#pls have an awesome friday n don't forget to drink water!

[inkykeiji]

hii!! if it’s still available, 12- (faulty) with 1950s keigo !!

prompt: faulty series: 1950s au warnings: just angst rly, but fluffy angst ehehe words: 366

Sometimes he fears there’s something faulty with him; something loose, something missing, something broken—something that isn’t exactly right. 

It’s a black smudge of tarnish on his golden soul, a dark cloud that blots out and swallows down his eternal warmth in the dead of night, when the wind is still and the house stops creaking and everything is stiff, stifling, silent. 

That’s normally when they begin to leak out, sharp fragments of insecurity, jagged shards of past lives, slicing his tongue to bits as they pry past his lips, desperate to make themselves known, heard, real.  

To you. 

It’s a compulsion, almost—an uncontrollable need to tell you, to let you in, to let you see all of him, every single part, even the splintered slivers that might cut your soft flesh if you wander a little too close. 

They’re pieces of him he’s never shown to anyone before, never allowed anyone to hold in their palms or turn over in their fingers for fear that they may fall into the wrong hands, terrified that they may be fashioned into something pointed and dangerous, a weapon made of himself.

To wound himself. 

In his line of work, one can never be too sure.

And even though they hurt to release, words razored as they tear up his throat, leaving it raw and burning, they feel good to let go of, too, even if only for a little while. 

They burrow themselves back within him eventually, as always, before the sun creeps over the horizon and dispels the protective veil of night. They must return to their rightful places, edges just barely dulled by your love, because as piercing and painful as they are, they’re still a part of him, too; a part of his history, a part of his life’s mosaic, bloodied and broken but his nonetheless.  

There is something faulty within him, but he doesn’t want you to fix it, or replace it, or mend it at all. He only wants you to hold it sometimes, to soothe it with your gentle voice and place it back in its proper spot with your tender hands, to accept it as it is, malfunctioning and all.