a pass at a colleague, you know the normal thing is to do it off-camera, right?”
“Oh.” Alex takes an exaggerated, conspicuous look around for cameras, then looks straight back at him. Making direct eye contact with Alex has, it turns out, abruptly become uncomfortable. “Would you like to have a meal or something?”
Greg lets out a long breath, scrubs his hands through his hair. There’s a lot to reassess here.
But, if he’s going to be reassessing it anyway, might as well do it over dinner.
“Yeah,” he says at last. “All right.”
doreyg: Light overthinking what he'd do in that L/Light/Ryuk threesome idea you were thinking about a bit ago. (Again, the resulting ficlet doesn’t entirely fit the prompt; I ended up with Light overthinking in the aftermath of a L/Light/Ryuk threesome.)
“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” L comments, afterwards.
Light bristles at once. “We were having sex. That’s not unusual.”
“Really?” L asks, mildly. “I happen to know I’m extremely disappointing in bed. Yet you didn’t seem to have any trouble reaching orgasm.”
Light tenses. Does he know about Ryuk? Does he suspect-
No. L can’t see or hear Ryuk; he can’t feel his touch. He doesn’t even know shinigami exist. It would be ludicrous for him to have guessed that there was someone else in the bed with them.
“Perhaps my feelings for you are so strong I couldn’t help myself,” Light says, carefully sarcastic in tone.
L gives him an unreadable look. “Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps I faked orgasm,” Light says, “as part of my supposed intricate plan to seem less like Kira. Were you deliberately bad in bed as a test?”
L shrugs. “You could call it a natural talent.”
reipan, who loves to shove me as far out of my comfort zone as possible, challenged me to write Light Yagami/You, The Reader fanfiction for Death Note. I’d never attempted readerfic before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.
For your first date, Light takes you on a walk in the woods.
You weren’t sure, when he asked you out, whether he was really interested in you. Something felt a little off. But the scenery is beautiful; maybe he’s really thought about this.
“How do you know Ryuzaki?” he asks, when you’re starting to wonder how far you’re going.
“I don’t, really,” you say, watching the sunlight slanting between the trees.
“You expect me to believe that?”
It’s said lightly, like a joke, with a small laugh. But the strangeness of the question startles you into glancing at Light. He’s looking straight at you, with an intensity that makes the question feel a lot less casual than it sounded at first.
“Why would I lie?” you ask.
He shakes his head. The intensity is gone in an instant; it’s hard not to wonder exactly where it’s gone. “Sorry. It’s just that he was the one who introduced us. I assumed you knew each other.”
“We’ve only spoken a couple of times.” They were pretty weird conversations. “He said he wanted to introduce me to someone interesting.”
Light seems to consider that for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” he says at last. “Ryuzaki... has a history of playing pranks on me, I suppose. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t planning anything.”
“How do you know Ryuzaki?” you ask.
Light shakes his head. “It’s not important. Let’s head back. I’ll cook you dinner to apologise, if you’d like.”
-
“Tell me how you really know Ryuzaki,” Light breathes into your ear, when you’re in bed.
You’re starting to get the sense that this isn’t going to work.
corviiids: Death Note: L and Light trapped on a road trip together for contrived reasons. (Once again, I have not technically fulfilled the prompt to the letter; I’ve only written the setup for the roadtrip. I’m bad at this.)
“Why Osaka?” Light asks.
“It’s related to the Kira investigation,” L says. “I’m sure you understand that I can’t share more details with a suspect.”
Osaka? Light’s never been to Osaka. He’s killed people in Osaka, of course, but why would that place be of more interest to L than any other? “It seems like you wouldn’t want me there, then. Why do you want me to drive you?”
“I don’t have a licence,” L says. “Cars aren’t designed for the way I sit.”
That confirms one of Light’s suspicions about L. It’s always satisfying to learn he’s correctly perceived something about him, however small. “That makes sense. Why me specifically, though?”
“Are you concerned because you’ve only just received your licence, Light-kun?” L asks. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Light grits his teeth. “I can drive. I’m only asking because I thought you had drivers.”
“I’d appreciate your company.”
This is a trap. Stuck in a car with L for six hours: he’s obviously hoping Light will slip up, give something away. But it might be an opportunity to learn more about L in return.
It would take half the time on the train. Would Kira suggest that, wanting to avoid the risk of spending too long in close quarters with L?
Perhaps. But Light Yagami would also suggest it, in his practicality and his desire to keep L’s feet off his dashboard. He’s too intelligent not to think of the possibility; it would be more suspicious not to propose it.
“It would be faster to take the train,” Light says.
“Are you concerned about spending time with me, Light-kun?” L asks.
Light hates him.
(The tags when I originally posted this to Tumblr: L gets to Osaka, buys keshi mochi, leaves, Light is absolutely livid)
marmolita: FFVIII, there was only one bed.
“Soooo,” Rinoa says. “Don’t get me wrong, Zell; it’s great that you’re letting us use your room. But how is sleeping in here actually going to work?”
It’s a good question. There’s only one bed in here, and it’s not a big bed.
“I could keep watch,” Squall suggests. If it’s just Zell and Rinoa sharing the bed, they’ll probably find a way to get comfortable.
“For what?” Rinoa asks. “We’re in town. There aren’t going to be any monsters coming up the stairs. I don’t think we’ve caused enough trouble for the soldiers to start raiding houses yet.”
“Nobody’s getting past my ma, anyway,” Zell says. “We’re safe here.”
“Why don’t you share a bed with your ma, Zell?” Rinoa asks.
Zell shifts uncomfortably, scratches the back of his neck. “I really don’t want to cause any more trouble for her, y’know? She’s doing a lot for us.”
Rinoa rests her knuckles under her chin, mock-thoughtful. “Maybe Squall could share a bed with your ma.”
Zell makes an indignant squawking noise.
Squall tries to focus on the problem at hand. “I could sleep on the floor. If-”
“Actually,” Rinoa says, “we could at least find out whether we’ll all fit on the bed, right?”
-
Squall presses himself against the wall, as closely as he can, his back against the smooth hard surface of it. Trying to take up as little space as he can, so Zell and Rinoa have the rest of the bed to themselves.
“Is that comfortable?” Rinoa asks. She climbs into the bed, shuffles up close to him. “You’re as straight as a board. It doesn’t look very natural.”
“I’m fine.” He probably won’t sleep well. But he never sleeps well; that’s nothing new.
“It’s okay for you to take up space too, y’know? I’m not gonna pass out if your legs touch mine.”
“Uh,” Zell says, “Rinoa, are you sure you’re okay in the middle?”
Rinoa laughs. “You both worry way too much.”
-
Squall wakes when it’s still dark. It’s strange to realise he’s been sleeping; he wasn’t really expecting to.
Rinoa has tucked herself against his front at some point in the night; she’s barely taking up any more space in the bed than he is. It’s not something he’s used to, that kind of human warmth. She’s breathing slowly, deeply; he can feel it against his collarbone.
There’s a hand on Squall’s side. It takes him a moment to realise that it’s Zell’s. Zell is taking up most of the bed by this point, lying almost face-down, one of his arms slung across Rinoa.
Squall thinks about moving Zell’s hand, or nudging Rinoa away, getting a little more space between them.
In the end, he just closes his eyes again.
Anonymous: The Quarry: Travis/Laura first kiss.
It feels unreal, walking away from Silas’s body. He’s not the first person Laura’s killed tonight. But he’s the last, hopefully, and that means she can’t just keep focusing on her next objective; she’s going to have to look back at what she’s done.
Not yet. She’s not ready yet.
It takes her a moment to realise Ryan’s asking if she’s okay.
“I’m fine,” she says.
She thinks she might hear Travis laugh, quietly. She turns sharply to look at him. But his expression’s as hard to read as ever.
“Really?” Ryan asks.
It’s a fair question, she guesses. She slows to a stop, thinking about it.
“I guess I’m just trying to figure out what comes next.” She glances at Travis again. “It’s over, right?”
“It’s over,” Travis says. “I figure what’s next for you is going home with that boyfriend of yours.”
“Friend,” Laura corrects him. She still cares about Max; she came out here for a reason. But it turns out that spending two months in a cell next to your werewolf boyfriend is the kind of thing that makes you reassess your relationship. “What about you?”
Travis shrugs. “Wait for the consequences to come down.”
It takes Laura a moment to process what he means. “You think I’m going to turn you in?”
He makes direct eye contact with her. It always makes her skin prickle. “You saying you’re not gonna?”
She wasn’t planning to. If she tried to report Travis, he could destroy her in return by exposing what she did to his mother and niece. “I guess we’ll find out.”
He nods, slowly. “Either way, looks like we won’t be seeing each other again.”
That’s a strange realisation. Even stranger that Laura’s instinct is to try to contradict him, to think of ways they might cross paths. Hard to picture it happening outside a courtroom.
“Thanks,” he says. “For ending it.” He nods at the gun in her hands.
Fuck. She’s still holding the gun.
It all seems to hit her at once. She made it, she’s alive - she broke the curse - she killed three people, fuck-
She doesn’t realise she’s shaking until she feels Travis’s hand on her arm, the steadiness of it in contrast. He takes the gun from her, and she lets him. Insane to trust him, after everything he’s done. But, on some level, she does.
“Laura,” he says, quietly.
She kisses him. She doesn’t know what else to do.
“Uh,” Ryan says.
Travis seems to freeze up, for the first instant. But then Laura feels his hand in her hair, and she pulls him closer, growling a little in her throat. It feels almost like the buildup to transforming, the unnatural hunger of it.
“Uh,” Ryan says, “I don’t think you guys need me here for this. Could you just, like... point me in the direction of camp?”
theprincesswithoutvoice: The Quarry: Hackearney where they were dating but Travis broke things off thinking it was best for her but then realising he can’t be without her.
His family’s gone; there’s no one left to save. Going after Silas won’t change anything. Travis will end up dead, or he’ll end up a werewolf, or he’ll just end up with one more pointless corpse at his feet.
But it’s like an itch, every month. It’s like his own version of a wolf transformation; he sees the full moon in the sky and he gets a taste for blood.
He was able to keep it at bay, for a while, when he was with Laura. But he’s pushed her away, and here he is again, shotgun in hand, hearing the call of the woods.
“Tell me not to do this,” he says aloud.
Laura doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t; she’s not here.
He shoulders his shotgun and walks out into the night.
quonit: Omori sunflower minific? A moment of peace. Maybe not happy, maybe still melancholic, but something soft post ending to hold on to.
“Sunny?”
For a long time, hearing that soft voice meant that Sunny was dreaming. It takes him a moment to register the background hum of the hospital and realise he’s awake.
He opens his eye.
It’s still night, the lights of the hospital equipment bright spots in the semi-darkness. Basil is watching him from across the pillow.
Up close like this, it’s hard not to notice the ways Basil has changed since they were younger. He looks thinner, tired. He has a scattering of freckles; it’s strange to notice those. Sunny’s seen him night after night in his dreams, he’d assumed that was keeping Basil’s image preserved in his mind somehow, but he supposes he must have forgotten some details.
He wonders what he’s forgotten about Mari.
“What are you doing here?” Basil asks, quietly.
Sunny had been waiting by Basil’s bedside for him to wake up. Eventually, as the night came on, he’d just crawled into the bed with him.
He should probably have gone back to his own room. But he hadn’t wanted Basil to wake up alone. Not this time, at least. Not after everything.
They’ve both spent a lot of time alone. It’s too late to undo that. But he can be here now.
“I was tired,” Sunny says.
Basil looks for a moment as if he’s going to ask for more than that. In the end, though, he just nods and says, in a very small voice, “Okay.”
He reaches out and lays a hand on Sunny’s wrist, tentatively. Sunny rests his own hand over it and closes his eye.
When he falls asleep again, he doesn’t dream at all.
I’m glad I’ve kept up my tradition of writing a little bit every day in November; it’s been good to have something to focus on. I haven’t written anything for today yet; I’m going to have to think of something!