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[Good catch. Lila's eyes narrow for a moment, right up until Mukuro corrects herself. Not great that Mukuro thought it, but it's not like she can change the way somebody thinks. Not in the way she wants to treat Mukuro. She doesn't know how to be good like that.]

[Still, it's — complicated. It's hard, and she feels weird about it, and she doesn't hide that; her expression is complicated, too.]

You already said sorry, though. Before, when we talked. You don't have to keep saying it. That's not what's bothering me.

[She sighs. Slides her feet backward into the stone of the island, then retracts them. It feels like ice-cold socks.]

You don't care what happens to you. You didn't think things through because you don't care. That's what's bothering me. I don't know how you can promise to not do it again when that part hasn't changed. You're not, like . . . you wouldn't do it on purpose. Not for attention or pity like some people might. You just don't see yourself how other people see you. And—

[Ugh. She closes her mouth. She doesn't actually want to talk shit about Riley, it's just — it's frustrating. It's frustrating, and it's not fair, and she's just gonna sound jealous and crazy anyway so she shouldn't bother. But that's not it. That's not it at all. Selfish and selfless don't go together for long without someone changing or getting used up.]

Whatever. I have trust issues, I guess.

[Well. Lila's right about most of that. Mukuro's willing to hurt or die for the people who deserve it more if it's necessary. She just - needs to get better at figuring out when that is, and what her limits here are. She opens her mouth, but - that bit about trust issues, though, that makes her pause. Head tilting to one side, she blinks, considering, before she speaks again.]

...You're not - wrong. I don't really - I don't see myself like that. I don't care if I get hurt. I've been hurt - my whole life. I can handle it.
But - I know you do. You care, and it hurts you, and that's not - I won't just let that happen. The only reason I'm okay with getting hurt is to make sure nobody else is. It's - pointless, if it's not working.
And you're not - you're not the only one. Who cares. I don't understand it but I don't want to just - throw that away.
It's too important.

[Her voice is soft and stilted, trying so hard to really communicate rather than just try to assuage any anger and sweep it all under the rug. Lila's never ever lied to her, and Mukuro's never lied to Lila. She doesn't want to ruin that just because she's anxious.
Even if the next part is the most difficult.]

So I won't - I'm going to try to be - better. I've been trying.
...I might still mess up. I'm s-- ssstill trying to learn. And I understand if that's - if it's too much.

[Because Lila deserves better than a work in progress.]

But - I promise - I'm going to keep trying. And if there's something else bothering you, I want to know, or else I can't fix it.

[As she watches Mukuro, her expression is careful. Thoughtful. It's calculating, but not in an unkind way. More than anything, she's just trying to figure this out. The way this is all playing out . . . she doesn't talk about feelings, not usually. Not before here. In this place, she can't fix things the way she usually does. She has to do it this way.]

[It kind of sucks. She doesn't know if she's getting better at it. Right now, it would be a lot easier to stop. But something's sort of clicking in her head all the same. Like she's almost got the key, the right words to crack the cipher, but not quite. Nearly there.]

If somebody who fucked up a lot was too much, I wouldn't give Komaeda the time of day. And I've dealt with way more fucked up than you, Mukuro, no offense. You're a badass and I know you have your shit, but there's a lot you'd have to do to me to even make it into the same hemisphere as what I've chosen not to put up with.

[That . . . being said. Hm. She crosses her arms in her lap, claws tapping on her thigh. How to put this?]

I believe you'll try to be better. I know you'll do that because people care about you. Lots of people do. But there are people in the world . . .

[Inhale. Through her teeth.]

There are people in the world who can care about you one minute and then the next minute, they're so deep in their own shit that even though they still care, it's like — it's like they're somewhere else. In a universe of just them and their feelings and their misery. No such thing as consequences or collateral damage. Looking out from there, they don't see anyone but themselves. And people like you, you know—

If somebody looks at you like that, from drowning in their own personal hell, and they think the only thing that'll fix it is something that hurts you, who wins? Them or me? Because you're not worried about yourself for yourself, so it's like you don't even get a vote. I know now that I have to live for me first, because people can say a lot of shit and act a different way, but that's me. That's not how you live. So what happens if one of the people who says they care whether you get hurt or not turns around and acts the opposite?

That's what freaks me out. I'm not going anywhere, and I won't, that's not what it's about. It's about you.

[Mukuro can't help almost smiling at the first bit. Between Komaeda and her, Lila really had chosen to stick with some real disasters. It really doesn't make sense to her at all but Mukuro wouldn't dream of taking it for granted.

The followup, though, makes her go very still. It's an extremely astute question, one that cuts right to the heart of the issue. Maybe without even really meaning to. Lila knows some of what she's been through, more than most people, but - not all of it. She can't know. But that exact dilemma, or something close enough to cut - Mukuro's hurt being someone else's salvation --

She swallows, closes her eyes briefly, and takes a slow breath. In and out. Takes a moment to sit, tail curled around herself.

Talking is hard. She kind of hates it, too. But she wouldn't trade what she has now for what she was before. The dead grey calm was more easily managed, but here - here it feels like she's actually breathing, living, even if it hurts.]

...I don't - know. I - when - b-before, I only ever -

[Try again. In, out. ]

Before here, I only ever had - one person. Who cared. Who - mattered, to me. And no one else - could hurt me. I told you - I never lost a fight. And that - that's true. But I never - f-fought - her.

[Her voice is very soft. She's trying. She doesn't want to talk about any of it, but Lila's trying to understand. The least Mukuro can do is give her the pieces.]

...If she needed me to hurt someone else, I would.
If she needed to hurt me - I'd let her.
There was no one else who ever cared about either of us. So it didn't matter. And I could handle it. If it helped.
But h-here - it's different. I can't just - I have to - choose. And it's hard, I never - I'm used to taking orders. I've always just listened. I never had to plan or choose or - a-anything like that.
... So I'm n-not - not good at it, yet. This was a bad choice. But no one - made me.

[so maybe next time she'll be less stupid. make a better one. not hurt her friends.]

...If I have to choose who wins - I'll pick better, next time.

[Between being forced to watch and manipulation, we all became her envoys of despair.]

[I was one of the few people that Junko didn't need to manipulate. She . . . saw me. My loneliness. She gave me what I wanted the most: a purpose.]

[This time, the look she gives Mukuro . . . it's not cold, not exactly. It's shrewd. For the first time, she looks at Mukuro like a puzzle. The thing is that she could manipulate Mukuro. She could manipulate Komaeda, too. It would be easy. They're really, really easy to read. Mukuro is an open book right now.]

[But she doesn't. She won't. That's what Cassel does. That's not her. She might be crazy, but she's not a coward, and she'll never take the coward's way out. Not even now. Not when what's being said to her makes her feel sick. If she wasn't a fucking ghost, she'd be on her knees over the toilet right now, anger and illness and wrong.]

[But she still does it. She floats over to the refrigerator. She opens it, then opens the cheese drawer. She digs around in it, pulling the few items she has out and dropping them carelessly on the counter. Her fingers are cold, but not from the fridge, when she pulls out a piece of paper and unfolds it, hands it to Mukuro in silence. Watches.]

[It says:]

Junko Enoshima
MW — Ko

[It's just a hunch. Just a hunch. But her hunches — they tend to pan out.]

[Mukuro waits. For questions, or reprimand, or - something. A reaction. But nothing comes. When she looks up, Lila's just - watching her. Looking at her in a way Lila hasn't ever before. Something's - wrong. Mukuro knows. Something in the air feels thick and heavy. She did something wrong, she said something - but before she can try to apologize, Lila turns, finds what she was looking for, and hands her an innocuous little note.

Junko Enoshima.

it feels like she can't breathe. like perfectly manicured nails digging into her heart. like she's falling, tripped, shoved down a flight of stairs with a wink and a carnivore grin. did you think you could just forget me and move on, mukuro-nee? did you think i'd make it easy? did you think you could just pretend? act like you belong? like you're not just a lost dog? pathetic worthless disappointment whatpartofyouisawolfanyway--

she hasn't moved. she hasn't said a word. she hasn't even looked away from the note. just kept very, very still, breathing very, very shallowly through her half-open mouth.
like if she moves everything will break.
because it feels like it will. and she doesn't know how to fix it.]

Edited 2021-09-24 09:00 (UTC)

[Well.]

[That answers that, doesn't it.]

[Her ears are ringing. Ringing, ringing, humming, screaming, round and round, the noise of her own trapped mind, the rustle of newspaper crunching underfoot as she paces around the inside of her prison of bone and flesh. She stands still, staring at Mukuro staring at the note, and screams around the tiny room in her head, claws digging into the wallpaper until it shreds.]

[Inside the cupboards, something explodes. Then another, another, another. She only has so many glasses, so it stops eventually. The cupboard door creaks open, and shattered glass tumbles out onto the counter.]

[Get out.]

[Liar.]

[You were never going to tell me, and neither was he.]

[I can't trust any of you. I can't trust anyone.]

[No one loves me. No one will ever love me. Not first, not best, not ever. Empty, empty, empty, crazy broken girl. Why won't you just give up? Why do you keep fucking trying?]

[She doesn't scream. She doesn't cry. She doesn't curse. She doesn't lash out.]

[Somehow, she's too angry for any of those things.]

[Instead, she breathes. Slow and deliberate. In, out. She's shaking, trembling, vacillating out of existence every time she stops concentrating for even a fraction of a second. Her self wants to be elsewhere. But she's not a coward. She never backs down.]

[The paper crumples in her hand. Voice comes out low, rough in the space between them.]

"MW" stands for memory work. That's why I had it hidden. In case someone fucked with my memory, I could find it later and try to remember. Nobody ever has before, but I've seen what it does to people. I have to be ready. I can't forget this. Not ever.

[Reaching out, she bridges the space between them, takes Mukuro's shirt in her fist, and pulls her close. Gently. So gently. Like she's made of porcelain, a beautiful kintsugi bowl, practical and desperate for filling.]

[Lila can't leave her empty. So she pours all of herself in. That is, after all, her most authentic response. She never does anything halfway.]

If anyone — ever — treats you like that again. For any reason. Any reason. I will wear their skin. I'll eat them alive. I don't care who they are. There's no forgiveness, not for that. Nobody is allowed to treat you like you're worthless, ever ever ever again.

Do you hear me, Mukuro? I mean what I say. I mean it.

Edited 2021-09-24 09:15 (UTC)

[she jumps, flinches, at every explosion, glass unable to handle the pressure and breaking into jagged, dangerous shards - just like us, mukuro-nee, we've always been broken, we can't be fixed and we'll hurt anyone who tries - she's trembling, too, like a stupid little purse dog, who's afraid of the big bad wolf? with the sound of familiar laughter in her head, and it doesn't matter that they're both long dead when the memory of her is so strong. she doesn't need the real thing when she has the echo of her, like always, like they'd traded pieces of themselves so they'd never be apart.

Lila's claws curl into the fabric of her shirt and pulls, and she can't help a shallow little gasp, wide glassy eyes lifting to focus on her face. expecting pain, expecting punishment, but entirely willing to accept it. because even if Lila's never hurt her before - that's her role. that's always been her role. mukuro is not her own person, she never has been, it's been stupid of her to pretend otherwise - she's just a disappointing copy, a hollow puppet, who exists only for what she can do for others. so she moves for her, obedient and unresisting.

but that's not what happens.

Lila tells her that's not what will ever happen. that she'll stop it, fight to protect her, and it's not like before, no one else, only me, it's righteous fury that anyone would hurt her.
she swallows, staring, and nods. something in her coils comfortably.
(hers, hers, hers)]

I hear you.

[her voice is soft, shaking, but completely sure. Lila is always, always honest with her. Lila would never say something she didn't mean. Lila's voice is real, and all her jagged edges are pointed outward.
she swallows again and speaks, trying to explain, somehow, knowing that it won't come out right but she's trying--]

I had - a piece of her - I s-sacrificed it. To the vortex, it meant everything, I wanted to - s-stay here. To - move on. K-Komaeda said we h-have to try - to be better. To - I'm trying. I'm trying, I swear, I'm trying to be better, Lila, please, [she's still trembling, blinking tears out of her eyes, ] please don't make me leave.

Edited 2021-09-24 17:13 (UTC)

[The way Mukuro is looking at her, Lila doesn't know if she understands. Maybe she hears, but she doesn't understand. When you're that scared, it's hard to really listen, hard to tease meaning out of phonemes, hard to parse human language. You beg and you bargain and you claw for freedom and safety but that doesn't always mean listening. The difference with Mukuro is she wouldn't try for those things, because she doesn't think she deserves them.]

[That's the whole point.]

[Her expression stays steely. A piece of Junko Enoshima. Komaeda said — Komaeda knew. Komaeda knew, which means Celeste must know, and that means they've all known, together, and there's ringing in her ears again, liars, liars, because Komaeda told her but he didn't talk about this part and when she thinks about it it makes sense, it wasn't his to tell, but when she stops thinking she's angry. Angry. All of her body is anger.]

[She has to make something hurt.]

[Her claws tighten, then release. She lets Mukuro go deliberately, with intention, because she wants to do damage but she doesn't want to do it to Mukuro. Mukuro who is looking at her like she's promised to do a favor, when it isn't about that at all. It isn't about protection. It's about possession. Komaeda is hers. Mukuro is hers, too. Even if they lie to her, even if they keep things from her, they belong to her, and she's never, ever going to let this happen to them again. Does Mukuro understand? Does she get it? It's not about protection. It's about putting an end to the same kind of ugliness that ripped all of their lives apart before.]

[She will kill Junko if she arrives here. She will kill Riley if she does anything like this ever again. Even if Komaeda and Mukuro and Celeste keep lying to her, even if they do, even then—]

[Static flies in the space around her. Sparks. One hits the wall and sizzles before extinguishing.]

[They belong to her. And she's not going to lose again.]

. . . I don't want you to leave.

[Despite everything, her voice is quiet. Somber.]

If you hear me and you understand and you don't want to leave, then don't. You're mine. I'm not letting you go. But only if you want that.

[Lila is still upset. Lila is like her, and being this angry makes her want to lash out. mukuro can see it, all of it, and still she stays passive and unresisting, ready to take whatever Lila thinks she deserves. whatever it takes to be forgiven.

and yet. Lila still lets her go. offers to let her leave, but doesn't want her to. "you're mine."

mukuro has never wanted nor needed to be protected by someone else. it's not a possibility in her mind. Lila's anger is righteous, even if the reason is not. And mukuro has always, always, always belonged to someone else. it's familiar, it's comfortable. and - someone who will be honest with her, rather than make her guess and punish her for being incorrect - someone who will simply tell her to follow, to act, rather than drag her around on strings - yes, of course she wants to stay. how could she not?

just a stray dog, just an obedient bitch, but she can hardly hear it anymore with Lila commanding all of her attention. she nods, staring up at her with wide wondering eyes, too humble to reach for her but sitting up in her best posture, i can be a good dog--]

Y-- yes. Yes. I want to stay.

[her voice is rasping; from emotion, from tears, from the comfortable constriction of a phantom collar around her throat--]

That's - th-that's what I chose. I want to stay. I n-never - I just didn't want to - burden anyone else.

[she stares up at the shade with wide eyes, expression desperate and open. she didn't lie, she wouldn't lie to Lila, not to her, not ever. not even about this. she wouldn't talk about it by herself, it's too raw, too close to her heart, but--]

[Didn't want . . . to burden anyone.]

[Lila doesn't understand what that's like. That instinct, it's never been in her. She's never wanted to make herself small enough that she won't bother anyone else. The world isn't enough for her, and she knows she deserves it and more. As often as she's been taken down, put in a box, squeezed into the tiniest possible shape she could manage, she's never once doubted her own right to existence. If anything, those beatdowns have just made her stronger.]

[But Mukuro isn't like that. Mukuro believes she's a burden. That people just put up with her, at best. She doesn't say it the way Cassel does. Mukuro . . . doesn't know how to manipulate anyone.]

[Komaeda does, but not like Cassel either. And he's so broken. The way he said it, he was broken long before Junko found him.]

[These facts, they make Lila feel something, but she doesn't know what it is. It just hurts, more like an absence than a presence. Like someone's cut her open just the way Steve and Komaeda were cut open, scooped her insides out, and thrown them away. The emptiness inside is something she doesn't know how to name. There's anger in it, but that isn't all.]

[She's insane, she knows she is. She knows Mukuro must know, too. All of them, their messy little group, they're all fucked up in the head. But the kind she is, she became out of her own necessity. The kind Mukuro is . . . was to meet someone else's need.]

[That's . . . not okay. It's not okay, her being small for the sake of someone outside of her. That's what Cassel wanted, even if he didn't know it; his mom did know, and she made it happen, and it echoes in Lila's ribcage even now, the love implanted in her body and her mind that had to be ripped from its moorings by force. That doesn't mean it's gone. She still has the scars, and they ache on bad days.]

[Maybe she's sad.]

[The look on her face is hard to read right now. The silence is . . . probably not comfortable for Mukuro. But there are none of the anger signs: no ozone, nothing breaking, no power surges. She's quiet, sitting on the island with one leg crossed over the other. Above, while Mukuro is below.]

You don't, [is what she murmurs eventually, lifting her chin; and as she does, she carries Mukuro along with her eyeline. The wolf lifts from her seat, rises gently and slowly. It feels weightless, but doesn't confine. If she wants to wriggle free, she can.]

[If she doesn't, Lila brings her up to eye level. Holds her there, close and focused on her alone. When she reaches out, it's — strangely tentative, like she's afraid she might break something. But in the end, she cups Mukuro's cheek in her ghostly hand and just looks at her. Just tries, as best she can, to see her.]

You don't burden anyone. You couldn't if you tried.

[it's unnerving, to have no response. to be examined so intently. but she waits, obedient as always, patient even if only in appearance. she doesn't move, save her shaking. she doesn't beg or speak at all, she won't interrupt Lila's thoughts. it feels like an eternity with just her own heartbeat in her ears but there's no better muzzle than her training, she'll wait for as long as she's required to, sit, stay, good. pathetic.

it doesn't even matter how much she hates her own weakness, her endless list of flaws - she'd write them out in her own blood just for Lila's perusal if that's what she needed. it feels like - like her heart is being weighed. she's being judged on her worthiness, on whether or not she's to be cast aside. if her life's deeds are enough to condemn or save her.

isn't that what it's always been about? trying to save herself. trying to make up for the mistake that is her life. trying to justify her own existence, make herself an asset rather than a burden, prove she's worth keeping. trying desperately and always to not disappoint. it's been part of her forever, like a collar so tight it scars, a permanent mark of neglect. and before, there was only one person who ever noticed or knew, who mattered, who saw her. now...

when Lila speaks, she feels herself lift, gravity releasing its hold on her, and there's a barely-audible inhale. but she doesn't struggle, nor does she flinch from Lila's hand. her gaze doesn't waver. she doesn't need to watch, to worry - if Lila wanted to hurt her, mukuro would let her. but if Lila wanted to hurt her, she would have already.

her touch is impossibly gentle, and Lila looks at her, and mukuro's breathing hitches again - the words she's saying, they can't be true. it's wrong. but Lila doesn't lie. and finally her own voice comes again, meant to be "i'm sorry" because it feels like it's all she's ever been, always, but instead it comes out as:]

Th-thank you.

[small and wavering, as shaky as the rest of her, but she is trying so hard to believe her.]

. . . Yeah.

[Not you're welcome. This isn't that kind of conversation. This is one of those rare moments when Lila Zacharov doesn't feel right in asserting that, yes, any attention from her deserves gratitude. It's something she believes, for the most part. But Mukuro's more than earned a permanent place beside her. There's nothing about Mukuro that's unworthy or burdensome.]

[No, there isn't. The opposite is true, isn't it? Mukuro is more worthy than almost everyone else. As much as Mukuro is loyal to Lila, it goes fiercely in the other direction, and that's much rarer. There are a fair number of people she likes here, but only two she'd count as hers. It's not a one-way relationship. Hers means hers. She protects her own. She protected Cassel, didn't she? Back before he betrayed her.]

[But Mukuro won't. She's not clouded by the gutter guards of story anymore. She knows, she can see, that Mukuro is broken, is unwell, is healing in good ways and wrong ones. She sees that, and she accepts it. She sees Mukuro's flaws, and she claims her all the same. Those aren't an excuse to treat her poorly. They're a reason to circle the wagons, to hold her close, to wrap arms around her tightly and show the world she's not alone anymore. She won't ever be again.]

[Lila guards her people jealously. Mukuro doesn't think she needs protecting, but, well. Mukuro doesn't think there's anything in herself worth protecting.]

You're okay. You don't have to thank me. We're both fucked up, right? You and me. We're the same.

[Her hand slips from Mukuro's face to her own clawed, padded one. Pulls her close by the wrist, guides her through the air to rest on the island at her side. Snug and close, hips pressed together. Hand sliding around to hook possessively around Mukuro's other side. Her head comes to rest on Mukuro's shoulder. For right now, she's solid.]

. . . You make me really happy, Mukuro. I'm never happy. The last time I was happy before I came here, I don't even know. I think I forgot how. I lost it. But there's something in you that makes it easier for me to breathe. Like magic.

[the same. mukuro would never dare to compare them, not really; Lila seems so much stronger and smarter than she could ever be. but on some level, she understands. they've both been a little less than human for a long time. different circumstances, different approaches, different outcomes, but - they both don't quite know what they're doing. just trying their best, and fervently guarding anything and anyone they manage to secure for themselves.

there's another little inhale when Lila takes her by the wrist, but she doesn't resist at all. why would she? being brought closer, being permitted to sit alongside her rather than beneath - there's no reason for her to be anything but completely pliant in the shade's spectral grasp. and when Lila tucks herself against her, the relief that floods her system is so strong that for a moment she feels faint. she isn't sure what to do, at first, but Lila's next words draw all her attention. like everything else dims, mutes, so she can better focus on what's important.

she makes Lila happy.
she makes Lila happy.

it feels unbelievable, and yet she knows it's true. it has to be, because Lila is saying it to her, and it's impossible for mukuro to trust anyone else's words more. there are many people here she's grown to care for, more than she ever thought possible, so many it feels overwhelming sometimes - but Lila, Lila, she's the only one who's never once been hard to understand. she's never said something she didn't mean, she's never tried to spare anyone's feelings by hiding the truth, she's never made mukuro try to guess how she's feeling or what she needs. mukuro has always been able to trust everything Lila's ever said to her. she's proven it over and over and over. just because mukuro is so used to being useless - her own failings aren't an excuse to doubt her now. and it feels almost sacrilegious, to touch her without being invited, but it isn't fair for Lila to be the only one trying to bridge the gap.

so. she turns her head, tucking her snout down to nose at her. her tail curls around the both of them. and she reaches, finally, for Lila's available hand, to lace their fingers together again. careful, and hesitant, but trying.]

...You make me happy, too.
You've always been - nice to me, Lila.
I'm n-not - I've never been - scared of you.

[her voice is very quiet. almost a whisper. it's a hard thing to admit.
she's resigned to handle whatever comes her way. she's willing to endure the worst kinds of pain for the sake of others. she's willing to die, if she has to, even moreso now that she knows she'll come back. all her life she's had to be strong, brave, emotionless. but the fear is always there, even if it's buried deep, deep down.]

Edited 2021-09-30 08:00 (UTC)

[She's still angry. Sadness is starting to eclipse her anger, but only just. Despite that, she feels herself connected to things other than her own feelings. This is her apartment, her kitchen, her island, her Mukuro — and a warm nose connecting her to all of the above. Coming back to herself when Mukuro nuzzles her is starting to feel automatic. It's a signal. It tells her that she's loved, despite all the odds.]

[When Mukuro noses at her, she responds immediately, instinctively, turning to meet the gesture and gently headbutt her, then rub her cheek and temple against Mukuro's jaw. That big fluffy tail tucks around them both; the cloud of her hair in turn surges forward in the almost-no-space between them and clings like static to Mukuro's throat and shoulders and face. Every tiny piece of Lila wants to be close to every tiny piece of Mukuro.]

[When her hand is taken, she slides her fingers into the wolf's grip instantly. Squeezes. Isn't going anywhere. Tucks her face under Mukuro's jaw and lets out a sharp breath, some pain in her chest releasing.]

Mm. Good. I don't want you to be scared of me.

[She never has. And why is that? What about Mukuro always felt easy to understand? Well, at the beginning it was because she was easy to read. Lila knew she could manipulate Mukuro if she had to. But she never ended up doing that, and things got so much deeper than that so quickly.]

[Maybe . . . she knows why. Maybe it's not so complicated.]

I want people to be scared of me so they don't hurt me. But you won't, ever. So there's nothing for either of us to be scared of.

[That's how it works, right? That's how it is with somebody you care about. They won't ever trap you. They won't ever back you into a corner. So it's okay not to be scared all the time. That's safe.]

[there it is again, that catlike response to her own wolf affection. the static cling of her hair is another story, and Mukuro can't help an amused little huff, blowing some of the shadowy tendrils away from her nose. it's a strange feeling, tingly, almost like spiderwebs but much sweeter. feeling that tight grip on her hand in return, how Lila hides her face against her and breathes - god, she's so glad she made the right move. after being so caught off-guard, so scared she'd ruined everything - then being accepted, despite it all, and claimed so clearly - so many emotions in such a short amount of time. she still feels a little raw. there are still tremors running through her, every so often.

she can feel tears gathering at the corners of her eyes again, too, as Lila speaks. Lila's done this before, shown her weaknesses to Mukuro, because she knows Mukuro won't use them against her. but it's different, hearing it. hearing that. that Lila is scared of people hurting her, that she wants people to fear her so they won't. just like Mukuro had.

(and Junko. but she doesn't think Junko would have ever admitted it.)

her chest feels tight. but not - not in the way she's used to, choking and anxious. more like it's too full. she doesn't hesitate, this time. just reaches to try and scoop Lila right into her lap, to wrap her arms around her and pull her close against her - she knows, it's easier to accept what's offered than ever ask for something yourself. she understands. just like Lila understands her, and that she won't ever, ever hurt her--]

Never.

[it's little more than a breath, but her devotion is obvious all the same. she eases back from the hug just enough to look into Lila's face, eyes bright and focused despite it all.]

I - I promised, remember...? That I'd stay.
I'm yours, and - you're mine, too. For as long as you want me.

[In any other place, in any other company, being grabbed like that would make her start at best, lash out at worst. Her claws are sharp and ready to defend her; there are so many teeth in her mouth, and she knows how to use them. She's confident that she could beat most other monsters in a fight if she had to, a fact that's slowly but surely creeping up on her the longer she remains in this body. There are major benefits to having an opt-in relationship with corporeality.]

[When Mukuro grabs her, she doesn't even tense up. Her reaction is almost lazy, even though her heart rate speeds up, her eyes go wide. Mukuro grabs her and moves her and holds her, and Lila's . . . surprised, but also not. Is it so strange, really? Mukuro wants to be close, especially when things feel strange and difficult and dangerous. She wants comfort just like anyone else. It's just that she trusts so few people to safely provide it.]

[That's another way they're the same. One more way at the bottom of an ever-growing list.]

[Lila isn't thinking about that list now, though. Not with arms around her and her face still tucked against Mukuro's throat despite the shift in position. Her own arms settle naturally around Mukuro's neck, fingers clasping loosely together at the nape as though the idea of being let go is so unrealistic she's got no need to tightly hold on. She's a ragdoll, limp in Mukuro's arms, knees pressed tight to outside of her thighs.]

[When Mukuro pulls back to look at her, Lila looks back, blinking slowly, calm and content. As agitated as she was a few minutes ago, this feels so correct that she's calmed down entirely. She's where she needs to be.]

[So is Mukuro, who promised. They both promised. There's a leash here, but it goes two ways, and she . . . takes her responsibility seriously.]

[The only tell is the way Lila's hands shift. They separate, and one comes to curl in the fabric at Mukuro's shoulder, the other sinks deep into the thick hair-and-fur at the nape of her neck. That's the only indication that something's going to happen before Lila's stretching up, the whole line of her body pressed close as she kisses Mukuro — soft and staticky and lingering.]

[Perfect moments don't exist. But she likes this one pretty well.]

Edited 2021-10-04 07:52 (UTC)

[she's ready, in case Lila bats her away or resists, but it doesn't happen. she lets Mukuro pull her in, and loops her arms around her neck - and Lila's quiet, but that slow cat-blink tells her everything she needs to know. it's okay. she's okay. she's happy. Mukuro's doing the right things. her ears perk up as Lila lets go of her hand, instead curling her fingers into her mane, and she can't help another little wag at how nice it feels -

somehow, she isn't expecting it.

there's a tiny gasp, just before Lila connects, and then - it's like - like when you turn off an old television, how it flashes and then contracts to one bright circle in the center of the dimming screen. everything else is faded. a shiver runs through her, fur fluffing up as if from the static of the screen. her mind is mostly blank except that low electric hum and she can't tell if it's real or imagined but it doesn't matter. nothing else matters. her focus has narrowed to just this, just now. just Lila. she accepts it tamely, doing her best to make it easier, even as her heartbeat speeds out of rhythm. she holds Lila just a little tighter, curls her tail up and around them both like a shield, and lets her eyes close.

later, she'll be impressed and kind of awed that Lila just went for it, despite the unfamiliarity of dealing with a snout. it's a marvel to her that Lila would want to do this at all with someone like her, especially now, beastly thing that she is. but right now she can't think about that, about how everything about her has always been wrong, how no one else is ever supposed to care about her or treat her like this - because Lila is, and there's no room in her head for doubt or fear or anything but her.]

[Mukuro's really cute.]

[Not that it's the first time she's thought that. She doesn't even know when the first time is. It snuck up on her, but it lives in her freely and openly now: that Mukuro is cute like this, cute on the Fog, cute in the daytime with her big ears and her sharp teeth. Mukuro's really cute in the moment before Lila kisses her, breath catching like she didn't expect it, like Lila isn't always thinking about whether this is the right moment, or this one, or what about now. Like she's not always thinking about loving Mukuro somehow. Doesn't matter what state she's in.]

[This place has done something to her. Made her greedier, or made her heart bigger, or opened her up somehow. This girl is hers, she thinks, and no one can ever hurt her again. Mukuro's the big bad wolf, but she's the scary one, and that's good, because — because Mukuro needs somebody to take care of her, sometimes.]

[It's different, kind of, and kind of isn't. Everything about this fits Mukuro and fits them. She presses as close to Mukuro on her lap as she can manage, fitting herself flush and stubbornly refusing to let go. After a few moments she remembers her claws and starts moving them, scratching the nape of Mukuro's neck as she grins against her mouth, not really stopping at all when she speaks. Words can do what they want, but they can't make her let go.]

I'm yours, right?

[There's something in her voice that sounds kind of like prove it.]

[She can't think. She can't even really breathe, she's still like she thinks she might wake up if she moves wrong. And yet. She can feel her heartbeat quick in her chest, the way her fur's spiked up along her spine, the warm-cool shape of her pressed close. This is real. She is real. She feels realer than she's maybe ever been. More alive. It's like Lila's made of thrumming electricity, like she's poured herself into her mouth, coiled around her heart to better send sparks down her spine -

There's another shallow gasp when Lila digs her claws into her mane. Not to hurt, it doesn't hurt - she knows it could, and that it won't, and that makes it even sweeter. When Lila speaks, Mukuro shivers. Beautiful terrible carnivore girl, hungry enough to swallow her heart, but - it's not - like that. This feels - safe, even with her heart speeding out of rhythm and the adrenalin in her veins. Even though this isn't what she'd ever have expected, after everything. It's right.

Mukuro doesn't answer with words. She doesn't think she even could, but that's fine, she doesn't have to. Lila understands her, even when she's stammering or speechless. So. She simply tilts her head slightly and leans to return the kiss, tame and gentle but, for once, not hesitant. There's no sense of uncertainty when she slips one hand into the shadow-shock of her hair, holding her close - nor even when she grazes her fangs over Lila's lower lip, just barely, so very, very careful not to hurt. Lila is hers, and she is Lila's, and it feels so obvious even she can't overthink it.]

[There’s a difference between Mukuro and Komaeda. There are thousands of differences — but to Lila, the greatest difference is this: at the same time she wants to love Komaeda, she wants to hurt him, because she knows instinctively that he’d enjoy it. He blooms under her less-gentle touches, flushes when she bullies him, never crowds her space and never protests when she crowds his. For him, she wants to be unkind.]

[For Mukuro, she wants to be soft. Softness is harder. It’s not something she’s ever had permission to be, much less practice in being. From birth she’s been taught to have her claws out, and it seeped into her psyche in too, too many ways. But there is no power dynamic with Mukuro. They’re equal. The only person with the power to change it, to twist it and make it wrong, is Lila, and she won’t. She can’t. She could never.]

[She wants to be soft for Mukuro, sweet and a little bit sour, but not so much as to hurt. She wants to make her home in Mukuro’s heart, but gently, not kindly because that’s too far to push but with all the aching tenderness she can scrounge from her empty unbody. She gives herself to Mukuro — I’m yours — like permission, like a question, like a gift, except she’s not giving anything at all. It’s been true since long before she said it out loud. Even if Mukuro didn’t know, she did.]

[When Mukuro kisses her back, she makes a sound, warm and rolling, like a purr and a hum and a laugh mixed together. Eager as she is to respond, she holds herself back, lets Mukuro carry her along in her own way. She’s Mukuro’s. She wants to know what it means to be Mukuro’s, underneath it all. The way people touch means everything. What people do with their hands and their mouths and their bodies — that’s honesty.]

[And Mukuro buries a hand in her hair, which uncoils, sparking at the end, and re-coils gently around her wrist, cool and soft, surprisingly similar in texture to human hair underneath the static of it all. That sound comes again, more surprised but still very pleased, when Mukuro’s fangs happen to her. So gentle. That’s right. Mukuro wants to be soft for her, too.]

[She feels so much, she thinks she might explode.]

[The tip of her tongue chases Mukuro’s teeth as they pull away; she crowds in close for more, not giving any chance to breathe, demanding and insistent. Mine, mine, mine, the drumbeat at the back of her mind, but it’s not the beat of obsession for once, just possession. Her heart is too full to handle, and this is the only way she knows to explain.]

[--Oh, that's a nice sound.

Her ears flit forward, straining for more, every part of her alert and eager. She didn't even have time to second-guess her choices, Lila's responses are so quick and encouraging. It's something she wonders at, distantly, in the back of her mind. This level of freedom is new and overwhelming; Mukuro has never been given free reign like this. She's been trained to accept, not initiate. She'd be kind of terrified, if it was anything but this - anyone but Lila, who keeps making pleased, encouraging noises, chasing away doubts before they have any time to fully form. Even then, Mukuro's heart is fluttering like hummingbird wings in her chest, so quick and strong even Lila can probably feel it - but even that thought doesn't embarrass her like it should.

It's not dangerous for Lila to know how she feels, it's not a flaw or a weakness for Mukuro to be obvious in how she wants - she's glad to prove how committed she is, more than anything. It's another trait they share without knowing, the thought that bodies are far more honest than words. She can say she's Lila's all she likes, but there's nothing more convincing than proving it.

So when Lila demands more, Mukuro is more than happy to provide, even as a noise of pleased surprise escapes her, too. She's pliant and open, as she always is for Lila, but she meets all of Lila's enthusiasm with her own to match. Mukuro belongs to her as much and as long as Lila wants her, and she'll do her best to not disappoint. Lila chases, and Mukuro lets herself be caught, closing her eyes into another lingering kiss. She's careful, doing her best not to be clumsy despite her snout, easing into using this new shape in a much softer way than she has so far. She's crushed bones in these jaws, and yet, every time her mouth meets Lila's is gentle. Her next breath out carries a faint whine, at once canine and girl, plaintive and reverent.]

[They're talking, really. All of this is just a conversation, hushed and heated, fervent and sweet in a language they're creating as they go. Once again, it's a different language than the one Lila's used to. That's a good thing; that means it's as new to her as it is to Mukuro. They can learn together. That's good.]

[What she's learning is that she actually really, really likes kissing Mukuro like this. It's different, and she's desperately curious, starving-curious, to kiss her during the daytime — but this, this is different and breathless and lovely, the more she learns the muzzle's shape and angles. So far, her favorite thing is the teeth. Every time they break even slightly, she slips her tongue out to taste the tip of Mukuro's canines, whichever one is closer, relishing the implication of strength, of power that presses at her tongue, knowing that Mukuro could hurt her, knowing that she won't, not ever. Knowing that, if she ever wanted it, Mukuro could hold her still, safe, secure, unable to move.]

[That's not the kind of thing she's ever thought about before. She doesn't like people having power over her. But this is — it's different. It's Mukuro, it's different. Nothing bad will ever, ever happen to her in Mukuro's arms, and that's so freeing it feels like inhaling for the first time. Like doors opening. Like freefalling with a parachute.]

[Soft whining in her ear brings her settling deep into the moment. Literally: she settles more securely into her body, weight resting heavier on Mukuro's lap. The more present she feels, the more she squirms, breath coming out in a sharp huff that's something like impatience, gimme gimme gimme, and something like longing, hold me hold me hold me. Her mind is flying. She wants a hundred things at once.]

Muku—

[She leans her whole body against Mukuro's chest, their breath warm and indistinguishable. Her claws scrape against the back of the wolf's neck, deliberately scratching, a rhythmic movement as grounding for her as she wants it to be for Mukuro.]

You're so good. So good, so good, so so so . . .

[It dissolves into mumbling, which devolves into another kiss. She's not interested in stopping. She doesn't do stopping.]

[Everything about this is different.

She knows that at first it had been the similarities that drew her in. When Mukuro was newly arrived, her one connection forcibly and freshly severed, panicked and desperate - this girl was the first to remind her, even a little bit, of what she'd lost. But even in that first meeting there were differences - Lila was confident, but not cruel. Even if she had the ability to be, she hadn't been. She spoke straightforwardly, always saying exactly what she meant. She didn't get upset or mock her, when Mukuro stumbled; she never took any of the conversational knives Mukuro kept accidentally handing her. Even from the very beginning she'd told Mukuro to make her own choices. "If you don't like your name, pick a new one." She'd always chosen to be kind to Mukuro. And Mukuro knows it was a choice, she knew even then that kindness doesn't come easily to her, but Lila kept doing it every time - and she was always honest, until it became second nature for Mukuro to trust her. Until Mukuro was more than willing to serve and sacrifice, the same as she would for any of the ones she really cared about, and even then Lila never misused that.

And - even now. Even with claws and fangs, even with so many, many ways to hurt her, Lila isn't. She could, and Mukuro would let her - gladly, humbly, gratefully - but she isn't, and it's such an immediate, stark difference from all her past experiences. Even aside from the physical - the praise makes her heart thrill ever higher, sends pleased sparks of satisfaction through her, makes her want to do anything and everything she can to hear more, more, more - it feels almost selfish, greedy to want so much, she knows she's never deserved it - except Lila thinks she does, and who is she to argue? How could Mukuro ever even dream of doubting her? It's the same reason she isn't scared. This is all new, down to the basics - she can't even claim any expertise with this body, or with her partner's. There are so many ways she could fail - except it doesn't feel like that, really. Not with Lila encouraging her every step of the way, with everything she is - every little noise, every inch of herself pressed close, eager and hungry and telling her she's good.

God, she wants so badly to be good for her.

Her tail's wagging so rapidly she's almost shaking - no, she is shaking, just a little, and her breathing's coming in shallow little pants, and there's heat coiled low in her belly and she feels more alive than she can remember being - the next kiss draws another sound out of her, plaintive and needy, and when they part she has to inhale sharply before she can rasp,]

Lila, [breathless and reverent, claws curled so carefully around her to keep her close,] I - hhh - h-how - tell me what you want, please, I - anything, anything, I just--

[She'd give her the world if she could. She's not thinking of anything but Lila, in this moment. Just her, all-encompassing.]

[Lila's shaking, too. The two of them quivering, slightly out of time, breathing rough and fast like it's a marathon. A fight. A dance. She's never been much of a dancer, but that's what this feels like, she thinks; she leads and Mukuro follows and then, suddenly, Mukuro's leading. Even if just for a moment.]

[And Lila finds she doesn't mind. More than that, she shudders underneath it, Mukuro's words wrapping around her like hands on her body, like the body heat she's suddenly so desperate for. Tell me what you want, Mukuro begs, and she shakes her head, uncertain, because the answer is—]

Everything.

[It comes out on a long, whined exhale, her head falling forward gently to rest their foreheads together. This isn't a helpful answer, she knows, but it's all she can manage for a moment. Her instincts are all messed up. If it was a guy she wouldn't care, she'd just take what she wanted, but with a girl she finds herself unsure if it's too much, too fast. If it's going to make her look bad skmehow. At the same time, she can't doubt Mukuro, she never has. And then again she's desperate. She wants to feel so, so badly. And Mukuro is so good at reminding her how real she is.]

[What comes out, ultimately, is a shaky,] It's okay? [a breathless request for reassurance. In the same instant she solidifies still further, although just verging on all the way, because all the way means making a decision about clothes, and she can't, not yet. It's a lot. And she knows what she wants, but—]

Touch me? Like— [A pulse of red flashes through her, lingers, beating warm in her core. Her mouth hangs open slightly, panting, knees squeezing tight around Mukuro's thighs.] It — at the dance, the thing, you know — just touching me was—

[Everything. Too much and not enough. She fumbles.]

I want everything. But can you just touch me?

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cw: junko (abusive relationships)

cw emeto

cw: all of it (abusive relationships)

cw gory imagery

cw: skewed sense of self worth???

cw unhealthy relationship dynamics,,,

cw: mukuro responding very positively to unhealthy relationship dynamics, because, gestures

cw loss of bodily autonomy, brainwashing/emotional control, abusive relationship

cw: more unhealthy relationship stuff and also just, Unwell, In General,

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