#anyone willing to fake an extreme injury to hide who they were | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clanofjones · 8 months

Text

Ghosts of Our Days: Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: Fire in a Denny's Parking Lot at Three AM

<- Chapter Twelve

A/N: Once again, co-written with @theosb0rnway! I had a lot of fun with this one!

Four Months Earlier

Taking a laser shot to the leg was not what Casey Jones had in mind when Raph suggested "a peaceful Sunday in the lair".

At first, it had been a peaceful Sunday: Crognard, splitting a pizza, then Leo came in saying Donnie had found a group of Kraang a little too close to the lair for comfort. Leo, Casey, April, and Raph suited up and headed into the tunnels to fight off the unwelcome disturbance, an easy task until they were ambushed from behind by yet another group of Kraang bots.

Before he was able to turn around, a laser hit Casey directly in the back of the leg, just above where her skate was when it was retracted.

"FUCK!" He used her hockey stick to keep from falling over, spinning around and continuing to block shots despite the searing pain from his leg. Raph noticed immediately, running over to

Casey's side and stabbing every Kraang bot he saw with his sai. Casey made a mental note to piss Raph off more, as his anger doubled at making him extremely hot, in Casey’s not so humble opinion, and the bots no longer stood any chance against him.

Within a few minutes, they were all destroyed, and Raph, not wasting any time, picked Casey up in his arms bridal style, running him back to the lair without saying a word. April and Leo looked at each other, concerned. A quiet, angry Raph would not be fun to deal with later.

In the end, Casey was fine, and in typical Casey fashion, he was ready to stand up and fight just seconds after Donnie wrapped up her leg.

"See? Look! I'm fine! Casey Jones can fight off some more evil bo- WOAH!"

Her leg gave out, sending him tumbling to the ground face first. Raph was quick to help him up, glaring at Donnie who was failing miserably at hiding his laughter.

"Casey, you're not going anywhere until this heals up! Face it, you can't do anything with this 'cept REST."

"This stinks! How am I sposed to play hockey with this? If I don't show up they'll cut me or put some other loser on as Captain while I'm gone!"

"Then I'll grab your school stuff and you can send the coach an email saying you basically can't move your whole leg for a week. I think he'll get it."

"I'll help with the excuse!" April chimed in. "I'm really good at those by now." Casey smiled and nodded.

"Thanks, Red! Any help Casey Jones can get, she'll take it!"

Was it just an excuse for April to spend time with Casey? Maybe. Was it also a way to make sure no one saw the laser mark on his leg? That was a more accurate answer, if anyone asked April why she took an hour of her day to help write one email to a hockey coach she had never met.

"That CAN'T be your coach's real last name."

"Yup! That's him!"

"Oh my god. He so got bullied in high school."

"Can't be worse than the old coach. His name was Coach Savage.”

"But Coach..." April willed herself not to burst out laughing in front of Casey. "Coach Shmuck? Seriously? That's so bad it's GOT to be fake!"

"At least he doesn't live up to his name!"

"Did the old coach?"

"Nah, he was the chillest guy I've ever seen."

"Huh."

And the conversation ended, April trying to kickstart it again several more times only to fail when Casey either nodded or fell asleep, exhausted most likely from all the pain medication and brain power she used to pull his grades up.

Since Casey was grounded to the lair, that meant April could easily help him catch up on his school work and turn his nasty Fs into shiny Bs and As. For once, things were looking up for the vigilante, despite her new injury and missing a week of the sport that could be considered her life.

When Raph suggested they spend an afternoon in bed, the older boy thought she must have been dreaming. First an A on a math test, then finding out his father would be nowhere around New York for a week, then her lover wanting to screw him senseless? Casey wondered how things ever got this good for her.

Forty minutes and one obscenely perfect love-making session later, he was still wondering the same thing until a sharp pain drew her out of his thoughts. The pain didn't come from his leg, but from Raph, still very much inside of him, jerking up every so often.

"Stop movin', will ya? I can feel you every time you do."

"Sorry. It's hard not to."

"Hard? Seriously?"

"Shut up, Jones."

"Wanna go again?"

"Maybe."

"How long you got?" Raph looked over at his broken, glitchy alarm clock and groaned.

"10 minutes."

"Shit."

"Yeah, that's not long enough." He sank back down on top of Casey, making sure he didn't accidentally hit his lover's broken leg in the process.

"Can you just... not go?"

"Case, you know Leo wants us all together for some stupid family patrol night, I can't just stay here and do nothing."

"Just tell Leo my leg's acting up and that you need to stay with me cause you're a good boyfriend! That'll work!"

"Alright... but if we go again, you're not moving this time. Don't wanna actually fuck up your leg." Casey sighed.

"Fiiiine. Text Leo first though. Don't want Fearless Leader to think you're bailing on him for no reason."

"I will, don't worry 'bout it. Just relax and hang on a minute, babe. You deserve it."

"What I DESERVE is you makin' me see stars again!"

"Then hold on for five fuckin' seconds!"

"More like five not-fuckin' seconds," Casey grumbled.

"Goddamnit, Jones! You're gonna be the death of me, I swear!" Casey just laughed.

Leo thought the excuse was the cutest thing he'd ever heard coming from the tough, strong, macho man Raphael and told him to take as long as he needed.

Oh, Raph would be taking a LONG time to do what he needed to do, and Casey Jones would not be arguing about it.

Thank the Supreme Pizza in the sky that no one else was home that night.

It was late when the rest of the gang returned, as April had offered to go in Raph's place. She walked down the hall where the bedrooms were, knocking on the door to Raph and Casey's shared bedroom.

"It's open!" She heard Raph's voice say quietly. She walked in to see them both in bed, the blanket wrapped over their bodies as Casey slept on Raph's plastron. Raph's hands were in her hair, playing with it as she let out light snores into his chest. April almost felt bad about walking in on them like this, so peaceful and clearly sharing a moment with each other, even if Casey was asleep.

"Sorry, I'll come back later-”

"You can stay, Casey's not gonna wake up any time soon. How'd it go out there?"

"Went well!" April smiled, "Pretty empty night, just a couple thieves here and there. Nothing we couldn't handle!"

"That's good to hear. Sorry about ditching, she wanted me to stay." He gestured down at the motionless vigilante.

"How is she?" April looked concerned, to her seeing Casey sleep was a sign that something was definitely wrong.

"She's doing alright, just wanted me around tonight. He hasn't slept in so long with all the shit going on topside."

"Raph-"

"Come on, April. If Splinter doesn't hear it, I don't care what I say. All that matters right now is making sure that Casey recovers." April nodded.

"Do you have to take him back up tonight?"

"No, thank fuck." He got another glare from April.

"His lousy father's out of town for a week, coincidence, so I was actually gonna bring Angel down here until he gets back. I know Casey won't wanna go back home with all this goin' on. But I can't do that right now, as you can see." He gestured to the vigilante on top of him, who he clearly did not want to disturb at any point during the night.

"Want me to go get her?"

"That would be AWESOME. Get me more good boyfriend points, and maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get another round in." He winked and April facepalmed.

"Ew! You guys are so gross sometimes!" He laughed, trying to be quiet.

"Hey, April?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't bring her in here, alright? Casey might forget she doesn't have clothes on and we don't need that." April shuddered. That was a thought she did not need in her mind. The funniest part of all was that despite her dating Casey for a month, she'd never seen him naked, or even with her shirt off. Back then, she would have loved to see it, maybe, but now that was not a good idea at all. She had Donnie, and that was good enough, right? Donnie. Donnie!

That's it!

Maybe if she introduced Angel to Donnie, Donnie and Casey might start to get along!

"Okay. I'll show her Donnie's lab, maybe he'll like her and talk to her about his experiments!"

"She's six!"

"So? Six-year-olds can like science too, Raph!"

"But not Donnie-science!" She sighed.

"I'll be back soon, alright? Tell Casey I hope she feels better."

"I will. Thanks, April."

"No problem!" She walked out and closed the door, leaving Raph to focus all his attention back on the man he loved.

"You're a mess, Casey Jones, but you're my mess. Not that I'd ever tell ya' that when you're awake."

He kissed the top of his head and moved his hand to rub slow, soft circles into her back. He wished they could stay like this forever, relaxed, happy, not being chased by villains or dealing with their respective families.

For now, he would enjoy the moment, enjoy Casey being all sprawled out under the covers, the two of them still stuck together and Raph refused to pull out or move. Life was always better with Casey Jones by his side, he thought to himself. Nothing could beat his lover, as strange as he was sometimes. That's what Raph loved most about her.

Present Day

Any evidence of Casey Jones having a pizza was gone within half an hour, the vigilante scarfing down each piece while Raph watched, his face a mix of horror, disgust, and pride. When he was done, she let out a burp that could rival Mikey’s, the younger boy cringing so hard that Casey actually noticed it.

"What?"

"The whole goal of a SECRET hideout is to keep it SECRET, Casey!"

"It was just a burp, Raph!"

"A loud one."

"No one's gonna find us, okay? The pigs have more important things to do than catch one lone vigilante who killed ONE of their guys. And the turtles don't even think it's me, they all think I'm some kinda lame imposter or somethin’!" Raph looked skeptical, but eventually, he nodded.

"You're right, but just... be careful, Casey. You know what careful means, right?" Casey scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I know what careful means, Raphie! I passed kindergarten!"

"Just makin' sure." They smiled at each other, Raph draping his arm around Casey's shoulders as they leaned in for a surprisingly not awkward couch kiss.

It was long, soft, and tasted a lot like cheese and fish, but neither cared, taking their time in another rare moment of quiet. After they broke off the kiss, that was when things got awkward. They both just sat there on the couch, bouncing their legs up and down trying to figure out what to say next or what to do next. Raph beat Casey to it, stuttering out

"S-So... uh, do you have a favorite hockey team?"

That got Casey's attention, and he was surprised in all their time together that Raph had never really asked. Casey thought he had, but then again, his memory was shit and so was her boyfriend's. If they'd had the conversation before, who's to say?

"The Vikings- my team, not the football one, duh, and uhhh... Florida Panthers!" Raph looked confused.

"Why the Florida Panthers? We live in New York!"

"Scott Mellanby, man! Ya ever heard of the Rat Trick?"

"The WHAT??" Raph knew next to nothing about hockey, but he sure knew a lot about rats from his father.

"Yeah, dude! The Rat Trick! Ah, that was a classic!"

"Casey Jones, you're a fuckin' weirdo."

"But I'm your weirdo, right Raphie?" She bumped him with his arm, causing Raph to let out a chuckle.

"Hell yeah, you are. So what's the Rat Trick anyways?" Casey paused for a second and thought, ultimately deciding it didn't need to be shared.

"...Ya' know what, you don't wanna know."

"Alright.." Raph almost sounded... disappointed? Disappointed about not hearing a hockey fact? That wasn't the Raph Casey knew!

They fell into silence again, but not as awkward this time with Casey successfully grabbing Raph's tangible hand and rubbing his thumb over the top of it. They stayed like that for a while until Casey sneezed so hard that she looked like he was headbanging. Her helmet flew all the way across the room, landing right next to the freezer.

The duo stared in stock for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Dude! That was so fuckin' loud, yo!"

"I'm surprised the wall didn't come down with that thing! You could use that as a weapon, Jones!"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! It could be the Supersonic Sneeze!" Both of them started giggling again, collapsing against one another and not letting go until Raph couldn’t hold his solid form anymore. Casey fell through his boyfriend with a thud, her face making contact with the filthy couch cushion.

"Raaaph!"

"...Goddamnit."

The rest of the night before they retired to the ice box was spent at the table with the Sudoku puzzle Casey had abandoned a few days earlier. She was finally getting the hang of it, but she still needed help with the harder numbers in the last few boxes.

"So I got 4 and 6, then 7 and 9, and 3 was easy! But I can't fuckin get 1, 2, 8, and 5! It's like they hate me or somethin', man! The numbers are out to get me! Bet if I don't solve this thing they'll call all their number friends and carry me off the ice box in my sleep like ants carryin' a piece o' bread or somethin'!"

Raph had to take a minute to recover from the laughing fit that had brought him.

"I'm serious, yo! These things are fuckin deadly!"

"They're NUMBERS, Casey, and nothing's gonna hurt you with me around! Specially not SUDOKU NUMBERS for fuck's sake-" He sighed, looking back over the four remaining numbers. 1, 2, 5, and 8. This was easy, too easy.

"8 goes next to 9, see how there's no 8 in that column?"

"Oh, yeah! That one was easy, I could've done that one!"

"1 goes right... below 7." The younger boy let Casey draw the numbers while he directed and explained.

"So then 2 goes next to 7 and 5 goes right below 2!"

"Yup! Now all there is is 1."

"RIGHT in the middle! YEAH! I DID IT!! I SCORED!!!"

"You finished the puzzle Case, you didn’t score anything."

"Yeah I did! I won, I beat it! I scored something at least!"

"Alright, cause you did so good, you've scored an extra round tonight." Raph winked at a now clueless Casey.

"'Nother round of what? Puzzles?"

"...That's it. You've been sleepin' on that thing for way too long, it's freezing away your brain cells!" Raph exclaimed, and shook his head. “Least the few ya got left.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I got plenty brain cells up here!” Casey retorted, and smacked her hand against her skull lightly for good measure.

“Hitting your head’s not gonna help!”

“I’ll hit YOUR head!” True to his word, albeit in a playful tone, Casey jumped at Raph, and both of their backs hit the ground, next to each other, staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling was a very boring thing to look at in Casey’s opinion. She decided that he’d rather look at Raph. Turning on one side, she nestled into her arms, looking at Raph, who had also turned to look at his lover. They remained like that for a good five minutes, Raph pulling Casey in for a snuggle.

“Bored?” Casey scoffed. “How could I be bored with you here?” Raph raised a non-existent eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I'm a LITTLE bored.”

“Got anything in mind?” Casey sat up, and drummed his fingers against a particularly thin part of the floor. Someone on the floor below shouted: “SHUT THE HELL UP!”

Casey pressed her face to the thinnest board. “FUCK OFF!”

The pair heard whomever had shouted being chastised by another, with a higher, accented voice, and say “Shush! You’ll get us evicted! Harris nearly dropped your Denny’s order.” That gave Casey an idea.

“That’s your idea face, Case,” Raph said. “Wanna share with the class?”

“We’re gonna bomb a Denny’s, Raphie!” Raph looked pleasantly surprised, and his face broke into a wide grin. Why a Denny's? Well when it comes to Casey's bizarre ideas of fun, Raph never wanted to ask. However, he wasn't opposed to it in the slightest.

“Now THAT sounds like fun. But we’re getting food before we blow it up. Their pancakes are great.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about those! But I’m getting whipped cream.”

“You know that the only reason I’m against that is because last time you tried to make pancakes, you put shaving cream instead of whipped cream!”

“It’s not my fault they look so similar!”

“Why would something from the BATHROOM go on food?”

“Because it wasn’t in the bathroom! It was with the plates!” Raph let out a loud cackle of a laugh, and hovered in the hair, holding the stitch in his side.

“The fuckin’ plates? The fuck?”

“I don’t know, dude! It was probably Mikey!”

Casey shrugged, barely biting back a laugh herself, as she scooped the remaining bombs into a duffel bag. “Damn, we’re gonna need more shit for the bombs. We’re running low.”

“…And you’re surprised? Half your plans have been ‘blow stuff up and see what happens’!”

Casey tossed him a look. “Nah! Didn’t blow that cop up, did I?”

“I said HALF, dumbass.” Casey rolled her eyes, and zipped up the bag, flipping his mask before catching it in his free hand as a thought struck her. “Wait, you can eat pancakes, right?”

“I can eat cold pizza,” Raph replied pointedly.

“God, you’re never letting that one go, are ya?”

“Whadda ya think?”

“Yeah, yeah, but for real, can you eat pancakes?”

“Only one way to find out, yeah?”

To an outsider, it would be a weird interaction. To have Casey, looking like she hadn’t showered in a week, because she hadn’t, in a ratty hoodie with a conspicuous duffel bag, order enough pancakes to feed the US military, half with whipped cream, and a large to-go container of fruit.

But this was customer service, after all. So, of course, the attendant didn’t bat an eyelash or blink at him like she was crazy, instead typing the egregious order in, and tell her that his order would “be out shortly.”

And, for a Denny’s in New York, at the hour of three in the morning, ‘shortly’ was actually short, relatively speaking, and fifteen minutes later, Casey Jones was staggering under the weight of an outrageous number of pancakes as a phone alarm went off.

“You’re just in time,” the attendant noted, nodding at Casey.

“That’s my shift over. Next shift’s all caught a cold, and the one after that took a group vacation to Bali. Janitorial’s gonna lock the place up, so we’d be shut ‘till about five on Thursday.” So it was probably Tuesday, in that case.

“Go to sleep,” a waitress barked from where she was wiping a table down.

“I have no car, you know that,” the attendant shot back.

“You’d have a car if you hadn’t T-boned that bus that T-bones a street light!” It took all of the very limited self-control Casey possessed to not laugh out loud as he managed to get her quarry over the threshold.

“See ya, hoodie dude!” the waitress called.

“That’s hoodie gal to ya!” Casey replied, leaning back into the establishment.

“Sorry, sorry! Hoodie GAL!” the waitress said, course correcting immediately with a grin. Casey shot a thumbs-up and swung the door shut as the attendant ducked out through a door marked “Employees Only,” exiting out the side of the building, by the dumpsters and circuitry, passing the latter, and leaning on a grey Subaru.

Through a large window, Casey watched the waitress drop the rag she’d used to clean the table with into a bucket, stick the bucket in a sink, and click the lights off. The loud ‘CLANG’ of a door indicated that she had gone out the same side door as the attendant, likely locking the doors. Casey rounded the opposite side of the building, and saw Raph tie a handful of bombs and pyrotechnics down.

“I got the goods, Raphie!” he announced, and Raph returned his wide grin.

“This side’s good, anyone still in there?”

“Nah, I was the only customer, and the two workers are driving off now.” As if on cue, Casey heard the telltale signs of the Subaru backing out of the parking lot. Raph grunted.

“I got this side and stuck some by a dumpster on the other side.”

“Imma throw some in the window!” Casey decided, delving into her bag, and retrieving more of the same. He lifted a foot, and kicked in a window. Glass spread all over the floor, and Casey heaved the explosives through the gaping hole. Diving into her pockets, she plucked out two lighters — one for himself, and one for Raph.

He handed one to the ghost, who lit up the stack of explosives in front of them, and glided through the walls to light the second. Upon her boyfriend’s return, Casey took his lighter, flicking the top off, and tossed it to the pile inside.

“We should back up.”

“Yeah, I like it when you have your face.” Casey dove behind a tree, still clutching the cakes, Raph bobbing up and down next to her.

Suddenly, the inevitable explosion rang in Casey’s ears, firey hues reflected in their surroundings, bathing her vision in orange and white. The pyrotechnics that had been added also went off, the screeching into the early morning.

Casey tracked one small rocket-like firework with his eyes, and began a mental countdown to its combustion. Exactly on cue, the trail of sparks and color erupted into a fountain of flame and light.

“This was one of your better ideas,” Raph said with a smile, and leaned a head onto Casey’s shoulder.

“Hey, I was due!”

“Shut up, I haven’t had a pancake in months, fork ‘em over.”

Casey opened up the ginormous bag of food and pulled out the first of many to-go containers filled to the brim with pancakes and a single container of whipped cream to start.

Raph snatched the first pancake off the pile as soon as Casey opened the lid, grabbing it with his ghostly fingers and dropping it into his mouth.

The flapjack fell right into Raph's teeth, but as the turtle opened his mouth again to chew, the pancake fell right through his body and onto the dirty grass below him

"So much for that idea, I can't even taste the thing- Casey?"

The vigilante was staring at the pancake like a feral animal, her eyes wide from behind the mask. "Casey, don't-"

"FIVE SECOND RULE!!"

Casey lept up and pounced on top of Raph, the turtle letting out an "OOF!" As he was thrown backwards, leaving the pancake unguarded. Casey quickly climbed off Raph and snatched up the fallen pancake, taking it back to where he was sitting, muching on it much like a squirrel would eat an acorn. Her eyes never left Raph as he scarfed down the warm, soft bread, the first hot food she'd probably had in the two months or so that he'd been on the run.

Raph let him have it, and all the other pancakes, laughing softly as Casey protected the food with her life. He understood why Casey was so protective, but as his boyfriend, he could afford the luxury of laughing as a paint covered, dirty, smelly, gap toothed, murderous vigilante ate Denny's pancakes in the woods while said restaurant was going up in flames nearby.

"Babe, we should get outta here before the police come."

Casey let out a grunt but didn't move.

"Casey, please, come on, we gotta go."

Still nothing, but at least she stopped eating the pancake this time.

"You okay, babe?"

"Want more pancakes." He grumbled.

"Alright, you can eat the rest when we get back to the apartment safely, okay? Come on, we gotta go." She nodded, falling back into silence.

Once they were farther away from the explosion and into the city part of New York City, Casey hailed a cab to take them the rest of the way home. The driver never said anything about the pancakes, the beat up looking kid in a skull mask, or the turtle in an oversized hoodie, (Casey wasn’t completely sure if Raph was visible to other people, so that was a bit of a toss-up) so it was either a pretty normal sight for him, or it was just a really fucked up Tuesday.

The apartment complex was quiet, even more so without Casey's constant talking the entire way back. It was unusual to hear her this quiet, but Raph assumed having warm food after months of chips and cold pizza was enough to make him silent. Casey never made a peep all through the pancakes, whipped cream, and even the fruit, putting all the empty containers in the bag before finally speaking again.

"Thanks for the meal, Raphie."

It was a whisper, but it sounded genuine, thankful, too soft for it to be Casey's voice.

"No problem, Case. Sorry I couldn't eat it with you."

"It's okay, but I really miss sharin' with ya'."

More uncomfortable silence.

"Rafa?" Woah, that was a nickname Casey hardly ever threw out.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can you hold me tonight, please?"

The younger boy blinked. Something was really up for Casey to be acting this strangely.

"Of course. Come on, let's get you on that ice box."

Twenty minutes later and Casey was curled up in Raph's arms, her gurgle-purr the only sound in the room.

".... Casey?"

"Hm?”

"I... I um... you know I love ya', right?”

"Mhm."

"I know I've told ya' a lot before but God, I love you, ya' idiot. I had a lotta fun tonight and I hope you know that too."

The girl hugged his boyfriend a little tighter, smiling into his chest.

"I fuckin’ love you, Casey Jones, no matter what weird shit you get into or what fucked up crimes you commit. I don't care how far you run away from me, cause you're stupid, but I'll fucking find you every goddamn time. I hope there ain't no afterlife so we can stay like this forever, even if this stupid box sucks ass. But, I wanna be on it if it means I get to be with the man AND the woman that I love."

Tears hit Raph's plastron, shocking the turtle out of his speech.

Casey was crying, the sobs getting louder and louder, her hands tighter and tighter and Raphael's waist.

"Fuck you, Raphie, I got my nice paint on tonight!" They both laughed, knowing the insult was anything but genuine, unlike what Raph had just let spill out.

"God you're such a sap sometimes!"

"Yeah well somebody had to break your silence! What was that even for, anyways?"

He paused. "It-... it was for Angel. For us. For me and you and her and all of us back when you weren't dead and she used to eat pancakes every fuckin' day for breakfast. She wouldn't stop eatin’ 'em, always said that it was 'pancakes or nothin’!. Now I'm eatin those stupid, round, hot, bread thingies all alone with my dead boyfriend who can't eat shit and my little sister who's suffering twenty minutes away from me and I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT THAT WON'T GET HER KILLED!"

She let out a low, growly scream and the tears started again. Raph didn't know what to say or how to feel, there were no good words he could give to Casey, just his actions. He rubbed his back, kissing the greasy mop of hair on top of his head until the sobbing subsided.

"Casey?"

"...Yeah?"

"I love you so fuckin’ much."

"I love YOU so fuckin’ much, Raphael Tomato."

"It's Hamato."

"Ha- Ham- Ha- oh forget it, I can't." Casey sounded sad, like goofing up Raph's name wasn't a joke or something she could control.

"Ha-ma-to." Raph sounded it out for him.

"Ha-ma-to." Raphael gasped. Casey finally got his last name right.

"That's it! Casey, you did it, you finally got my last name right!"

"I did??"

"YEAH!"

"HOLY SHIT, LET'S GO!" They shared a celebratory kiss and a forehead bump before Casey muttered: "But when we get married, I ain't takin’ that thing even if Splinter makes me."

"It's a deal. Love ya', Casey Hamato." Casey snickered.

"Love ya too, Raphael Jones."

If Raph smiled the rest of the night while Casey slept obliviously below him, no one would ever know or be able to blackmail him about it.

A/N: Be bi, bomb buildings!

#ghosts of our days #rasey #2012 casey jones #2012 raph #2012 rasey #fanfiction #ao3 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au

9 notes · View notes

lastluvbug · 4 years

Note

Your Trick Me Once and Trick Me Twice was amazing! My poor heart ached as I read it. May I request for a situation where Kalim was depressed after the events of Chapter 4;Jamil says something along the lines of "If only you hadn't exist" and Kalim decides to take drastic actions like attempting suicide? You can choose if his attempt is a success or a fail but I do want to see Jamil's reaction to the attempt though. Of course this is only if you are willing to write this. Thank you very much! :)

Toxins

Haha, you guys sure are enjoying the angsty Kalim fics! Oh well, truth be told, I am too! So let’s continue the sadness train!

Warnings: Extreme suicidal tendencies, toxic behavior, and language.

Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics.

Vermillion skies bled to dark midnight as a little twinkle on the horizon grew into a thousand stars that created shapes and pictures Kalim loved to trace with his fingers.

Twilight, the death of the day, and the birth of the night. A long time ago, it was the part he dreaded with a passion unmatched by any other. After all, when the sun set, that meant today was over, and all those precious times he’d savored were now nothing more than lightly remembered memories soon to be rewritten, or forgotten. But now... well, now that he had no one to fall back on, no one to reach out to, twilight was now the sweetest kiss he could await for, the kiss that he’d wished to feel, but for now could only see.

Caressed by the wisps of wind that held the slightest hint of spice, he leaned back onto his hands, swathed in the moonlight that seemed to spotlight only on him, on the tears that freely dripped down his cheeks like crystals, a sad smile tugging at his lips. Feet dangling over the edge of the too tall balcony, he drank the taste of night, the bittersweet flavor of the dry desert air.

Sleep had long since been a hazy concept, often coming in sporadic periods that sometimes stretched for hours, and sometimes lasted no longer than five minutes. No longer did he carefreely fall into blissful dreamland, no longer did he find comfort in the silk finery of his sheets, or the clothing that had once fit so snuggly over his already lithe body.

Stomach shrunken, fingers bony, cheeks ever so slightly caved in, Kalim had gone from so heathily full, to a frail petal on the edge of falling from its flower of life. He didn’t need to show anyone the way his ribs had replaced the muscle that used to line the bones, didn’t need to explain why he’d suddenly found nitpicking every food that was placed before him as a new hobby. Probably the worst of all, he refused to allow anyone to see the secrets he was hiding, masked with a terrifying expertise he surely shouldn’t be capable of creating.

Riddled with jagged lines that cut over his shoulders, his hips, his thighs, Kalim hid those so well, walking without a single limp, waving without a flinch, acting as if he didn’t feel the sting of reopening wounds whenever he stretched his limbs a little too far, or the dripping of crimson as sparkly as gems down tanned skin. Laughing soundlessly at the tranquil sky, he sniffled, betraying his actions as the glittery sea of bottled sadness spilled from his eyes.

What was perhaps the scariest feeling of all, was that he simply felt... nothing.

All those smiles to his friends, all those sympathetic hugs he offered to classmates in need, he didn’t feel anything through it. It was as if a switch had been turned off; the dark smothered his light, shutting out the emotions that had so clearly made Kalim, Kalim. He could laugh and cry as much as he wished, but that didn’t cover the fact that it was all... fake? Forced? Imitated?

He knew why. He wrote about it every night, in the journal he kept beneath his pillow. He dreamt about it, whenever he could manage even a glimpse of an image past the realm of sleep. He remembered it, he remembered him. His words. The ones that stabbed him in the back, in the heart he thought he could so foolishly bear to someone who’d once been so trusted.

He knew this was all because of Jamil. But he rejected any thought that came within a hundred feet of blaming him. How could he? How could he even begin to blame Jamil, after everything he’d done?

“Hey, Mr. Oblivious. Won’t you pull your head out of your ass for one goddamn second and pay attention?”

Kalim should’ve been listening better, then Jamil wouldn’t have had to tutor him on basic classes.

“Why won’t you just get out of my life? I’ve told you a million times, and I’m done repeating myself. I’m not your friend. I never have been and never will be. Now leave me alone.”

Was he being too pushy? Maybe... maybe he just needed some space.

“Kalim, get the hell out! Good for nothing leech, just get away from me!”

...How much longer can he do this?

Slow, encumbered, Kalim turned his head to the door of his room, waiting, hoping, praying that the handle would turn, and welcome in the one person he wanted to love again, despite the late, late hour. Staring at the wood, he felt numb, expecting something he knew would never happen.

Falling rather ungracefully from the balcony ledge, he dropped onto his wide bed, onto the plush mattress that was deceivingly firm underneath his back, cradling all the wrong places as his covers practically strangled him in the heat. The tears that came this time weren’t born of fear, or anger, but grief and guilt.

Maybe if he’d been more perceptive, maybe if he’d loved just a little harder, things would be different. But... didn’t it amount to anything that he’d tried? That once, Jamil had been treasured like a brother? Didn’t he care at all that Kalim was suffering?

Cuddling into the overwhelming confusion between suppressing heat and empty cold made Kalim’s head spin, and cradled by the hand of the night that so desperately urged its dimming sunshine into sleep, he felt his eyes slip shut, sinking into a slumber that was neither welcoming, nor satisfying.

<————>

Heavy and cold, shivering in warmth, dimmed in light.

Kalim curled in on himself, sleep clothing askew as he gritted his teeth, chest sinking with a fractured stabbing as he hugged his knees to his chest. Just as the nights before, sleep had brought nothing but a dreamless black that he wished he could stay trapped inside, only to awake yet again in a body that only ever seemed to work against him.

Sitting up, he grunted as his wounds burned, flames traveling through his veins as if salt had been rubbed into his cuts. Tears speckled across his eyelashes as he bit back his cry, every breath he took watering the knot that grew in his throat.

He knew then, with the sensation of cracking glass prodding at his chest, with the cloud that dampened his head, with the glaze that formed over his eyes consisting of dammed tears and bottled fear, he couldn’t do it today. He couldn’t go out and act as if everything was alright. He couldn’t smile and laugh like he’d taught himself to. Because every time, it would come out too broken, it would show the feelings he’d worked so hard to conceal.

He needed to make a trip.

Dressing himself was an especially difficult task, as any small movement made his arms scream in protest, his hips cry in red as mended injuries were pried open, his thighs burn like boiling water had been splashed over them. But, biting his cheek and gritting through it, Kalim disregarded his bodily urges to stop, pulling on his school uniform and sloppily tying his turban, slipping on his pointed shoes to complete the look.

He didn’t even note the time as he headed out, feeling unbearably heavy as he glued his gaze to the floor, wandering through the halls of Scarabia. Along the way, he caught the eye of a few students, who waved energetically. He didn’t have the strength to summon even a hint of a smile back, trudging past them as he blinked, shoving down the water that longed to rush down and cool his warm face.

Pinned with the helplessness of being alone, Kalim hesitantly made his way to the mirror portal that led back to Night Raven’s main building, freezing as he noticed who stood against the wall, cleaning the dirt from his nails. Jamil barely acknowledged Kalim until he was within reaching distance, scowling as he met the crimson eyes of the other.

Though he was tugging dangerously hard on a taut string, Kalim inhaled as he brought forth a shimmering smile, betraying the unspoken words in his eyes. “G-G—“ Kalim cleared his throat, swallowing the knot, “Good morning, Jamil! Are you on your way out? I could come with you, if you’d—“

“You’re a damn idiot if you think I want to spend even a second with you. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was waiting for someone.” Jamil clipped, crossing his arms.

“A... Ah, of course! Well, I could still stay with you as you wait for—“

“No. It’s clear they’re not coming. I should get out of here, before I waste anymore brain cells on a useless, incompetent child like you.” Jamil didn’t make eye contact as be pushed off the wall, pushing by Kalim without another word and wandering off into the labyrinth known as Scarabia.

Fists clenched tightly at his sides, Kalim stared blankly into the mirror, watching it swirl and sparkle with ethereal light as he resisted the urge to break down right then and there. He could feel as his legs quivered, on the edge of giving out as his breathing hitched, shallow and shaking.

Still, he followed the path set aside in his mind, almost missing a step as he practically fell into the portal, whisking away to the Mirror Hall.

Emerging on the otherside, he almost breathed a sigh of relief when no one was there to greet him but the dead silence of morning. Instead of bouncing off to class like he would’ve had he the stability to paint on a pretty smile like any other day, he made a sharp detour to a certain portal he never saw himself going into.

Stepping into it, he squared his shoulders, prepping himself with failing encouragements for the conversation that needed to succeed.

<————>

“Dorm head Vil. Pardon the intrusion, but you have a visitor.”

The blonde looked up from his vanity, pausing mid stroke and setting his mascara down. “Oh? Let them in, I’m not busy.” He shrugged, standing to his full height, enhanced by his heeled shoes.

“Of course,” the underclassman nodded, stepping out of the room to allow in said visitor.

Kalim felt weirdly out of place in the proper Pomefiore, despite having been raised in sumptuous royalty since birth, and setting foot into Vil’s positively sparkling room made him wince inaudibly with guilt. His bone slim fingers twitched with anxiety, a dark shade over his eyes as he stepped before the taller boy, only scarcely making visionary contact. “Good day to you, Vil,” he blandly greeted, grinding his teeth together in a smile that looked more like a grimace.

“...And to you, as well Kalim. Is there something you needed?” The white haired dorm leader shuddered, offering no explanation before pouring out the dialogue he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head.

“Well, you see... I’d like to ask you if you could make me a poison. Something fast acting, and easily hidden, that doesn’t smell too horrible.”

Vil flinched, pupils dilated and mouth agape as the request spilled from Kalim’s lips. He... wanted a what? For who? Why? “E-Excuse me? Kalim, what are you thinking?” Vil near yelled, balling his fists at his sides.

“O-Oh uh...” Kalim scratched the back of his head, feigning an awkward look as he chuckled. “It’s for educational purposes. I’ve been cooking for myself lately, and knowing me, I’m likely to accidentally poison myself!” He laughed boisterously, perceived differently by both listeners. “So I figured you’d be the one to go to, right? Unless... maybe I should’ve tried doing it on my own...” His voice trailed off, Vil’s hand on his chin, debating within himself.

Kalim popped a sad smile that didn’t appear so outwardly as Vil returned the act, a smirk falling to his painted lips as he extended a hand towards the prince. “Very well. Of course, coming to me is obviously the smartest idea someone like you could’ve come up with, but sit down first. You look absolutely atrocious.” Vil scoffed, gesturing to the seat before his vanity.

Reluctantly taking a seat, Kalim felt the insult dig deeper beneath his skin than it should’ve, crushing his hands under his thighs as he obediently followed Vil’s instructions, lips pulled into a thin line.

With momentary strokes and too gentle touches, Kalim couldn’t help but think of Jamil, seeing his gold speckled coal black hair and stony grey eyes instead of Vil’s blonde and amethyst. He used to do this too, every morning, dragging a brush dipped in black over Kalim’s thick lashes, dabbing red onto the corners of his eyes, thumb and first finger gripping his chin and tilting his head when need be.

A cold stab to his heart snapped Kalim from his short lived memories, reminding him of his purpose for coming to Pomefiore. “All done. Now that you look presentable, please, follow me.” Vil clapped, stepping away from the fellow leader and clicking off. Scrambling after him, Kalim gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly, biting his lip.

They didn’t travel too far, Kalim following closely behind Vil as he unlocked his bathroom door. Arriving in the room, Kalim toed the polished white tile, the lights fixed into the ceiling seeming to spotlight him as opposed to the beauty guru who swooped low to open the cabinets under the sink.

Inside were a number of brightly colored liquids, some transparent as water, others dotted with plant shavings or objects Kalim didn’t want to recognize. “Fast acting... sweet smelling, easily hideable, is that correct?” Vil quizzed, the twinkling of glass clacking against glass filling Kalim’s ears.

“Exactly,” he nodded into the mirror, averting his gaze quickly.

Vil didn’t reply, merely smiling devilishly before bringing out a small cauldron and three different bottles. Apprehension pulled Kalim taut as he watched the taller begin to explain his process, acetic irony making him soundlessly sneer. From poisoned to poisoner.

“On most occasions, a poison of this sort wouldn’t be possible to make, seeing as you want it to be not only quick to show results, but also pleasant-smelling. But, since you are working with the best, I believe we can make it work.” Vil boasted, uncapping and pouring the first vial into the cauldron. “This one is for the rapid dissemination,” the second, “this one for scent,” the third, “and this one for dilution, to water down the color, though still deadly.”

Kalim watched in wonder as Vil stirred the liquid, eyes wide and trained on the poison. Though at the beginning, an arrant black that made him scrunch his nose in disgust, the more Vil continued to churn, the color began bubbling with splashes of transparency. By the end, it was water-clear, and almost overpoweringly reeked of florals.

“Ah, there we are,” Vil smiled, laying a delicate hand on his cheek. Once again swooping low, he retrieved an empty bottle, ever so carefully filling it with the solution and capping it. “I haven’t made any antidote for this particular poison, so it may be in your best interest for me to hold onto it presently.” Vil cautioned, placing the ewer just out of reach while Kalim’s eyes shadowed.

“A-Are you sure? You can trust me, I’ll be careful with it!” Kalim argued, smiling wide to prove his point.

“Hm, I’m not a fool. I feel it would be for your safety if it was in my care until I create an antidote.” Vil refuted, sternly said, toying with the intricately designed cap.

Kalim chewed his tongue, clenching and unclenching his fists as he formulated a plan. Beaming a smile to Vil that seemed so outwardly innocent, he bowed slightly, showing his appreciation. “I see. Thank you for your time anyways, Vil.” He lied through his teeth, rising from his bow and bouncing off.

He didn’t risk a glance behind him as he stepped out of the senior’s room, shutting the door gingerly behind him. Scanning the gorgeously decorated hallway, he identified objects that could be used to his advantage, closing his eyes as he snapped the steps of his newly formed plan together.

Tiptoeing over to a vase that rose slightly above his head on a marble pedestal, he yanked the flowers that sprouted from the top out, tossing them on the floor as regret rooted itself into his heart. He internally apologized for what he was about to do, knowing full well that no one would hear him.

Winding his arms around the pot, his knees buckled as he dropped the weight of it in his arms, the arms that could barely lift his body mass. The water inside sloshed around, jumping onto his face as he regained his footing, tilting the porcelain prize and leading a trail of water around the corner of the hall. Repositioning himself in the indigo drapery of the curtain closest to Vil’s room, he swallowed a deep breath, hurling the expensive decoration as far as he could, cringing as the sound of shattering filled the hallway.

He hid himself in the curtain just in time, as Vil’s door burst open, slamming against the wall as he stormed out, empty handed. “What in the— Rook! Rook, go chase down Epel! That little scamp destroyed another vase, and made some pretty little prank out of it too.” Vil barked, Kalim cowering behind the curtain as the older stomped off.

“Sorry, Epel-kun,” he whispered, before creeping out from the curtain and darting back into Vil’s room.

Snatching the vial from Vil’s bathroom countertop was surprisingly easy, Kalim tucking it into his pocket as he scampered out once again, heartbeat amuck. Sneaking along the walls, he beelined away from the mess he’d created, turning a blind eye to it as he pushed open a random door in the hope that it was some sort of exit.

Instead, he welcomed himself to the Pomefiore lounge, where a handful of boys were lined up before Vil and Rook, Epel amongst them, who all twisted to stare at the invader. “Kalim? What are you still doing here?” Vil badgered, arms crossed.

“U-Uh... you see...” Kalim ducked his head in fabricated humiliation. “...I got lost... I couldn’t find the exit.” He whined, a few of the students laughing as Vil sighed.

“Rook, please escort Kalim out. I need to have a word with you lot.” The leader threateningly smiled, the laughter immediately ceasing.

“Of course, Roi de Poison! Come now, Kalim, we shall leave these heathens to their due punishments!” Rook singsonged, spinning over to the white door where he stood.

Kalim looked over to Epel, who had his face scrunched in confusion and fear, an apology spelled in his gaze that the purple haired boy only caught at the last minute, Kalim vanishing behind the door as Rook pulled it shut.

“Oh, what a tragedy! The rowdy boys of our dorm destroyed a simply magnifique vase crafted of the finest quality! On top of that, they made a mess of the hall too...” Vil’s overly extra vice leader boohooed, the flowy feather of his hat bouncing in an imaginary wind.

“Really...? Why would they do that?” Kalim asked, as if he didn’t already know they answer.

“I wish I could say. I often wonder what goes on in those spoiled little brains of theirs.” Rook replied, falling into a solemn silence Kalim relished.

The early blue sky hadn’t before been such a treat to the Scarabia dorm head, the boy thanking Rook briefly for the guidance. “Of course! Do come again!” He laughed, waving briskly and waltzing back inside the rather stuffy building.

Sneaking a victoriously pitiful smile, Kalim pulled out the stolen toxin, only holding it to the sun as he stood before the mirror portal.

It wasn’t supposed to be so easy.

A tiny part of him had wished it hadn’t been.

<————>

The school day came and went in a blur of colors, voices, and assignments that flew right past Kalim’s head.

He wasn’t fully there when he agreed to walk with Azul, the Leech twins joining not to long after. Happy conversation tied between the threads of three complementary personalities weaved around Kalim, who remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange. He was too busy twirling the stolen poison in his pocket, and had been for the whole day, debating his very existence instead of interacting with his peers as he normally would.

The quiet wasn’t overlooked by the three, though Floyd was the one to finally put voice to the thought the Octavinelle trio shared. “Hey, Sea Otter~ is something wrong? What’s with the face?” He cooed, downturned eyes for once actually bearing a dollop of sadness.

“Hm...? Oh, um—“ Kalim shook his head, pulling a smile to his face that looked more dismal than welcoming, “—of course! I’m a little tired, is all! Y’know, Trein’s lessons can put anyone to sleep, even me!” Kalim laughed, mutual discomfort shared between the Leeches as Azul fixed his glasses.

“Kalim, would you like to accompany us back to Mostro Lounge?” Azul offered, having picked up on Kalim’s abnormal behavior. “We could always use someone like you to brighten up the atmosphere.”

“Yes, Azul is right. You know how to play the drums, correct? Why don’t you pair up with Floyd? You’ll put on a show that’ll attract dozens to the Lounge.” Jade smiled, eyes shut out of joy.

For a moment, Kalim thought about it, giving them the false hope that maybe, he’d agree. He felt remorse sink its claws into his brain, making him shake his head as the three strolled by the open courtyard, a flash of red, gold, and black making Kalim freeze as he identified the person behind the Scarabian shades. “A-Actually, I had plans already,” he fibbed, stepping back to put distance between himself and the trio, “I was going to meet Jamil in the courtyard. Sorry guys.” He bowed, shoving his hand back into his pocket to fiddle with the bottle.

Azul perked an eyebrow. “Jamil wanted to meet up? With you?”

“Uh, yep! Told me this morning!” Kalim smiled, trying to wave off the suspicion that the fellow second years exuded.

“Oh? I thought that you and Sea Snake had—“ Floyd began, but Kalim was already dancing away before he could continue.

“Sorry, don’t want to keep him waiting!” He shouted, coughing after he stepped outside. It wasn’t often he had the voice to be so loud anymore.

“Should we pursue this, Azul?” Jade asked calmly, Floyd’d signature careless grin upside down in a glower.

“...No. It’s Kalim, he’ll figure it out himself. It’s about time he learned how to do so.” He coldly decided, pushing his glasses up. “Come, we have business elsewhere.”

“Of course,” both Leeches replied, though Floyd couldn’t hide the somewhat concerned look he sent over his shoulder, before disappearing with his fellow Octavinelle members.

In the courtyard, Kalim looked around confused, having been so sure that he saw Jamil walking around from the hallway. “Surely, he didn’t leave... wouldn’t I have seen it if he did?” He puzzled, approaching the stone well located in the middle of the wide yard space. He briefly caught a glimpse of his striated reflection in the impossibly dark water at the bottom, hastily breaking the contact to look up.

Through the strings attached to the wood bucket, Kalim’s maroon irises set themselves beneath the apple tree, to the person who sat so daintily upon the black-rimmed bench. With his hair brushed over his shoulder, Jamil crossed his legs, immersed in a thick book that Kalim couldn’t quite make out thanks to the gap. Sprinkled in the choppy afternoon sunlight, he looked more like an ethereal angel than the traitorous student he was to Kalim, so deceivingly beautiful.

Exhilaration, and dare he say, a spark of hope, flared in him, a genuine smile splitting his face as he sashayed closer. Believing that he had the courage to mend the bridge that had been severed from both directions, he stopped a meter from the bench, attracting Jamil’s attention, who shot him a dirty look, tearing himself from his readings.

“What is it you want now, Kalim?” He spat, holding the book up.

“I... I saw you from the hallway and I...” It was as if he’d forgotten how to speak, words working against him.

“Congratulations for using your eyes, dimwit. If you’ve come to be nothing but a stuttering fool, see to it that you leave me alone.”

Kalim squeezed his lips shut, heeding Jamil’s advice as he awkwardly looked up, to the apples that grew plentifully from the strong tree overhead.

Courage slowly being whittled down to an embarrassing pit, Kalim forced himself to smile once more, pulling his hand from his pocket. Taking a seat beside Jamil, he gripped the edge of the bench, leaning over the side to peer at the cover, and, riskily enough, Jamil’s tranquil features.

They didn’t stay tranquil for long, as grey orbs met Kalim’s enchanted red ones, scowling as he noisily slammed his book shut. “What?” He seethed.

“Nothing, I just—“ he cut himself off, unwilling to live the lie any longer, “I miss you, alright? I miss—“

“No, don’t start. Screw this, I’m leaving.” Jamil growled, tucking his book under his arm and stomping away.

“Jamil! Jamil, wait...!” Kalim called. Panicked as the vice refused to listen, he hopped up, rushing over to him and pulling on his arm, book falling to ground in a flurry of aged pages. A thunderous boom exploded in the courtyard as it collided with the ground, Jamil whipping around, arm still locked in Kalim’s grip.

“Jamil, please! I’ve tried so hard to take care of myself, but I need you!” He confessed, tears brimming. “I need your—“

“Shut up!” Jamil yelled, making Kalim flinch as he tore his arm away. Turning the tables, he spun, shoving a finger into Kalim’s chest as he grew red from anger. “What you need is to grow up! Do you understand how much you’ve hindered my life, because you just “need me so much”?” He kept shoving his first finger into Kalim’s chest, making him stumble backwards. “I wasn’t able to have a normal childhood because of you! I had to hide who I was, because of you! And now you need me? You must be a goddamn idiot, even after all this time!” Jamil accused, Kalim staggering as he tripped over himself trying to back away.

He refused to let his tears fall, Jamil continuing with his rant as his back hit the apple tree, both of them speckled in the magical light, despite the argument. “It would’ve been better if no one came to save you whenever you were kidnapped!” Kalim choked a sob, meeting Jamil’s murky eyes as the taller seized the collar of his shirt, slamming him back into the trunk of the tree.

Kalim gasped as his head thwacked against the wood, Jamil so close he could feel his uneven breathing. “If only you’d never existed.” He whispered, shoving a hatred dipped dagger into Kalim’s heart as he dropped the boy, Kalim’s legs giving out as he fell to the ground, eyes glazed and distant.

Stomping away, Jamil grabbed his book and left the courtyard, steam practically pouring from his ears as red hot anger guided his feet as far from Kalim as possible.

Dropped unceremoniously on the grass, the silvery haired dorm leader slumped over, bleak and broken as he stared to nowhere at all, shoved over the dam that had both blocked his sugary tears, and kept him from drowning in the ocean of self hatred and doubt that now had full access to Kalim’s entirety.

Numbly, Kalim picked himself up, ambling towards the school corridors once more as his eyes dried, hand reaching back into his pocket and this time, pulling out the vial within.

The clear liquid swished around, seeming so harmless in its elegant bottle.

Kalim hoped with everything he had left in him that it would be quick.

<————>

The beat of his heart had never been so loud before.

Erratic and off timed, electric volts shot throughout his hands, every pulse of blood throbbing in the tips of his toes, the center of his chest, the thin muscles of his legs. A formless noose of cold anticipation wound itself tighter around his throat, strangling the words that longed to be said from a voice that wouldn’t again speak. Tears pooled in his deep red eyes, though Kalim couldn’t fathom why, since he waited all this time just for the moment of peace that wouldn’t remain so peaceful.

Lying with his back against the end of his bed, Kalim rested his head on the firm wood, clenching the small bottle of poison Vil had specially created that morning in one fist, his journal in the other. Tilting his head to look at the moon, always a perfect circle, and always smiling down at him despite the action he was so close to making. He was tempted to smile back, but uncapping the bottle and smelling the rosy scent that wafted from it, he was reminded why it was he couldn’t.

Dropping the book inked with the thoughts he’d neither shared nor broke free from, he watched as it fell, slamming on the floor loudly and torn between pale light and shadows. Inside, a letter was tucked in the smudged pages, the last note that would be written in his swirly handwriting. He prayed that Jamil would take the time to read it, but he didn’t want to hold his breath.

Lifting the graceful vial to his lips, he felt his tears drip down his supple cheeks, for what seemed like the first time, fear dripped into his soul.

He was scared. What would be waiting for him after...? Would this really fix his wrongs? Would it... make up for what he did to Jamil?

“No,” he thought gently, pressing the glass to the plush flesh of his lips, “it’s not for you. It’s for everyone else.”

Hungry for a distraction, he looked to his door, locked for safe measures, keeping any prying intruders away. He didn’t want anyone to stop him. He needed to this, needed to make up for the years of pain he’d brought to those around him. Though, he did regret not getting a second chance to apologize to Jamil, the scuffle from before helping him realize that Jamil truly didn’t want anything to do with him. He deserved this. He earned it.

Finally, setting his dulled gaze on the moon once more, he leaned the glass up, pouring the liquid into his mouth and swallowing it in a single gulp.

It was excruciatingly bitter, burning trails down his throat as he gagged, dropping the vial as his hands squeezed his neck. The feeling didn’t stop no matter how tightly he wound his fingers around the skin, the bubbly fire spreading throughout his chest and dripping into his stomach, iron-tasting blood seeping out through his parted lips.

His vision swam with black, his body betraying him as he lost the fight in him, leaning back on the end of his bed, sitting with his legs stretched out on the floor and hands numbly dropped into his lap. It no longer felt painful as he struggled to keep his eyes open, the midnight-dark blood dribbling over his chin to settle on his clothes.

He had time for only one last thought, jumbled and lost to the winds of his mind, never to be voiced.

“I... I’m sorry... for every breath I took. I’m envious Jamil, that you had the strength to carry on for so long... Me? I couldn’t last half a year in your shoes... I’m not a fighter... I’m not even strong enough to look you in the eye. I hope—I hope this did something for you... I hope this... brings an end to your suffering.”

For a moment, he saw his life flash before his eyes. The games he used the play when he was little, the laughter he used to share with his siblings, the friends he made, the fight that cost him his best friend... they all seemed to burn away as he stared at the moon, ever the lively spirit.

But, just like a candle whose fire was blown out, he snapped, going limp in the paleness of his room.

Sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, Kalim Al-Asim took his last breath, light finally snuffed out for good.

<————>

Clomping down the corridors of Scarabia, Jamil pulled his hood over his silky braided hair, something indescribable cracking in his chest.

He hadn’t seen Kalim at dinner that evening, off putting Jamil’s behavior as he pondered over the reason behind the change. Ever since Kalim announced them as “equals,” Jamil had been rather lax with his servant duties, cooking only for himself instead of for the prince, refusing to wake him in the morning, and so on. But tonight... tonight was the first night he noticed Kalim’s absence in the mess hall.

Asking around had revealed that the white haired dorm leader had been skipping the meal for quite some time, furthering Jamil’s confusion as he followed his planned track to Kalim’s room. How long hadn’t he been eating? Was he really that afraid to ask someone else for help? The idiot.

Jamil gritted his teeth. The absence hadn’t been the only reason he was so adamant on checking Kalim.

He wanted to—and damn him for saying it— he wanted to apologize. Ever since that afternoon, when he laid hands on Kalim, he felt strange, almost guilty. Maybe it was true that Kalim was overly clingly and immature, but it wasn’t his place to hurt him the way he did. Not only that, but...

Jamil furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at nothing in particular as he tried to assemble a puzzle that was missing far too many pieces. The gnawing in his stomach continued as he trudged down the hall, bringing a fist to his cheek as he nibbled on his lower lip.

Kalim had been so... thin. Like all the muscle on his body had just melted off, leaving skin and bones as replacement. Before the overblot, Kalim had been almost neck-and-neck with Jamil when it came to physique, always healthily svelte, while the dark haired servant became more toned thanks to the dirty work he often found himself in. But now—now Jamil could only describe Kalim as frail, dangerously near skeletal.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jamil tried and failed to remember how easy it had been to slam Kalim into the wall, to pin him using barely an ounce of his strength. The usually cheery boy’s helpless face flashed in the darkness, stained with tear tracks and shock as Jamil walked off, not even a glance over his shoulder to accompany him.

How long had it been since Kalim properly took care of himself?

“Doesn’t matter,” Jamil clucked quietly, reopening his eyes to see that the end of the hall, and the door leading to the grand bedroom, was closely approaching, “I’ll just get him to tell me. He’ll be back to the old Kalim in no time. Idiots never change, after all.” He quipped, though the tremor in his voice sounded more like a timid reassurance than a witty remark.

Stopping a few inches from the door, Jamil bit his tongue, debating what he was trying to say as he pulled his hood down. Cautiously bringing his hand to the door, he faltered for a split second, as if in fear the wood would reach out and bite him. Three quick short knocks bounced off the hall walls, magnified in Jamil’s ears as he was met with silence. “Kalim, it’s Jamil. Can I—I come in?” He stuttured, surprising himself.

When, yet again, late night quiet was his response, he felt the need to double over, uneasiness eating his gut. Knocking again, Jamil placed his ear on the door, listening for the rustle of clothing, or the scuff of shoes on stone. “Kalim?” He tried, hand slithering down to the brass knob. “Kalim, answer me or I’m coming in.”

Still nothing.

Dread coiling in his core, his arms stiffened as he turned the handle, finding it firmly held in place. Frantically jiggling it, he used a shoulder to push at the wood, feeling it give way ever so slightly. “Last warning, or I’m busting in, Kalim. Open the door.” He deadpanned, taking a step back.

The third round of the silent treatment sent Jamil over the edge, the vice shaking out his hands before balling them, running shoulder first into the door. It swelled, before dropping back in the same place, Jamil repeating the process over and over until his shoulder was decorated in a blossoming bruise and there was a hole just big enough for him to weasel his hands through.

Wincing at the sting in his skin, Jamil pushed his hand through the cracked wooden hole, maneuvering his arm so that he could reach the lock from the handle. Twisting it, a satisfying click rendered the door openable, Jamil yanking his scratched arm from the door panel.

“Alright, Kalim, was that necessary? I understand that I—!” Jamil froze as he swung the door open, letting a swath of light from the hall slip into the dorm leader’s exquisite room.

His heart skipped a beat as his blood chilled, eyes stretching impossibly wide while the air fueling his lungs seemed to be syphoned out of him.

There, just barely discernible from the dark, Kalim sat motionlessly. His eyes were sealed with his thick lashes, mouth parted as blood dribbled down to the neck of his clothes. He lie still, propped up by the bedside, a transparent purple vial close by, glinting in the light.

One moment... two moments... three, until Jamil shrieked out Kalim’s name, throwing the door completely open and rushing inside.

Sliding and dropping to his knees before the body, Jamil softly lifting him into his embrace as he called for anyone to come help, to come save what had clearly been lost.

“Kalim... Kalim, wake up...! I know you’re stronger than this! Get up, move, do something! Please, please wake up...!” Jamil cried, brushing the hair away from his forehead. “I-I’m sorry I pushed you earlier... I’m sorry I l-left you alone for so long. I... I didn’t mean what I said, you know I didn’t! I’m sorry, I’m sorry but please, just open your eyes... laugh one more time. Smile...? Anything... just... wake up...”

Nothing. Kalim was cold, and not a single breath heaved from his bony chest.

“Somebody help me!” The plea was cracked, echoeing about as Jamil suppressed tears, tears that shouldn’t even exist.

He asked for this. Every damn night, he asked for this. He wished with every part of what he was for Kalim to be kidnapped, for him to shunned, for him to rot in a ditch. He hated Kalim—no, he despised him.

So why the hell did it hurt so much?

Why did every look at his pale face stab his heart in a way watching an abused puppy limp did? Why did he care that Kalim was feather light, that it felt as if he was holding a pile of bones rather than a person? Why were there tears dripping from his hatred powered eyes?

Trembling with the force of fear, disbelief, and stigma, Jamil’s ears didn’t recognize the orchestra of shouts and gasps that rang out behind him as Scarabia students acted upon his words, calling for teachers and help alike. He didn’t realize just how many tears slid from his face to Kalim’s bloodied clothes, soaking the fabric. He could only stare numbly at Kalim’s once so buoyant features, at the eyes that would never again light up with joy whenever Jamil entered the room. At the cheeks that would never again heat up in a blush that was the product of his profuse smiling. At the lips that would never, ever utter a single syllable, or pull into a grin that made even the sun look like a busted light bulb.

Moreso than that... Jamil heaved breathy sobs at the discoveries he made hidden all over Kalim’s body. His arms, mutilated with self inflicted wounds that never properly healed. His torso, tenuous and more bone than skin. He wouldn’t let himself go any further, already shaken to the core by the sick scavenger hunt.

The tears felt hollow and empty, painfully slow in their race to his jaw, grip crushing on Kalim’s shoulders.

He fought with a vigor that put three boys in the infirmary when help finally arrived, Kalim being wrestled away from his protective grasp and off to who knows where. He didn’t settle down until Kalim was carried off somewhere, far outside of Jamil’s view, and was left with the worthless consolation from people he didn’t care to see.

The only thing that ran through his head was the fact that he’d been the cause of this. That he was the one who pushed Kalim too far. That it should’ve been him to die instead.

Hours later, Jamil slept in Kalim’s now unoccupied room, stumbling upon a certain bound journal that just begged to be explored.

<————>

Why was it that the saddest moments always happened on sunny days? Was it the sun laughing at the earth’s struggles? Was it nature’s way of trying to ease the pain?

Jamil had no response for his questions, dressed in his formal wear as he stared somberly down at the glass casket, the temporary bed for Kalim’s lifeless body. Today would be the last day he ever saw him, as in less than an hour, Kalim’s family would be arriving to take their brother, their cousin, their son, home.

“Hey Kalim...” Jamil muttered, kneeling before the casket. “I, uh... I wanted to say goodbye, one last time. You’ll be with your family now, they’re taking you back to the Land of Hot Sands, where you’ll get a proper burial.” He said, studying Kalim’s blissfully expressionless face.

It was so strange, seeing him so calm. It looked like he was sleeping, like he could wake at any moment and pull Jamil into a hug that he would reciprocate with all of his strength, had he the opportunity.

“It’s not fair...” He whispered as a ray of light painted over Kalim, making his white tuxedo almost blinding. “Even in the afterlife, everything about you is so... so happy. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun shining on the horizon, it seems fitting. You were always... the sun to my moon.” Jamil admitted, a realization striking him like a lightning bolt.

“Oh, I um... I read this last night,” Jamil held up the black journal he’d found in Kalim’s room, “Kalim, why did you keep yourself hidden like that? You didn’t have to—you know you didn’t have to! You shouldn’t have done this to yourself, because of me. You should’ve... should’ve...”

Should’ve what? It wasn’t Kalim’s fault he felt that way... it was his. Jamil knew that.

“I know it’s a little—no, very, very late, but I... I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Those words don’t mean anything now that you can’t even hear me, but I need to say them. I need you to know that I’m sorry...!” He felt his eyes damped, and using the back of his hand, he wiped away the water that hadn’t even spilled yet. “Kalim, you were right, okay?! You were right! You may have needed me, but I needed you more! You gave me my freedom, even after I threw you to your death! I had so much pent up anger, I didn’t... didn’t know what to do with it!”

The dawning of the truth set Jamil’s waterworks into action, a pretty blush darkening his cheeks as his shattered weeping rose into the air. This was it. Kalim would never smile, laugh, speak again. Never. He wouldn’t ride a magic carpet, or sit on the balcony of the lounge, or even take another breath.

He was gone.

Undeniably, irrevocably, gone.

Sniffling, Jamil placed the journal in Kalim’s hands, having written his own letter inside. “I figured, your family deserved to see your last words. And my apology. There’s not much left for me to say... but thank you. You were never in the wrong, it was me. Thank you, for being so forgiving, even in my darkest hours. Thank you, for staying by my side. Thank you, Kalim, for being the brother I didn’t realize I needed.”

Standing, Jamil leaned over Kalim, the one he took for granted. Sliding his hand over his eyelids, he bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, the way he did when they were little. “Goodbye.” He breathed, before parting ways, beads of saltwater still trickling down as he trekked off, fists balled tightly at his sides.

<————>

Dear Kalim,

I’ve had little time to ponder over your passing. Over the very certitude that you’re not here anymore. But in that little time, I’ve arrived at a single conclusion, that can’t begin to express my emotions.

I said I hated you. I said I wished you’d never existed. I said I wanted you out of my life. And, I used to mean those words. I used to believe that if you one day disappeared, everything wrong with me would suddenly right itself, that you were the source of my suffering.

But... only now, when you’ve really departed, do I see that I was so incurably mistaken.

I was the cause of your pain, as once upon a time, I thought you to be mine. I’m the fool, for having ignored you for so long. I’m the fool, for pushing you beyond your limits. I’m the fool, for pretending to hate you, even as I myself, was at the mercy of your charms.

When we were young, I treasured you like family. We fought like siblings do, we laughed as brothers, we grew as a pair. It’s impossible to set a specific date, but somewhere along the way, something changed. Suddenly, you were no longer my brother. Suddenly, you were my rival, my enemy that I could never escape.

I know the penmanship of my woes could never bring you back, I am painfully aware of that. I am beside myself that it took your death for me to grasp that the reason I never left your side was because I didn’t hate you.

I never left you, because I was afraid.

I was afraid that you’d lose the need for me. I was afraid that you’d leave me behind. Moreover, I was terrified of losing you, like I have now.

That smile of yours, the one that never ends, and never fails to bring laughter to even the coldest of hearts, that was what I wanted to preserve. That was what I wanted you to keep, if nothing else.

I’m truly sorry, sorry beyond what words can say.

I pray that one day, you’ll smile again. It’s far too late for me now, but I want you to know that you were my best friend, Kalim Al-Asim.

You were what I strived to be.

I just wished I had the gall to admit it sooner.

Written truthfully,

Jamil Viper

Yet another request finished! Thank you @etervenislucifen for the ask!

I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!

Stay lovely!!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #kalim al asim #twst #angst #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech

135 notes · View notes

chidoroki · 4 years

Text

TPN ch176

(spoilers! i'm crying and full of anxiety)

I'm gonna tell y'all now to take a deep breath because.. wow and damn.

The wait is finally over. After all the struggles and preparation our escapees went through the past two years, we finally get the Phil reunion we've all been waiting for. This hug alone is enough to make me start tearing up. Their smiles are so precious. (damn it girl, don't toss your gun aside like that aahh)

Phil then learns that Norman is actually alive and he's so relieved. Then we even get Ray apologizing to him. He knows exactly what Phil went through because he was in the same scenario before the jailbreak. Both of them had to carry the burden of knowing the truth about the farms and stay quiet. They had to hide their true emotions when friends were shipped out and perfect a fake smile in order to wave off any suspicion from their caretakers.

Seeing Ray hug him like this means so much. I'm so proud of how strong Phil has become during the long wait and now he can finally put his guard down and let his emotions out.. and just be a normal kid. His family has come back for him like they promised and it warms my heart.

Thankfully Isabella steps in and fills the mom of this plantation about the current situation. How they're all free and can finally love these children normally. It's moments like this that remind me how bad this world is for humans. Literally none of them are truly evil, (unless you're peter) they just valued their own lives so much that they were willing to accept whatever role was given to them in order to stay alive, no matter how harsh.

And these flashbacks.. oh they hurt. They really put into perspective how much these kids have gone through. Not just the Grace Field kids, but literally every child has gone through hell. It doesn't matter how extreme or different their experiences might be. What's important is that they all stuck together, never gave up and now they're all free. They can finally live a life without fear.

The journey was rough and unfortunately they suffered a handful of loses. Yuugo, Lucas, Conny, Olivia, Michelle and the kids who were killed by Andrew. While we, as readers, might not have seen much of certain characters, having Emma here think about each one of them further proves how special everyone is to her, how important it is to value life itself and that one should cherish those that they have in their own lives. Their deaths stressed Emma out to the point of her doubting her abilities, overthinking her actions and straight up scaring her, but she stayed strong and worked so very hard in order to achieve the bright future they all deserved. That crazy dream she had of changing the world has become reality and I'm so proud of her for never giving up or losing hope.

And then the chapter decides, nope, you've all been happy for way too long. Let's change that. Here, have a demon!

And then all hell breaks lose. The children scatter, completely terrified about the sudden appearance of this monster. After all, these cattle children believed this was just an innocent and safe orphanage. This creature shouldn't be real. (glad you finally realized your mistake emma but please hurry!)

As expected, Emma doesn't hesitate as she rushes in to protect the kids. Doesn't even matter that she never met this young girl before, our mc will simply not let another person die! Especially not when they're all so close to freedom. Thankfully Ray, who's just as protective and alert as ever, never dropped his guard and is quick to draw his weapon at the demon. Unfortunately.. that wasn't enough because.. god DAMN IT!!

I knew things were going far too well for the kids recently. I swear I just knew something horrible was bound to happen sooner or later.. but not something like this! Fuck! Kudos to Shirai-san for always keeping me on the edge of my seat throughout this entire series with fantastic twists but damn, you didn't have to hurt my heart like this! I'm legit crying here. This is certainly not a "like daughter, like mother" moment I would have ever wanted to see because this gives me major Goldy Pond flashbacks! Emma was able to survive being stabbed by Lewis not only because she's the mc and has strong plot armor by default, but because Ray knew exactly who in their family she could undergo a blood transfusion with and that Yuugo was quick enough to get her back to the B06-32 shelter in time and use the machine the shelter so conveniently had.

I've come to love Isabella so much that these panels literally makes me anxious. I want her to live so badly. If anyone deserves to live happily it's her simply because of how long she's been a victim of the farm system. She was lucky once already back when Peter spared her life so she could become the new Grandma after Sarah was harvested in her place. Sadly, I don't think she has that kind of plot armor right now. Can we get Zack and Anna over here now please? Or cauterize the blood vessels maybe to stop the bleeding at least like Ray once did to Emma? Because I doubt we're gonna find a blood transfusion machine anywhere close by or even know who's able to give her blood. I don't know how else to save her but that wound looks real bad and needs to be treated, like now! It's Mother's Day for god sake, let this wonderful woman live please! I know the typical neverland story has kids who don't grow up so therefore there's no adults, but come on Shirai-san, can you let us have just one??

Aahh, how will the kids react? This isn't a pretty sight in the slightest. No doubt they'll be mentally scarred. The other sisters and moms must be super worried as well. But Emma? Emma will surely be hard on herself. Whether or not Isabella dies from this, Emma will probably blame her reckless actions for causing her family pain, like she's done with past injuries and deaths. She works so hard to keep her family safe. She would never want someone to sacrifice their life for hers. (if they want to show me feral emma again like we got in goldy pond then please, i'll take it, let her kill once more.) And Ray? Oh god..

That's his actual mother! It doesn't matter that he and Isabella were on bad terms up until very recently, he made the effort to forgive her and now holds no grudge against her. He even helped persuade her to continue on living and join him and the rest of the kids in the human world. I imagine it would upset him deeply knowing that he possibly ruined that bright future for her, as he would most likely blame himself for not shooting quick enough or his shot missing the demon's eye/core (you can see how close he actually was too). He's been very protective of his family ever since he made that promise to Emma back in the demon forest the morning after they escaped GF. He get furious whenever someone he cares about gets hurt or killed, especially when could've done something to prevent it, as we've seen that several times already. I can totally see him killing this demon no problem.. once he gets over the shock of Isabella being stabbed. (if not can we get ayshe over here please? she apparently never misses a shot)

I was happy that Isabella and Ray spoke a couple chapters ago but still wished their chat went a bit longer, or hoped that they'll have another opportunity to talk.. but not if she's on her deathbed! This isn't remotely close to anything I had expected. Like I wanted them to actually make up and hug and maybe reveal to the others like, "yeah this is actually my real mother," and see their reactions.. but not like this! I don't want a heartbreaking conversation darn it! (if this is the end for isabella and we get ray singing the lullaby to her as she's dying, then that's it. saddest damn manga/anime death i have ever witnessed and i swear i'll cry over it for the rest of my life.)

Aaah god, I'm so very worried. Y'all better go hug your mothers today.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #tpn phil #tpn emma #tpn isabella #tpn ray #phil #emma #mother isabella #ray #chidoroki used chatter

67 notes · View notes

infinitesimal-grey · 5 years

Text

Sold.

Borrower!Virgil Angst

Virgil finds himself for sale at a high class black market auction. I wrote this a while ago and I thought I'd post it as a one shot. I have more planned for it, but I don't know if I should continue. So why not post it here and see if it catches any of yall's interest?

...

Word count: 1,707

Warnings: fear, borrower treated as an object/pet, brief nondescript mention of injury and a needle, general angst and panic, feeling of helplessness

...

Virgil wasn’t one to get scared easily, but god damn. Right about now called for a good old dose of sheer fucking terror.

Jolted awake by outside forces to utter darkness, Virgi’s chest heaved. Even being used to the darkness of the walls wouldn’t assist him when not even a ray of ambient light shone into… Where was he? All that he could remember was meeting a new borrower back at his apartment. Then letting the borrower lead him to where they said there was a stash of open cereal... The pitiful look the borrower gave him as they walked into the cabinet.. Then suddenly faceless, monstrous humans were grabbing at him; squeezing until Virgil was too weak to fight. The stinging burn of a needle threw him fast into unconsciousness. He felt his arm gingerly for the needle wound. It responded to his fingers with a sting.

Spurred on by this troubling memory, Virgil pushed out blindly. His shaky hands were met by cool metal bars. Feeling around, his dread grew. A cage. He was in what felt like a miniature birdcage, minus the perch bar. By threading his fingers through the bars he uneasily hoisted himself to his feet, only to hit his head on the ill-sized dome roof. Feeling his breath quicken, he pulled at his throat. His fingers wrapped around a tie that certainly wasn’t there when he was knocked out. Virgil pulled it off and held it up, trying to inspect it. But to no avail, the cage was simply too dark to see something even a few millimeters away. Disgusted, he threw it into the inky dark. The soft sound of it hitting the bars gave him no satisfaction.

Patting himself down Virgil found that their clothes had been replaced with a crisp suit. It even had a fake rose boutonniere pinned to the pocket. He unclipped the rose and took it into hand. It felt too well-sewn to be made by a human, and there was no way a human could have buttoned the white undershirt he wore. That only left one possibility, one that left Virgil with a permanent grimace.

‘That damn borrower betrayed his own kind!’ Virgil cursed under his breath, ‘I should've known better than to trust him!’ The hand holding the rose crushed the flower in a white-knuckled fist and Virgil discarded that as well.

‘Well then. Might as well try to find out what kind of shitshow I've gotten myself into now.’ Virgil slipped his arm between the bars, jamming his shoulder in so that he could have as much reach as possible. Searching fingers were at first met with nothing but a smooth, slightly cold floor. If he reached out far enough his fingers could brush against a flat wall of the same material. Exploring the floor, he brushed against something soft and flinched back slightly. The borrower let his hand feel around it before realizing the fabric was comfortingly familiar. It was his clothes! Not wasting any more time he pulled the bundle up to the bars before realizing it was simply too big to fit. The clothes seemed to be secured into the bundle by a thick plastic band, likely a zip tie. No matter how the borrower pulled at the exposed fabric, it was no use. He was too weak. Virgil gave up with a growl and pulled away, collapsing heavily against the bars behind him and not even caring that it hurt his arm to do so. He hugged his knees close while tears he’d never let himself shed burned in his eyes.

///

The sound of giants moving about grew around him, pushing Virgil into a nervous alertness. Thunderous voices overlapped and mottled together to where there was no telling how many there were. But it was certainly more of those bastards than Virgil was willing to put up with. A low growl escaped Virgil’s throat as his box was picked up. He shakily pulled himself to his feet as the human’s careless movements swayed the box nauseatingly. But just as Virgil had both feet on the ground the box was set down just as carelessly, throwing Virgil into the cold hard bars. A burst of pain exploded from his shoulder and the borrower winced. ‘That’ll leave a mark,’ He held the shoulder lightly, grimacing.

Still determined to be ready, Virgil stood as straight as possible; wary of the low roof. The din of humans around him quieted eerily as he stood, making his pounding heartbeat all the more deafening. He held a hand against his eyes as light flooded from above. In the short time that he was blinded a hand managed to grab the cage from a hook at the top and Virgil was brought into the chilly open air. While a break from the stale air inside the box was nice, he’d gladly go back to it in a heartbeat when he saw what was awaiting him outside.

There were tables full of masked humans, each dressed in extravagant clothing that would make them look regal if not for the eery dim lighting and silence that blanketed the audience. Many pulled out some type of binocular for a closer look… at him.

In fact, each one had their beady eyes fixed on Virgil.

Even with the suit Virgil felt as if he were naked. Undressed and dissected by a million greedy scalpels. He bared his teeth and a few of the vulture-like socialites in the front murmured about his pointed canines.

Virgil adjusted his footing as the cage was set down on a black pedestal by the sunglasses wearing giant carrying him. A huge black box was placed in front of him. Virgil might have recognized it as a camera if not for the fear clawing inside his head. Its strange glass eye gaped at him, a red light blinked on at the top of the box. More light flared on above him, and Virgil looked back to see three planet sized TV screens displaying him off like taunting mirrors. The bright gold of his ornate cage glimmered and contrasted with his crisp black suit.

He growled with his teeth bared. The audience gasped and murmured as the screens mimicked him on an exponential scale. Seeing this as the morbidly wonderful opportunity it was, Virgil turned to the camera. And promptly, he flipped everyone watching the bird. Several gasps and louder murmurs came from the crowd. Some even half laughed at his audacity.

Thwak. Virgil jumped as a human hit his cage, hard. As soon as he recovered from slamming into the bars in front of him Virgil whipped back and glared up at the stoic, black suited giant. He could see himself reflected in the black shades they wore. Virgil tried to keep his callous composure. But seeing his reflection hit him hard. He looked so small. Weak. Helpless… He had to look away.

Virgil backed up from the lens as much as he could, he only succeeded in getting an inch away before he was stopped by the bars behind him. He hugged himself and tried to hide away from the nightmarish camera lens.

Thwak. The guard flicked his back against the cage. Virgil was sent forward, air knocked out of him as he hit the cold metal floor. He pushed himself to his feet and shot a scathing glare at the guard in anger.

The guard didn't even glance down. The borrower glared back at the crowd.

Virgil couldn’t do anything to stop this. To stop them. He didn’t even know who they were. Or what they wanted for that matter. For all Virgil knew he could be killed at any moment for this audiences’ amusement. Unfortunately his questions were soon answered.

“Item number 27. A male of an extremely rare species with unknown origin. Responds to a given name and a perfect pet for someone looking for something no one else will have. An ideal specimen for any collection.” A monotone voice sounded out from behind Virgil. The guard had been replaced by a gaudy looking man with a gothic black mask consuming the upper half of his face. The suit was tailored to his grossly thin body and it gave him a ghastly appearance that suited his beady, dead stare. Virgil’s hands went white knuckled at his sides as he processed what the man was saying. Item, given name, pet, specimen, collection?

He was for sale.

Virgil’s eyes burned and his fingers dug at his already bruising sides. But he would not cry. They already had his body, there was no way he’d give them the satisfaction of watching him break. Not here, not now, not ever.

“Starting bid is quarter million.” The crowd shifted to raise their hands to bid. The lanky man listed increasingly incredulous amounts of money, greedily coaxing the captivated audience into raising the number. “800, can I get an 950? 1 mill?” Virgil closed his eyes and tried to drown out the growing din of the crowd, his chest drew each breath shakily and unevenly. “1.4? 1.4!” He bit down on his lip with his fangs. Something wet filled his mouth and some part of him registered the tang of blood. But he couldn't move.

“1.8 million! Anyone going for 2 million? You sir! 2 million! Going once!”

Virgil clamped his hands over his ears as the entire room grew in volume.

“Going Twice!”

Virgil wished the earth would just open up and swallow him whole.

“SOLD! To the gentleman with the red mask!” The auctioneer’s face split into a nightmarish facsimile of a smile.

In less than 60 seconds, Virgil was bought.

The first guard with sunglasses reappeared and plucked the cage up off the podium, disinterestedly putting it back into its place in the black box. Virgil hissed and growled at the careless handling, not stopping until the lid was replaced completely. Stifling dark blanketed him once again.

Virgil gave up then, blocking out all of the outside world from his thoughts. Collapsing against the bars, he let his tears drip silently. He numbly pulled at the suit’s cheap cuffs. Eventually, despite fighting it, a dreamless sleep claimed the exhausted borrower.

...

I have a whole AU for this, involving eventual Prinxiety and other sides as humans. I don't know if the prinxiety will end up romantic or platonic.

Basically Roman is a privileged jerk that gets stuck taking care of Virgil as a pet. Virgil is done with his shit TM. I plan for Roman to come around eventually but he's mostly going to be a dick/careless tiny owner. Lots of angst and fearplay. (Borrowers aren't general knowledge in the au) Feel free to send in asks about this au.

Please reblog/like if you enjoyed this fanfic, it would mean the world to me !

Tag list-

Check my reblog for new chapter!

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #borrower!virgil #infinitesimal sides #infinitesimal!sides #roman sanders #borrower sanders sides #sanders sides borrower au #borrower au #sanders sides fanfic #prinxiety #sanders sides angst #virgil sanders angst #thomas sanders

291 notes · View notes