you're taking writing requests, omg! what about 23 from both lists combined, if that sounds interesting. thanks! 🖤💜
23 - "Is it okay to hold you this tightly?" & "brushing strands of hair away"
Affection prompts || Hurt/Comfort prompts
Is it wrong of me to hold on this tightly?
The thought lurked in the back of his brain as he pored over his research.
It was the most persistent of his fears, the one he couldn't seem to shake. 'What if I fail? What if I can't do this?' — those thoughts he simply refused to entertain. He would bring Shadow back because he had to, because he would allow no other option. 'Could' was not in question. But 'should'...
A strand of hair fell into Vio's face, tickling as it brushed past his cheek. He swiped it away with a scowl, as if doing so could dislodge the nagging thought.
Selfishness. That's what this was, at least in part.
There were plenty of good reasons to try to bring Shadow back: because it was right, because Shadow deserved a chance at a life of his own, because Shadow had been lonely, because Shadow had saved them, because Shadow hadn't deserved to be trapped permanently in the Dark World for the attempt.
But he also wanted to bring Shadow back because he missed him, and he wanted to see him again.
And it would be perfectly understandable if Shadow did not want to see him, after everything he had done.
He shoved the thought aside — even knowing that it would return again — and forcefully brought his attention back to the book in front of him. The important thing was that Shadow be given the choice.
The symbols etched around the edge of the mirror glowed to life.
It wasn't The Mirror — that had been one of the first leads Vio had tried, but the original Dark Mirror had been shattered beyond any possible repair. This was a new mirror, forged from a few of the surviving shards, from Moon Pearl dust, from over a years' worth of careful calculations. Less of a 'fountain of darkness,' as Shadow had called the original, and more of a gateway.
It's his choice if he wants to step through or not, Vio reminded himself, as he watched his reflection disappear, replaced by swirling dark fog.
For agonizingly long moments, nothing more seemed to be happening.
Just when Vio's heart was starting to sink, the fog began to swirl faster. It seemed to become denser, more concentrated. Taking on a vaguely humanoid shape.
The smoky figure moved closer, approaching the glass. It raised an arm, the vague shape of a hand pressing against the mirror's surface.
And then pressing through.
The fog coalesced as it emerged, indistinct darkness giving way to skin and sleeve — arm, shoulder, torso.
A flash of red eyes, sudden movement, and Vio only just had time to wonder if he was about to be punched, before he was wrapped in a hug.
The force of the collision had him rocking back on his heels. Shadow's arms wound around his chest, squeezing firmly, warm and solid and alive. Vio let out a choked little noise, somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
Shadow drew back — not far, but far enough to look Vio in the eyes. "Did I hold on too tightly?" he asked, brows drawn together in concern, one hand reaching up to brush strands of hair out of Vio's face.
Vio shook his head, pressing his cheek into Shadow's palm as he did so. "No," he whispered, past the lump of emotion in his throat. "Not too tightly at all."
He wrapped his own arms around Shadow in return, dropping his head to Shadow's shoulder, and let himself hold on as hard as he wanted to.