Scar had quit his job to pursue his lifelong dream of opening his own bakery business. He’s spent a long boring decade working multiple jobs just to be able to afford at least a small lot in a slightly isolated alley. Although not the best place for foot traffic, it was a step forward to the dream.
He’s got all the basics down; the place, the decorations, some employees, and Cub kindly paid for the supplies needed until Scar eventually pays him back. However, the issue is now that almost no one knows about the shop. He has little to no experience in advertising other than going around giving flyers to everyone on the streets.
That is until a little tired media worker by the name of Mumbo Jumbo stumbles into his shop like a gift from the heavens.
“Have a great day! Hope to see you back again!”
The bell above the glass door jingles as the customer leaves without much of a second glance or goodbye to Scar, a paper bag of croissants in one hand with their phone on the other. Scar watches on through the window as they leave and waits until the customer completely disappears out of view before slumping over the counter with a solemn sigh. There was no need to upkeep a customer service smile when there was no customer to service.
“Slow day today, huh?” Pearl comes up beside him, copying his pose and leaning her elbows on the counter as she chews on a cookie from the reject batches they had. Considering that almost no one was around in the shop, maybe everything on display could be counted as rejected batches. Free real estate for hungry employees.
Which is really… only one person.
Scar’s face scrunches up from frustration, “It’s slow everyday!” He leaned back and groaned, “I mean, better than a <i> nothing </i> day, but it’s still depressing to work in these circumstances.”
Pearl smiles sheepishly, “It’ll get better, Scar. We’re just on our second week of opening!” Even as she reassures him, Scar doesn’t feel any greater, though he does feel a little lighter when he realizes that Pearl isn’t completely as disappointed as he was. He can’t tell if he’d feel more comforted or scared at the idea of Pearl agreeing with him about the business not starting off great.
The crown prince often makes regrettable mistakes. Unfortunately, he is prideful and curious enough to often commit to them. From escaping the palace to stealing from his own people…
All for curiosity’s sake, of course.
However, did curiosity always have such a tall stature and nervous demeanor?
<i> Grian Moon, this is the worst idea you’ve ever thought of second after the time you set Marquess Hills’ garden on fire. </i>
The plaza was bustling with both commoners and lower rank nobles alike. Some busy haggling with the vendors on the side of the streets, some busking for attention and spare change, and others keeping to their carriages as they pass through; the click-clacks of their horses clicking loudly enough against the stone road to basically announce ‘Hey! Rich nobles who can afford personal transportation here!’
It was all kinds of people mixed in this one spot and mostly this one spot only. The center of it all branches out to separate streets where the gap in financial status starts getting more evident there.
The carriages go in and out through the specific streets that hold all of the more expensive stores. Designer dresses, jewelry shops, all the symbols of luxury that most would dream to afford no matter how ugly or unnecessary some of the items can be. But not being able to buy anything there is not all that bad, the rest of the streets that aren’t like it have every necessity one person could have to live comfortably but not luxuriously.
For those born with a silver spoon in their mouths, they care a lot about status to go where they should go.
For someone like Grian, he does not care. At this point, he is the silver spoon itself.
This is the first ever time he’s ever been outside-outside. Not just the outer town past the first walls of the palace; the community that expanded outside the second set of walls. Seriously, did they really need that many walls around the palace? It was hard enough to sneak through the residential area without getting dragged back to his room.
Compared to the inner town, the outer town was a lot more crowded. Grian had to stand by the central fountain to save himself some fresh air that wasn’t completely polluted with noise and mixed breaths. He feels like the people here have touched him more than his family has, and the royal family was supposed to be very particular about their distance to their subjects, even going as far as to look down upon physical touch.
<i> But, </i> Grian tugs down his hood further over his face, shadowing the badly suppressed look of excitement shown upon it, <i> I’m not royal now, am I? </i>
He fidgets with his stolen cloak once more, ensuring it covers him enough yet not too much to look suspicious. It was a good thing that Pearl still had this thing hidden in her closet. She may keep claiming to not find sneaking out a good idea, but Grian knows she’s not that innocent about it. Rebellion has always been in their genes.
Not that it’s the worst thing ever, it did allow Grian to have undercover clothes of his own without having to ask for some that could arouse suspicion.
He takes one look around the plaza one more time before fishing out Scar’s given map to help him decide his first adventure, only to find himself cringing at the way that some of the ‘landmarks’ were named.
The parchment crumples slightly as he continues to read it out, “Pretty kitty spotted here…? Scary bam boom pow club, building that goes ring-a-ding-a-ding?!” He quietly yells to himself as he rereads that over and over again like he couldn’t trust that he read it right, “What does that even mean?!”
He spreads at the map further and rotates it in all angles possible, occasionally looking up from the map for further reference of where he is. Grian hums doubtfully as he decides to just trust the landmarks that are sensible enough to understand, “Bakery should be… easy enough.”
Grian keeps his eyes on the map as he turns his body to the direction where he thinks it’s supposed to go. He looks up with hope that he could finally start somewhere, only to find no street that even leads to the bakeshop Scar is indicating on his map. It was just a wall teeming with wall vines and built up dirt.
The crown prince feels his eye twitch.
“STUPID MAP!” Grian startles the kids throwing wishing coins nearby, their faces either scared or concerned. He angrily crumples the map midway through shoving it back to the cloak’s inner pockets. He exaggerates a deep breath before sighing in defeat.
“This is…. Fine! It’s my kingdom, I <i> should </i> be able to know this by heart,” if he’s ever visited it at all, but his optimism doesn’t need to know that.
Grian looks over to the emptier street just a little ways beside where the supposed ‘Bakery’ is. He doesn’t allow himself to overthink it as he begins to take his next steps forward, gripping his cloak close to himself as he blends with the crowd.
I can’t distinguish canon from what other people have written at this point so canonically where is sk!etho rn? Like did he ever get out? And if so what happened?
hes not out
whatever theyre written as in the scarlet quill info strawpage is their canon status kinda
Check Up
-------
"I heard you've got a new plant? Another azalea?"
Etho's gaze transferred from his line of pots to the probation officer. Tango beamed at him, his expression bright and comforting despite the dreadful eyebags under his eyes that would've made him look like a ghoul if it weren't for his smile.
Etho smiled back, "A gift, yeah." He cradles the pot of the new azalea starter into his arms, "I named her BBB."
"BBB? Is it an acronym for something?" Tango probed. It was an unusual name for an azalea plant, after all. But Etho only shrugged in response, eyes lidded as he stared down at the barely grown shrub thoughtfully, "I just like the letter enough to put it thrice."
"Cute letter, right? B. Bee. Belly. Best." Etho then trails off into a wide smile followed by a weird giggle, his eyes glancing elsewhere like he was embarrassed about something. Tango fights back a shiver at the sight. He almost wanted to tell the other that he felt less creepier with the mask on.
He gave Etho a concerned stare and pursed his lips. For the sake of his sanity, he didn't elevate the topic further, "...Yeaahh. Let's just say yeah."
The officer shoves his hands in his pockets and looked around more, wasting no time to once again tour around Etho's home despite having been there more than once already. Etho doesn't stop him, nor even panic about whether he'd find something, and focuses more on rearranging his pots by the wall to make more room for his azalea starter.
"You're surprisingly consistent," Tango suddenly piped up, "Even my apartment isn't as spotless as yours everyday," he snorted, brushing his hands over the bookshelf. He feels no speck of dirt or dust. The cleanliness of it all disturbs him almost.
"That's because I don't live with your roommates," Etho jabbed lightheartedly.
The officer could only roll his eyes and huff out a defeated laugh, "'Guess that's true. The only reason the apartment is semi-walkable is because Impulse can't stand the disorganization; or maybe he just hated the half eaten breakfast sandwich that keeps getting forgotten on the counter for weeks to months."
"That's either a Skizz thing or a Zedaph spontaneous experimenting thing. Maybe both if they were left alone long enough," Etho jested. Tango laughed much brighter.
Etho laughs along before shortly quieting down. His fingers absentmindedly caress the newly bloomed flowers of some his older plants. After a while, he adds onto his previous answer, knowing Tango wanted a proper answer for work reason, "Honestly, I just don't have much to do."
The phantom feeling of chemical burns haunts his now healed hands as he glances over at the too clean apartment. Too empty apartment. Too lacking apartment (glorified prison, actually). Anyone would've been relieved to have such a clean apartment, yet the sight only made Etho want to clean more til his hands burn.
Just to see a little speck of anything to ruin it all. To ruin him again.
"These are to distract myself, or rather, to give myself something to do other than to mindlessly wait, Keralis suggested." Etho explained when Tango gave him another yet concerned look when he went too silent. Something that made Etho want to snap sometimes but knew best than to take his partial co-workers' pity and concern.
He chose this. Etho wishes they knew better than to think he was the most pitiful one here.
"That's why the plants are here too." Tango pointed out for him. Etho turned back to his line of plants, the only thing that wasn't too clean nor too organized. The sight of green and dirt immediately made Etho relax once again. He nodded to Tango, "It's a good hobby."
Tango hummed appreciatively, seemingly genuinely happy that gardening was apparently going well, "Glad you found something to do. They seem pretty healthy."
"I still need supervision to use the garden shears though." Etho pouted like a child, as if there wasn't a concerningly murderous reason why the situation needed to be so.
The officer couldn't comfort him nor give any excuse that wouldn't require bringing up Etho's past, donning on an awkward look. It was almost laughable, how everyone was so adamant about dancing around the fact that he was previously a killer. As if the reason why they met him in the first place wasn't because he was one. A truth that shouldn't be so scary to mention.
Etho doesn't force Tango to speak out a reply and mercifully moves the conversation along. Anymore concerning statements and Etho would probably lose his current progress of 'redemption', "I'm a bit sad though."
Tango takes the opportunity to move on from the previous topic almost immediately, "What's up?"
"No one's really around to see how well they've grown, except you." Etho's lets out a dramatic sigh, "The investigation team only visits when they need me. Never comes over too long for a chat or anything."
He pauses then points at himself jokingly, "For obvious reasons." Tango furrowed his eyebrows guiltily, "I mean, I can come over more often to check on your plants if you want."
Etho's gaze travels up and down on Tango's figure before ultimately shaking his head, "Nah, you've glazed my new lifestyle enough. It's getting fake."
"Hey?!"
"You're also busy with other things."
Tango can't help but feel as if he's trying to reassure a whining child, "Listen, dude- If I was so busy, I wouldn't be doing home visits."
Etho snorts, "You're required to do home visits."
"Well, at least I'm here!" Tango defends squeakily, clearly having run out of things to defend himself with. He rolls his eyes when Etho flashes him a look that clearly said he takes victory in this minor arguement.
Tango glares down at the plants before saying, "They're healthy."
"Yup."
"The flowers look cared for."
Etho sighs aloud in disappointment, "It's really not the same." Tango deadpans at him, "What's not the same?!"
Etho doesn't look back at him as he plucks one of the already grown Azalea flowers from his small shrub, a pink one that he was first allowed to have. He twirls it in his hand before turning around, "If he were here, he'd say the flowers look healthy and looked cared for."
...
The probation officer wanted to hit him and complain, but Etho's rare mention of a certain person has him shutting his mouth to let the man continue, to be vulnerable.
Unfortunately, Etho doesn't say anything anymore and turns to the vase at corner of his countertop of the open kitchen to drop the flower in it, alongside all the other pink and red azaleas. It's made quite a big, compact bunch.
"...I'm sure he would," Tango replied quietly, testing the waters. With Etho's back to him, he can't tell his reaction or expression, but by the sound of his soft, longing voice- Well, Tango still can't gauge his true feelings. "Not only he would... He did. Once, twice, enough for me to feel like my stomach bloomed flowers as well."
Etho bunched up the flowers and turns back to Tango. Gone was the 'goofball' persona, in came the man who yearned; with an expression akin to a broken man who longed to be put together again.
Neither expression mentioned were something they thought Etho wasn't capable of before. Watching him grow from a prisoner to a, well, half-prisoner- everyone at some point had this distorted view that maybe there's someone such as this that could be redeemable.
Tango doesn't remember when he had gotten so soft. Something felt wrong, yet he couldn't find any reason or explanation for it.
"His birthday is coming up," Etho snapped him out of his thoughts. His heterochromic eyes intense yet dimmed with sadness, "I was hoping... If it's not too much trouble...."
He fidgeted with the azalea flowers in hand. A work made of his own heart. Etho didn't continue to speak after that, like he expected the other person to continue the sentence. Tango doesn't know if the way he trailed off so pitifully was a strategy or if the man was actually embarrassed to ask of anything.
He should.. say no. Should, but-
Tango looks down at the flowers then back up et Etho's pleading face. He shuts his eyes and takes a breath, groaning in defeat.
"Just this once."
Etho grinned, "This isn't the first time though."
"Etho." Tango warned weakly. Etho said obediently, "Yes sir."
Tango hardened his expression, "I'll have to check if it's not toxic."
"Mhm."
"See if there's nothing harmful either."
"Oh, never."
"I also can't say it's from you."
Etho takes a little longer to answer that. His eyes stare down at his grown flowers in thought before nodding slowly, "That's alright." He smiled gently, "As long as it reaches him."
When the ex-killer puts it like that, Tango starts to get suspicious. He can't really tell if that's foreshadowing, a threat, or Etho just genuinely cares for his... man.
But he had already somehow promised this favor already so he decided to leave whatever issue happens next to the Tango of the future who'd have to make sure the bouquet is safe.
The way Etho beamed at him as he takes the bouquet begrudgingly had Tango optimistically hoping that this simple act of affection could somehow confirm his hopes that Etho had maybe become a good person.
On the scale of 1 to 10, how possessive is Grian to Mumbo? How does Mumbo think about it?
(Also love ur au u got me into convex)
not beta read. i have no respect for my own writing so we read this at its most confusing form;
---------- Clingy
Grian had always been clingy.
Mumbo knows this and so does everyone else who had watched them grow up together. There wasn't a single time where Grian wasn't stuck to Mumbo's side at any given opportunity. His parents found it cute. Mumbo found it comforting.
Besides, he was just about in the same boat, but he's learned to be normal about it as he grew older. He usually excuses that he was simply a nervous child back then so it wasn't abnormal to have that one emotional supportive best friend, even if reminiscing such clinginess was still quite embarrassing.
It was only when they started genuinely living together- Alone together, that Mumbo somehow feels more hyperaware of how much they actually cling to each other. But is it really just hyperawareness or has Grian just been genuinely clingier recently? He can't tell.
Mumbo sometimes blames it on the brief period in their life where they just didn't see each other a lot, or actually ever. University did that to people, of course. Different careers and paths. But he'd be ignorant if he didn't acknowledge that the distance between them started since the end of highschool, when Pearl was suddenly more active than Grian was. They still hungout during that time, but definitely lesser than when they did as kids.
But it was fine, right? They just had a lot more free time as kids. People can grow... distant as they age, but the acceptance of that fact still didn't prevent Mumbo from feeling hurt when Grian suddenly stopped contacting him or seeing him at all.
So when Grian abruptly came back to him in the middle of the night on a random weekday in his dorm that Mumbo doesn't remember even talking about to him, crushing him into a hug that felt punishing, Mumbo was confused, relieved, surprised, and everything all at once. Grian tends to have that effect on him, he realized. Grian tends to be... everything all at once to him.
"Mumbo, do you still remember me?" Grian's voice was shaky, expectant, disregarding greetings or even an apology.
Mumbo could only sigh then, "Of course I do!" The way Grian was holding him so painfully felt like he had to.
He should've been more aware by Grian's unusual habits starting from there. Actually, he should've especially started noticing them starting from when Grian gave him no choice but to move in with him because he kept rambling on and on about how he'd decorated "their dream home" based on a passing conversation they had during an art class as kids.
Mumbo doesn't even remember that conversation anymore... He felt so moved at the time that he didn't even question the offer.
I mean, who was going to pass up the opportunity of completely skipping the part where he worries about his future home and his future job afer graduation? Just move in with your best friend that keeps pretending that he didn't just leave you for 2 whole years!
Secondly, the next sign of Grian's weirdness should've been the fact that the apartment Grian promised had 'extra space' for Mumbo, was apparently just Grian's room; with extra space on his bed. Embarrassing, Mumbo wanted to say, wondering if he should offer to replace the bed with separate beds to push into different corners of the room, but Grian's dead serious toned whisper stopped him first before he could open his mouth to complain, "I'll kill you if you leave me."
Mumbo nervously and slowly turned his head to him, wondering if he was joking. Grian smiled at him sweetly, squeezing his arm like he's reminding Mumbo of his presence both through sight and touch, "I still get nightmares, Mumbo. Don't tell me you're going to leave me to fend it off alone? It was difficult without you, you know."
Mumbo, though he held doubts in his heart, frowned at that in worry, "You should've started off with that, mate. You seriously concern me."
Grian only laughed in response, having slept peacefully that night regardless of whether he was aware of how Mumbo was sweating in Grian's koala grip from either nervousness or because of how warm his face felt from being cuddled to sleep at his age.
It wasn't only those from then on, but some of Grian's actions became so frequent that Mumbo doesn't even realize if it's weird anymore.
The weird cheek nuzzling that was excused as a joke of 'copying cats'. (Mumbo thought it was funny and did it back anyway which apparently encouraged Grian to do it more. Which was totally fine.)
The weird times Grian just knows his work schedule, even the last minute changes. (Mumbo chalked it up to Pearl telling him.)
The weird way Grian was way too ready and eager to introduce himself as a boyfriend to people they don't know. (Grian told him that it was a good tactic to see who had certain motivations. Mumbo believed him. Totally not because he found the idea... amusing.)
The weird gossip Grian would somehow know about on every new person Mumbo meets at work. (He recognizes he's only looking out for him.)
And now, it was the biting to "make his mark"
"Grian!" Mumbo groaned exasperatedly as Grian kept trying to bite at any available skin of his like a teething dog, trying to fend him off back to his side of the sofa to protect himself, "Are you like this with everyone?!"
Grian paused, tilting his head and squinting his eyes at him, "What do you think?"
Mumbo frowns and thinks it through for a while. He tries imagining anyone dealing with Grian the same way he's been dealing with him. Someone else cuddling with Grian through his nightmares, someone else being the receiver of the absentminded cheek nuzzling, someone else...
Mumbo suddenly felt a little angry at his own imagination, "No," he said resolutely, squishing Grian's face between his hands as he said sternly, "You're not allowed to be like that with everyone- anyone!"
Grian blinks up at him, almost surprised. Mumbo blinks back, before feeling his face heat up while Grian slowly forms a smug grin. Mumbo begins sputtering out excuses to accusations no one is even verbally saying, "I-I'm the only one who can deal with your nonsense! You can't go off and.. bite people! You might bite them to death!"
Grian's gaze falls distant like he's considering it. Mumbo gently pinches his cheeks to bring his attention back to him, making the strawberry blonde whine childishly.
"Can you please not purposefully try to worry me?" Mumbo pleaded weakly.
Grian laughs, "Fine, fine. I won't be going off biting people to death."
Mumbo's shoulders hunches, "Somehow, I don't trust you on that..."
The shorter man slowly slumps against Mumbo's side, basically melting against him. Mumbo doesn't push him away this time, though there were many times he didn't.
"You'll just have to see to it that you don't leave my side. Keep an eye on me, you know?" The way Grian whispered that made Mumbo heat up. He felt as if he was selling his soul to something here, but he doesn't read into it.
He could only simply smile in defeat, leaning back against his roommate, "That's a pretty high demanding job. Where's my promotion for all my hardwork so far?"
Grian absentmindedly squeezes Mumbo's wrist, eyes wandering up to the other's side profile with a weird smile, "Soon."
Truly, Mumbo wasn't the one who was keeping an eye on anyone, but Grian will let him believe what he will believe.
in the serial killer au, how did scar meet Cub the second time?
----- Your Biggest Fan!
[ Scarfan135 is online. ]
[ GoodTimesSquare went online. ]
GoodTimesSquare: Don't think I'm gonna release an update the next few weeks ;;;
Scarfan135: Oh?
GoodTimesSquare: Yeah
GoodTimesSquare: Thought I'd tell ya! As my biggest fan and all
GoodTimesSquare: Actually.. maybe one of my biggest fans*
Scarfan135: ...Hm
Scarfan135: Appreciated
Scarfan135: Why no release tho? :(
GoodTimesSquare: Need ta search for a new apartment agghhh
Scarfan135: You're moving?
GoodTimesSquare: Yups, it was either that or medication apparently
GoodTimesSquare: And I already take too much of those! :p
GoodTimesSquare: So I'm following the advice of moving out for the betterment of my mental health!
GoodTimesSquare: Yay! Mental health!
Scarfan135: Yay
Scarfan135: So you're... moving out of town?
GoodTimesSquare: The further the better I guess
GoodTimesSquare: Can't really find any good places to move into though
GoodTimesSquare: Either not enough money or I end up excusing that it's too far from my favorite bakery
GoodTimesSquare: Which... The point was it's supposed to be far from my favorite bakery!
GoodTimesSquare: Hm
GoodTimesSquare: Yeah, I'm no good at moving and stuff
GoodTimesSquare: Don't know if there'll be any bakeries willing to be negotiated into personally delivering food to me everyday
GoodTimesSquare: Since
GoodTimesSquare: Ya know
GoodTimesSquare: I don't. Go outside :")
GoodTimesSquare: Don't think it'll change with a new place
GoodTimesSquare: I mean, they said it would be nice if I could try
Scarfan135: You can move in with me
GoodTimesSquare: But I just think it's safer if I don't go out at all it's been workingofrme
GoodTimesSquare: what?
Scarfan135: You can move in with me
Scarfan135: Hermitville should be far enough for you.
GoodTimesSquare: Hold on
GoodTimesSquare: Oh, that is quite far from me
GoodTimesSquare: How did you know that tho?
Scarfan135: I've got lot of space in my apartment
Scarfan135: A street away from a cafe and a bakery
Scarfan135: And pet friendly
GoodTimesSquare: Compelling arguement
GoodTimesSquare: How would I know you're not a murderer trying to cut me open,
GoodTimesSquare: take my organs out, and
GoodTimesSquare: possibly sell my brain to an auction
GoodTimesSquare: while promoting that it holds the power of 20 unfinished story wips
Scarfan135: I've been following you since you were on 10 followers, would I really want to kill my favorite author?
GoodTimesSquare: I'm on 12 followers that's not really a good back up....
Scarfan135: I've been following you for 2 years, would I really want to kill my favorite author?
Scarfan135: Keep you to myself, maybe, but never hurt you
GoodTimesSquare: lol
GoodTimesSquare: It's still scary!
GoodTimesSquare: I don't even know your real name!
Scarfan135: You've been calling me by my real last name.
GoodTimesSquare: .....You're literally called Fan?
Scarfan135: Yes
GoodTimesSquare: ....
GoodTimesSquare: .........
GoodTimesSquare: LMAOOOFJIOAIFJOKLWSF
Scarfan135: Very funny
GoodTimesSquare: Quite hilarious actually!
GoodTimesSquare: So your username could also mean it's just me inheriting your last name?
Scarfan135: Anyways
GoodTimesSquare: You sly dog!
Scarfan135: Anyways!
Scarfan135: It's not that I'm forcing you, if you don't trust me
Scarfan135: But offer is still on the table
Scarfan135: I can handle rent until you can handle it with me
GoodTimesSquare: I'm going to start thinking you love me if you keep that up
Scarfan135: I do
GoodTimesSquare: Really living up to your family name, Fan
GoodTimesSquare: LLOPFKOAFJAWIKOF,MFAOOOP
Scarfan135: Oh my god
GoodTimesSquare: On a serious note, I'll consider
GoodTimesSquare: It's not about trust
GoodTimesSquare: Believe me, I actually do trust you
GoodTimesSquare: Considering you're one of the few friends I have left ever since I shut myself in
GoodTimesSquare: Just
GoodTimesSquare: I dunno
GoodTimesSquare: I guess I need a little more time
GoodTimesSquare: Or Jellie does! She's picky with places, a queen knows what she wants
Scarfan135: I'll convince her
GoodTimesSquare: Oh, yes, with your wonderful skills to effectively speak cat
Scarfan135: I wasn't lying about it before
GoodTimesSquare: Alright dude lol
Scarfan135: I'll send you photos of the apartment soon
GoodTimesSquare: That would be nice
GoodTimesSquare: I'll go for a bit
GoodTimesSquare: Screen hurting my eyes
Scarfan135: I told you to lower down the brightness
Scarfan135: But, rest well
GoodTimesSquare: Muah!
[ GoodTimesSquare is Offline ]
======================
Cub looks up from his phone, zoning out as he counts the number of footsteps thumping on his ceiling from the movements of the apartment above him.
He sits in his dim empty living room for a while, waiting a few more seconds until he's sure the thumps wouldn't come back again. He reads through their conversation one last time before turning his phone off and carelessly throwing it wherever on the couch.
He stretches his arms and sighs at the sight of his barely unpacked suitcases haphazardly nestled in the corner of the room.
"Looks like I'm on the move again," he mutters. Just when he just got here, really. Good thing he didn't completely buy out the place out of impulse.
Cub hadn't expected to go back to his home-home this early. But he does have some things he needs to clean up if Scar is truly going to move in with him. The simply thought makes him want to speed home, actually.
He hadn't meant to invite Scar as a roomate either, but this was more worth it than spending half of his salary to keep renting this place out just to be close to Scar.
He'll have to be better at hiding secrets from now on.
can we know more about sk!au gempearl? i feel like everyone always asks about the boys and leaves them out
---------- Trust
"Time of death should be over past a day or more already..."
"Ah, yuuup, look at the flexibility on those things- stiffness gone, you see? But still dead, obviously."
"Look- Yuck.. Rotting already! Must've been found in such a nasty pla-"
Gem slams her gloved hand down on the leftover space on the table, head snapping to squint her eyes at Pearl hovering beside her, "Pearl."
Pearl batted her eyelashes, "Doc." She nods politely.
"Are you the forensic worker here or am I?" The forensic worker asks. The journalist backs off with her hands raised in surrender, though her smile says that she didn't feel too sorry about her disruption.
Perhaps she probably even thinks she's not being disruptive, "Just trying to speed up the process!" She excused. Gem sighs out a tired groan in response, "This isn't something you can just speed up!"
Pearl giggled, "But speeding up means you get to spend the rest of your free time with me~"
The shorter girl is briefly caught off guard by the admittance, cheeks behind her mask and goggles flushing scarlet. The color remained even as her eyebrows furrow from realization and she starts raising her hand like she's threatening to smack her shoulder. Pearl lets out a squeak and tries to back away to save herself.
"Hey! No spreading of rotting juices of the dead!"
Gem almost gags at the the way that idea was worded and immediately puts her hand down, "Who even let you in here?!"
The journalist nods her head to the glass windows where Cub was stationed just outside, focused on writing something down in his clipboard before he looks up to realize that the two girls were looking at him.
Gem snappily points her thumb towards Pearl like she was silently asking; "Why is she here?"
The man looks between the two of them before shrugging like he was silently saying... Actually, he could be saying anything! What does that shrug even answer!
She turns to glare at Pearl for an answer instead, to which Pearl replied, "I'm wearing the proper equipment?" She makes jazz hands with her gloved hands.
Yeah, no. No one is understanding her silent question. This is why they've been blessed with the ability to speak, yet Gem doesn't use it to reiterate anymore as she's honestly decided that no one is worthy of giving a proper answer either way.
"I'm gonna need to re-brief everyone on lab safety again after this, maybe even have an additional discussion about letting desperate journalists in," Gem grumbled as she's turning back to the dead body on the table.
"Not a desperate journalist, just a desperate Pearl." Pearl corrects her slyly, yet Gem doesn't even want to ask what the difference is.
Pearl watches silently for a while as Gem starts stitching up the incision she made on the body. Even with the other's disruption, it seems she's learned what she needs to learn.
"You know, you could leave it to Cub. This shouldn't even be mainly your job," the journalist finally speaks up again when she deemed the silence way too comfortable for Gem.
Gem's goggles fog up briefly as she sighs in response, "No, I.. I need to do this."
"Why?"
"Impulse advised me to."
The room was silent for a while. Pearl glances over to where Cub is supposed to be, but had already left when he noticed that Gem was wrapping up already.
"Advised you not to trust Cub?"
Gem doesn't respond. Pearl watches her unmoving figure for a while until she decides to drop the topic for now. "But hey, instead of doing it alone then, you can trust me to assist!" The taller returned to cheerily hovering behind her again.
Gem relaxes a bit despite herself at the slight topic change., "You're not even supposed to be part of this. You're just nosy." She jabbed playfully even with the honest comment.
"Hey, you trust Etho. Him and I are barely different from the places we came from!" Pearl mentioned casually.
Gem stiffens, then turns to her with a stern tone, "What do you mean?"
It was hard to get a look at Pearl's face under the mask and the goggles, but Gem, ever the most observant, can see the slight twitch in her eye. A tell for something. Gem doesn't know enough to be sure what is that something.
Pearl responds casually after hesitating for a mere milisecond, "I mean, I report murder cases and Etho used to do them. Same place, different roles! Surely we both know enou-"
"Stop-" Both of them pause. Gem clenches and unclenches her hand beside her, "Stop mentioning how Etho was... that-"
Pearl's takes on a deeper much stern tone, though she tries to make it seem like a casual comment, it felt accusing, "Just because he's helping you now doesn't remove his sins."
Gem snaps, "Yes, but he doesn't have to <i> continously </i> live with it!"
They stare each other down. Gem's defiant stance contrasting Pearl's slowly sagging one.
"You'd forgive him so easily?"
"He's-" Gem hesitates, almost as if she needs to take a bit of time to wonder her own judgement. She sucks in a breath and commits, "He's changed. I mean, he's been trying his best to show that he has."
"It's... unfair. To his efforts," she ends.
Pearl goes eerily still and silent. Was fully admitting that she believed in Etho despite their rocky start a real shock? Then again, she couldn't have imagined herself to say these things either.
Just when she was about to turn around and skip over what they just talked about, Pearl suddenly reaches out to her hands, making her breath hitch in surprise and confusion.
"Doc..." She squeezes their gloved hands together, "You truly have my heart."
They couldn't see each other's face, but Pearl's tone suggests that she was smiling, maybe even holding back giggles. Gem could even see that her hands were trembling a bit from where they held hers.
Somehow, she finds her face heating up again, fogging up her glasses slightly, "Y-you.. Weren't you scared of spreading the rotting juices of the dead?" She jabs playfully.
Pearl then releases her hands with a yelp, "Oh- Ew, ew, ew-!" She dramatically stretches her arms out to get her hands away from herself, "Geeemmmm!"
The girl with the same name could only laugh and shoo the journalist off to the cleaning station, "Go clean up, you idiot! This is what you get for bribing your way in!"
Pearl groans disgustedly, "I demand a compensation for my efforts here..."
Gem rolls her eyes, "Go and wait outside. I'm finishing up anyway."
The journalist straightens up at the offer, "You promise?"
*holds out art, fics, money and everything you could ever need*
Any of these things, even all of them. Just to get a bit of lore about our favourite kidnapper x victim yaoi
fine but don't expect insane writing i did this in half an hour
------- Left Behind
It's 3 hours past dinner, Bdubs notices.
After his squabble with Etho that turned into something more than it should, Bdubs had been alone since lunch time. Usually during a weekend like this, he would've spent the afternoon playing board games with Etho to pass the time.
But he hadn't come back. So now he's huddled in the corner of his indoor garden, wedged between the shelves with his legs brought up to his chest to take up as much little space as possible. He was afraid that any amount of space was going to remind him how his boyfriend wasn't there.
This was the first time Etho had walked out of the house and had stayed out for this long.
"I'm too much? I'll have to show you what too much actually is!" Etho had laughed when he left like that. He thought he was just committing so some kind of joke when he did, but his long absence has Bdubs thinking otherwise now.
He didn't mean to argue with him. Never meant his words! He thought he was being pretty smart about it when he hesitated about, you know, committing to marrying him.
No matter how much he emphathizes with Etho, this situation is pretty weird, right? There's no way he could continue living like this.
If he had agreed to his proposal, would he have had to do his wedding in the living room? Without his friends and family to be happy for him?
What of their honeymoon? In the bedroom that he's already too familiar of for the past multiple months? Being with his boyfriend was great, of course, but he didn't know if he saw a long happy future here.
Etho didn't seem to think the same.
"We don't need anyone else. Hasn't your stay here been the proof of that?"
"You're being silly, Bdubs. We love each other! That should be enough!"
"Why do you keep questioning me? I'm giving you everything you could've ever wanted. Am I not enough?"
"You don't trust me, do you? Fine. Let's do a trust exercise then!"
Bdubs regrets it. Regrets it all. He should've just agreed, shouldn't have to doubt Etho at all. It's not like Etho didn't love him any less for whatever fuck up he was. Bdubs should've done the same. Love was all about giving to each other equally. Did Bdubs even love him at all? Of course, he did! He stayed for a reason! But was that enough? What if he was lying to Etho about loving him all this time? No, that shouldn't be the case- That shouldn't be-
He feels himself breathing heavier. His hands find purchase on his own hair, tugging it painfully to ground himself.
He needs to calm down. Etho will come back. He knows he will. He promised that he'd never leave him. After all, he loves him.
And when he comes back, he'll bring Bdubs into his arms as usual, cuddling and kissing him until he feels better- until all of this was just a bad time they could look back upon and laugh about when they're spending their 10th wedding anniversary or whatever.
Yeah... Yeah, it'll be alright. After all of this is over, Bdubs will be sure to never doubt their love again.
When Bdubs first get locked away, did he run through all his past memories with Etho and have things fall into context? Like, in the story he probably was told that he fell and knocked himself unconscious, but did he realise once Etho's true colours were shown that it could have been something else? I'm sure that's not the only questionable thing Etho has done to him.
bdubs would honestly confront etho while he was trapped in the house, asking him for clarifications to his doubts since he still did want to understand etho without assuming so wrongly and hatefully
etho would answer with an excuse or a lie half the time, the other half would be blunt honesty. all depending on his mood. bdubs would ask the same question and he'd have a different answer each time
"When some of my locks were weirdly broken in my house...." Oh? Were they? I mean, that house is pretty old
"The time my friend disappeared when they were sleepin' over-" They were taking advantage of you. I just helped!
"How could you have helped!?" By breaking into your house and helping him outside, of course!
"So the broken locks were your doin'!" Oh, no. They just happened to be broken!
"But you admitted to breakin' into my house!" I guess that is a funny coincidence.
"...Where did ya keep them?" The locks?
"My friend, ya idiot!" Hehe, the cabin in the woods. The place I promised you.
"You... Did ya bury them there?" I didn't bury anyone, Bdubs.
"But they're missin'!!" A lot of people tend to disconnect from the world when surrounded by nature.
"Where is he!" ... On the trees.
"On the trees?" Hanging... out with the birds.
"...You didn't." Yes, I didn't. I was joking!
"For f- Take me seriously!" I have never been more serious for anyone.
"...."
"..... I'm tired." I'll sing you a lullaby.
"No, your lullabies are probably full of bull too!"
do you think we could get more information abt Etho n bdubs? -someone who is obsessed with anything and everything Etho
------ Welcome Home
Oh, I've done it now.
Bdubs laid stomach down on the floor, unconscious from the extremely impulsive hard hit on the back of the head Etho inflicted when they arrived at Etho's house after a college reunion party.
"It's dangerous at night! I'll walk you home!" The wonderful little guy had said. He really shouldn't have done that. Look at what you've done to the both of us, Bdubs. Now I couldn't help myself!
Etho stood still in place for a while, taking the time to register for a few minutes as to what he had just done to his beloved best friend. He came to be when his phone started vibrating in his pockets, willing his shaky hand to cooperate with him as he fished out his phone to check his notifications.
(1) ✉️ Cweo!
Tell me when you get home safe.
(2) ✉️ Cweo!
And if Bdubs had left too, so I can count the time to see if he ends up getting kidnapped on the streets by some random dude
Etho shut his eyes and sighed deep through his mask. How is he going to tell Cleo that he's the said random dude? Actually, maybe it was better this way rather than an actual random dude. He wasn't a random dude! He was Bdubs' best friend!
This situation was surely infinitely better than an actual kidnapping. After all, this isn't kidnapping! This is... just asking Bdubs to stay over after a tiring night with some steps skipped over and changed! He's quite the saint to let Bdubs stay, he feels.
Etho slowly put his gaze back on Bdubs who continued to lay on the ground, realizing that he really wasn't going to get up. He shoved his phone into his pocket and panickedly kneeled to check if he actually hadn't killed his best friend, ignoring the painful thud! when his knees met the pavement.
He pressed his cheek on the ground, levelling his face to meet with Bdubs' slack face.
Haaa... huuu... haa... huuu... He follows his almost-silent breathing, his own breaths heavy with paranoia and something else.
Alive. Etho tries his best to hold back an unusually giddy giggle.
He sits up and unlocks his phone to send a quick message to Cleo.
[ Eefo ]
Bdubs was too sleepy to go back home. he's staying over :)
[ Cweo! ]
Yeah? typical
[ Eefo ]
Yeah
[ Cweo! ]
Don't let him hog up the bed then. Good night
Etho waits for a while until Cleo's icon greys to show they're offline. He slowly puts away his phone, staring down at the unconscious Bdubs longer than he should.
Little itty bitty Bdubs, unaware that he's in a place where he shouldn't be sleeping that comfortably. Etho worries of a situation where he wouldn't be the one standing over his unconscious body, ignoring the fact that he's really the only one who has the reason to be knocking his friend unconscious.
Gosh, his face feels hot. Probably from the heavy panting he's unconsciously doing under the facemask. He needs to get it together.
Don't let him hog up the bed, Cleo said. Right, right, right. He needs to get Bdubs to a bed. He can't be sleeping on the pavement. It's dirty. He deserves a better sleeping place.
And Etho has a very much comfy house right there, with a comfy bed that he's always meticulously cleaned up everyday for a chance like this.
A chance like this? No, he hasn't been preparing for it. Who said that? He just... formed some habits after being friends with Bdubs for so long. Yeah. Even Cleo had weighted blankets stored for when Bdubs goes over to their apartment. This is no different.
Totally wholesome intentions.
Etho ceases all self debates in his head, carelessly throwing his shovel back on his lawn and folding his sleeves up to his elbows as he turned Bdubs around and carried him up princess style.
Oh, how cute. Bdubs was instinctively already curling up on the warmth of his body as soon as Etho picked him up. Suppose his unconscious self shouldn't worry any longer. Etho was more than willing to let him cuddle up for the rest of the night.
Or for the rest of the next morning, where he would get up early to ready breakfast for Bdubs.
Or until tomorrow's afternoon, where he would lie to Bdubs how he should rest more since he somehow fell unconscious and then hit his head on the pavement.
Or until the next night, where Bdubs would realize that Etho has more locks than a normal house should have.
Or until forever, where Etho finally accepts that there will be no amount of excuses for what he's willing to do to keep Bdubs.
I'm not trying to force you it's just that I've been starved of Convex (/hj), and the brainworms I get from your SK au are infectious and have taken over my cerebellum completely now.
(I forgot what the cerebellum was doesn't it have to do with muscle movement?)
i dont know how to "complain" so just have a drabble
-------- Dedicated to You
"Dedicated to my roommate, Cub."
"Dedicated to my roommate, Cub, who forgot to wash the dishes during his scheduled days."
"Dedicated to my roommate, Cub, who forgot to kiss me goodnight on August 19, 9:05 PM."
"Dedicated to my roommate, Cub. I miss him. He's not dead, but he's also not at home a lot."
Cub snorts at the dedication page of Scar's latest book; Mind in the Desert. Ever since he and Scar had started living together, a lot of his stories had mentioned Cub in the dedication page. Sometimes it would only have Cub at all.
It's not that it was weird for a book to be dedicated Cub. Almost every book Scar has recently published was dedicated to him, except the select few that were saved for Jellie, who enviously took up more of the page than Cub's own mentions.
Not that he'd argue with the cat over Scar having more things to say about her than Cub. He was quite fine with the silly one-liners.
Besides, Cub's dedications were a lot more interesting. It wasn't as overly TMI as Scar's anecdotes about how Jellie inspired him by almost choking him in his sleep by loafing on his face, but it showed a lot of Scar's honest feelings that would've been better for text messaging but he ultimately chose to say in a published book, where he wouldn't be able to take it back even if it briefly embarrasses him.
Cub looked forward to reading Scar's stories, but he looked forward to seeing his dedication page the most.
He had texted Cleo about it at first, when they first started getting a little silly past the "Dedicated to the my roommate, Cub" part. Their reply to him had been simple;
"It was either that or the 5 page anecdote about the different measurements of Jellie's shedded fur. The story is long enough on its own. No one is buying them to read about Jellie!"
...Well, that's quite an assumption. Cub would've been more than ready to read a 5 page anecdote about Jellie before getting into the story.
But, alas, that is not the problem. The problem is that almost everyone in the entire world who has read Scar's stories is already assuming how bad of a roommate he is.
He'll have to fix that.
He opens his phone's messaging app to see if Scar had messaged at all related to the dedication page of his newly released book.
None. But the way his icon lights up and goes gray back and forth tells Cub that Scar was probably waiting for him to do something about it.
Cub smiles down at the page one last time, thumb carressing the page before shutting it. He hesitates for a while in the aisle before buying 2 more copies and rushing to the cash register.
As he thinks of home, of Scar, Cub wonders; what will it take for a book to be dedicated to a boyfriend rather than a roommate?
Platonic HatO Gempearleo when you have the time please? (Gods, who could POSSIBLY be asking for gempearleo, it's a MYSTERY /sar)
hermmmm i dont rememver how to write them so this is ooc
------
"Are you sure you can handle yourself?" Cleo asked for the nth time, watching on as the oracle busied herself with stretching for the upcoming game. Though, one would be unsure if any amount of stretching would protect you from literal demigods, they kept that kind of comment to themself.
"Of course I can!" Gem straightened up with a determined look, breathing in deep before exhaling out slowly. She fidgets with her armor chestpiece for the nth time, both nervous yet excited, "Just because I don't have schmancy fancy powers like everyone else- Well, combat ones at least- doesn't mean I'm any less good at fighting."
Gem's combat skills are, no doubt, insane. Cleo can completely trust that, but what they can't trust are half gods running on pure adrenaline and competitive spirit in a free reign forest whose only braincells are focused on winning the other team's flags.
They also don't trust that they'll be able to hold back if someone touches at least a strand on Gem's hair. They're sure that others would understand the feeling too.
And speaking of, here's one of the others, "You shouldn't worry too much, Cleo!" Pearl comes up from behind Gem and carries her up by her armpits, earning her a 'Hey!' of complaint.
"She may be mostly mortal and short, but that's why she's got us on a team with her to make up for what's lacking. Ain't that right, Gemmy?"
Gem deadpans at her, "There isn't gonna be a team any longer if you don't put me down," she threatens jokingly, her lips twitching at an attempt to suppress a grin.
The display has Cleo snickering, "Is that a prophecy from the oracle?"
Gem shrugs as Pearl puts her down gently, "Maybe? Whatever gets you all to stop treating me like I'm fragile. I've got more in me other than just constant fainting and being a smoke machine, you know?"
Pearl pokes her cheek playfully, "Oohhh, smoke bomb Gem! An interesting suggestion!"
"I didn't suggest anything!" Gem huffed, poking Pearl back with a slightly harsher push. The action only served to make the receiving victim laugh rather than hurt.
Cleo poked them both at their sides to get their attention, catching their attention as they both recoil with a squeak, "How about this instead then-"
The demigod unsheathes their dagger as a horn blares from a distance to signal the start of Capture the Flag. The three teammates meet each other's eyes, "Would our dear oracle predict whether we're going to win this game or not?"
Gem raised an eyebrow at that question, before then breaking into a grin as she unsheathes the sword Tango had forged for her.
She raised it in the air, "Fate or not, of course we are!"
Pearl laughed joyfully, preparing her bow, "Well, you heard her!"
More SK!convex shenanigans??? More story maybe ??? 🥺🥺🥺
tw , cw // descriptions of organs , g0re , depictions murder , fucked up characters lowkey
1st warning ^ this is called a serial killer au for a reason
2nd warning ^
-
Scar remembered everything yet nothing at the same time.
Before he, ironically, got himself a prominent scar to win over all other scars on his body, he vividly remembers the smell of iron, of rot, of the feeling of a warm hand cradling his face way too gently as if there wasn't a body just a few steps away carved out like a pumpkin.
No, more like a patient taken in for a chest surgery. Ribs broken apart, yet organs were taken out and organized cleanly. Save for the intestines that was played around with to tie around the poor victim's neck like a sticky noose. The doer would simply hum at the sight before proceeding to the other parts.
How would Scar know this? One would ask. Well, it's because he watched the entire procedure up until the moment he got caught for peeping instead of running at the first safest opportunity. You know, like a smart human being.
Scar would've been fine gaslighting himself into thinking it was an actual surgery ongoing if it weren't for the fact that he did not run fast enough to do so and for the fact that this was going on in an abandoned warehouse that he could've sworn to all afterlife available that it was totally abandoned.
Oh, and the fact that the guy pinning him down was surely not dressed like a surgeon. But, hey, maybe medical practices have changed since Scar last went outside.
He faintly wonders if he should've continued to shut himself in. He was about to reach the second year mark too.
"...Hurt..."
The first sound of a whisper after a long period of tense silence had Scar finally focusing back on the murderer that was totally not a surgeon, blinking rapidly to try and make out the other features of the man in the dark.
But before his eyes could adapt, the hand that cradled one side of his face moved up to cover his eyes, touching the fresh injury over his face and making him let out an indignified whimper.
"Shhh..." urged the murderer.
Contrary to what is asked of him, Scar did not shush.
"Are you going to tie my intestines around my neck too?" He swallowed nervously, a phantom feeling of a sticky organ around his neck already haunts him despite not knowing of the feeling yet.
The pathetic display earns him a surprisingly sweet chuckle. Scar's jaw falls open.
Good heavens.
"Nothing of the sort." The man forces a deeper and hoarser tone. The awkward pause after makes Scar believe that even the murderer is a little cringed at the fake voice.
The other shifts slightly on top of him. Scar hears the sound of a spray and he is compelled to ramble his mouth off again in hopes to annoy the killer enough to be let go while distracted.
"H-hey, you said you're a fan, right? This isn't very fan behavior, you know! Well, at least, if you're not one of those. Which I'm sure you're not. I mean, sure, you literally killed a guy, but- Ya know, you're too good lo- Too good with your hands to be using all that skill on lil' ol' me! Wait, no, that doesn't sound very-"
Whatever nonsense the very eloquent author was about to spit out was suppressed by a fabric against his nose and mouth. The strong mixed smell of blood and something strongly sweet has Scar struggling in the sorry of an excuse one-arm hug.
He stiffens when he feels the curve of the fabric move against his lips, desperately pressing against him.
Scar barely registers the attempt at deepening this weird excuse of a kiss. His body going slump alongside his numbing senses.
Just when his eyes were halfway through closing, the hand covering them finally goes away. He weakly tries to grab at the man's hoodie, an attempt at fighting back again or an attempt at trying to ask what the heck was that?
But the kiss thief mistakes his actions and pulls him into his arms, cradling him and rubbing his back to lull him into accepting sleep.
Scar does end up going unconscious, not before his conscious could mentally note that he should probably see a therapist about his newly discovered thing for killers.
okay as an angst lover officially in love with moral-dilemma mumbo could I perhaps have a little treat of moral-dilemma mumbo
tw // mentions of murder, crime
note: separate fiction from reality. /srs
It's not like Mumbo doesn't care. It is because he cares so much that it feels wrong to do something so careless such as forcing his best friend into a corner.
Grian. Before he was a murderer, he was Mumbo's roommate. Before he was Mumbo's roommate, he was his best friend. Before he was his best friend, he was someone who he had sworn to grow old with at the day they first met on each side of the fence between their childhood homes.
But, was he really only a murderer only after the fact that he was Mumbo's roommate? Was there ever a time that it was "during" and not a before and after?
Nonetheless if it was before, during, or after, the fact that Grian had been a man Mumbo solely believed was mercy on earth had been true all throughout.
Grian was a mischeivous sort, but not to this point. At least, that's what Mumbo had been believing until now.
"Protection," Grian suddenly speaks up, causing Mumbo to snap out of his mindspace. He notices Grian's squint before he realizes first that he had unconsciously taken a step back.
Mumbo stiffens in place, out of fear of being hurt or out of fear of being the one hurting, "Protection?" He croaks out.
"When those of authority use their title to inflict such acts..." Grian gestures to the body on the floor, "Is it not in the name of protection? Of justice?"
The atmosphere continues to grow tense, even the night winds don't dare sing their usual whistling melodies.
Mumbo swallows anxiously, "That is only because they're of authority-"
"I don't need a title to know who is deserving of a life or not."
"But when those of the higher status does it, it's normal?"
It's normal because they're trained to do what is believe is the best choice. That's why they are given such high statuses in the first place. But when Grian's eyes meets his, Mumbo finds it hard to verbally defend them.
Grian is given the time to monologue.
"Shoplifters and Hit and Run criminals could get away with enough money."
"Corruption gets away easily with enough bribery."
"Abusers could go through multiple trials only to serve shortly and live freely enough to do it again."
"The world needs.... faster initiative."
Mumbo's breath hitches as Grian takes a step forward, hands slowly reaching out as if to hold him. They stop short when Grian notices Mumbo's trembling.
"Mumbo, it's why we're here." Grian's tone is softer, gentler. Mumbo feels chest tighten despite himself.
"We take initiative to bring justice in our own ways, to help for a better place. Isn't that great?"
The journalist does not respond once again. The killer does not let him.
"I don't want you to live in such a rotten world, Mumbo."
Mumbo exhales shakily, "But what if the world is fine as is?"
Grian's smile does not reach his eyes, "Then you spout lies."
The journalist who wrote to seek change and document change. Such an honest life that wouldn't live long here, but the journalist risks his life anyways.
But considering the current situation, did he ever actually wonder how he lived for so long this way?
What other people do you think would be in the serial killer au and what do you think they'd be if it's alright to ask
skizzpulse is that one detective + cop duo, they're in charge of most murder cases together. Impulse is pretty sure he can do his job well since Skizz is actually good at protecting him, but Skizz does not do his job well in a way that assists Impulse in actually going after the murderers.
"Skizz, please. You gotta listen to me, man." Grian's tone was frantic, panicked. Unlike the sociopath who had killed someone with no remorse literally miliseconds prior. Skizz stubbornly aims his gun at him, yet his hesitation was evident.
His hands shook despite the practiced hold he had on his firearm, "I don't think there's much to say, G." He glances over at the fresh dead body just by the feet of its doer, "I'll make sure to explain everything to Mumbo for you--"
"NO!" Grian growls out, catching Skizz off guard.
Their eyes meet for a long time. The cop watches as Grian changes anger to pleading with his eyes. All in such a short amount of time, like he had practiced it.
Grian fixes his expression and his eyes becomes teary, "He won't take this lightly, Skizz. You know how he is." He clenches his bloody fists to his chest, back hunched over like a scared animal, "He won't understand. You both won't understand."
"I'm doing this for him. You cops hide under the pretense of professionals, but don't you hurt people all the same? All because you care for something? For someone?" Grian's face scrunched up like he was holding back tears. Skizz could feel his eye twitch at the sight.
"Impulse is only alive because of you. If I'm gone, then Mumbo would have who?" Grian intakes a shaky breath, his nose snotty.
Skizz opens and closes his mouth, knowing he needs to say something. Anything that would help both him and Grian find reason amidst all empathy within Skizz's heart. But before he could speak, Grian takes that opportunity away from him.
"You know better than anyone that no one will hire a journalist who was previously entangled with a murderer," Grian mutters in an eerily steady tone, "Everyone will believe he deliberately hid me. Shielded me away from the system."
"You'll take everything away from an innocent, ruin him, all because you're in love with your idea of justice. The idea of being a proper hero."
No. Skizz knows he's wrong. He's an officer! Someone everyone depends to do the right thing! Someone everyone depends on to keep everyone safe.
But can he really save literally everyone?
It wasn't fair to Mumbo. It's not like he knew Grian was like this, right? Mumbo is also in danger if he keeps Grian amok, but then again, Mumbo is still alive, right? Grian admitted he was doing this because he cared for him. He's safe because Grian is keeping him safe. Because Grian is safe.
Skizz doesn't notice himself breathing heavier, getting sweatier. This wasn't his choice to make, but he was the only one who could currently make the choice.
After much delibration and another glance at Grian's pitiful eyes, Skizz clicks the safety of his gun back on.
"Go home, G."
He misses the way Grian smiles as he hesitates no longer to run away.
When Impulse finally finds Skizz, Skizz could only pretend to stay brave.
Ichi's Writing Dump @chobblesomewrites - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
