CW: Explicit language, graphic violence, a hint of dub-con, mentions of drug abuse/addiction.
Lovely Vex is the creation of Funny2333 for the Top Donor Inksgiving Reward over at Tapas ^_^ Thank you so much Funny for your support! I hope I did Vex justice (even if I did kill him in a brutal fashion…)
A light precipitation soaks Hanjuyang, painting the landscape with mottled greys and weeping blues. The city moves slowly in the rare late-summer chill, like the drifting currents of the river, lethargic strokes. A depression settles, dreary echoes from the bloodshed a few days prior. The ill-kept graveyard in the Slums has many more residents this day, the scent of petrichor and freshly turned soil engulfing the district.
On the outskirts of the city, there are scattered taverns and gambling halls that sit just beyond the jurisdiction of the local Silverswords. This blindspot serves as a safe haven for those not even the Slums will welcome.
Outside one of these disreputable taverns, a slight figure lingers by a window, silently peering inside. Rain drips from the hem of his hood, which is tugged low over his face. Nothing but a delicate jawline and a pair of rosy lips can be seen.
“Can you see him?” The figure says quietly, though to the outsider, he stands with no other person.
He tilts his head, as if listening to someone speak, then he scans the tavern once more. A small jolt when he spots what he’s looking for. Or rather, who he’s looking for.
The hooded figure sighs and trudges inside, slipping off his hood as he does so.
Several pairs of eyes flicker to the door that swings shut, blocking out the chill and the rain. There, they would see a slender youth with tumbling lengths of sable hair that fall across one side of his face. He appears quite weary and ragged in appearance, though that does little to hide his charm.
Rin spies an empty table close to the fireplace – and more importantly, within the eyeline of an impressively tall, gloomy looking man sat with several less-impressive clones. They seem to be eating their evening meal and drinking violet wine, the general air about them heavy with grim austerity.
The youth orders a bottle of River Wine and a light snack of sweetmeats before seating himself at the empty table. His spectral companion sits opposite, trying to grasp the bottle to no avail.
“You can’t touch anything,” Rin says under his breath, shifting the bottle out of his companion’s reach. “Let alone have a drink.”
Vex slumps and drops his chin in his hands. There’s a flicker of envy as he watches Rin pour himself a generous cup of wine. “Yeah well, that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try!”
The living human rolls his eye and tugs off his cloak. He folds it into a tight bundle and slips it into his rucksack.
“If Crow’s up and about, then he must have been healed by elixir, right?” Vex muses, eyeing the other table.
“Mn. Seems like it. Or maybe he’s just immortal.” Rin smirks when Vex twists his face, aghast. “Immortal or not, he’s got an appetite just like anyone else.”
“What if you can’t seduce him?” Vex blinks wide-eyed at the raven.
“As long as I can figure out what he’s greedy for, I can always turn myself into bait.” Rin mumbles into his cup, keeping his voice well below the ambience of the tavern. “And then I can get rid of him so that you can piss off to the underworld. Everyone wins.”
“Everyone except Crow.”
“Why do you want him gone so bad anyway?”
“When I was a Southern Jackal, we used to clash with Crow and his Flock. He’s killed almost everyone I’d ever cared about.” The spectre’s grin shrinks, but he maintains a semblance of performative mirth. Always the sunny, chipper persona. “He’s not someone I wanna leave behind in this world, alive and well. If I’m going to the underworld, then he’s coming with me.”
Rin grunts and takes a sip of his wine. He glances over at Crow’s table, making sure to catch the man’s eyes as he licks his blue tinged lips. There’s a subtle twitch in Crow’s pale cheek before he quickly drops his gaze to his rice bowl.
The youth leans his elbows on the table, idly swirling his wine. He thinks about his little lord, who is surely tearing his hair out in worry by now. Rin left him a note as he set off before dawn, but he’d kept it intentionally vague. If Jun figures out his motives, then he wouldn’t hesitate to track him down.
A light tap upon his shoulder drags him from his thoughts.
He cocks his head to the side, peering up at the tawny Fledgeling. Black robes shroud their small figure and their sunken eyes give them a rather haunted aura.
Rin grimaces, “You’re not here to take my soul to the underworld, are you?”
The Fledgeling blinks at him. “Crow would like to invite you for a drink,” they say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Crow? Who’s that?” Rin angles his body forward to peer at the other table. Crow dips his head politely at the youth and raises his glass of wine.
“Hm. I suppose he’s not too bad looking,” Rin hums, snatching up his bottle and cup. “Why not?”
He follows the Fledgeling back to their table and he brazenly squeezes himself in beside their leader. “Thanks for the invite, pet,” he purrs, splashing more wine into his cup. He presses himself into the man’s side. There’s an uncanny frigidity in his body, as if he were sucking the very heat out of Rin’s flesh. “I was starting to get a bit lonely over there. Whaddya drinking?”
Crow glares down at the raven for a time before offering his glass.
Rin gives him a coy smile as he takes the glass and drains the entire thing in one go. He smacks his lips loudly and refills the glass for his date. “That’s sweeter than I’d expected,” he hums, peering up at the man with a wide eye. “So you have a sweet tooth, hm?”
Crow presses his lips together. He gives a subtle nod. “I do enjoy sweets, yes.” He speaks quietly, yet his baritone voice seems to rumble like thunder. “What is your name?”
“Subin~” Rin lilts, sliding the refilled glass over. His fingertips brush against the other’s hand. “Your hand is so cold. Let me warm it up for you.” He plucks Crow’s hand off the table and wraps his own around in a hot cocoon. The taller man intakes softly in surprise. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” he says, smile turned saccharine.
The gloomy man angles his body towards Rin, his stare dropping like a boulder upon his smaller form. “You do not seem like the kind of person who belongs here.”
“Oh?” Rin watches Vex attack the Fledgelings, violently thrusting his ghostly fists and feet at their statuesque forms. He stifles a laugh and lifts his eye to meet Crow’s. “What kinda person do I seem like, then?”
“That, I would like to find out,” Crow says, a shadow of a smile touching his thin lips.
“And what about you, pet? Why are you in a place like this?”
“Crow.”
“Hm?”
“You can call me Crow.”
Rin raises a brow and hums, as if he were impressed by the name. “Crow, huh? That’s a perfect name for you. What with your beautiful black feathers and all…” He teases, stroking the long sleeve of the other’s signature midnight robes.
“Have you not heard of me?” Crow asks, gaze turned a tad narrow.
“I can’t say I have. Why? Should I have heard of you?”
“Me and my Flock are known throughout the three districts. It is odd that you have not heard of me.”
“I’m a drifter,” Rin shrugs, pressing his body closer into Crow’s side. He peers up at him with an innocent expression. “Always on the move, you know? But I’m sure you’re a man worth knowing.”
There’s a moment of scrutiny before the gloomy guy relaxes and nods. “That I am.”
“So…why don’t we get to know each other? Just you and me?” With his eye latched onto Crow’s hawkish, predatory stare, Rin raises the man’s hand and grazes his lips over his knuckles.
Crow intakes lightly. “We should take this somewhere more private.”
The Fledgelings don’t react when their leader and his new arm candy leave the tavern to go upstairs. Aside from a careful pat down to ensure that he isn’t holding any weapons, Rin is given unfettered access to the Flock’s god.
In Crow’s rented room, Rin throws himself onto the bed and sprawls out with a sigh. Despite his odd visage and reputation, Crow is a man like any other with appetites that are far too mundane for Rin’s liking. Regardless, at least his task will be relatively easy to fulfil.
This god will be dead long before sunrise.
“Would you like more to drink?” the gloomy guy raises, sitting a tad awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He seems somewhat nervous, glancing every now and then to the door as if he were contemplating running.
Rin sits up on his knees and shuffles over, sliding his arms around the man from behind. He rests his chin on the latter’s shoulder, shortening the gap between their faces. “You’re not used to this, are you, pet?” he croons, puffing hotly in Crow’s ear.
The man stiffens in shock. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple.
“You were so confident downstairs,” Rin continues, flicking out his tongue to catch the bead of sweat. “What happened?”
Crow’s cheeks flush faintly. He sideglances his companion of the night, coal black eyes glittering. “I know what I want. However…”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Ejgfis.”
“Pr la j ubbv atlcu?”
“…Tfr.” Jgbk rklnfir, gfjmtlcu bea ab ugjrq atf sbeat ys tlr kjlra. Lf aeur tlw lcab tlr jgwr, bcf mblifv jgbecv ilxf j yfia, atf batfg mgjvilcu atf yjmx bo tlr tfjv.
Rin stares up at him, his hair falling from his face to expose his eyepatch and ruined skin.
Instead of flinching away, Crow gazes back at him, evenly, undeterred. His dark aura suffocates the air between them like thick woodsmoke. Rich and tantalising.
“I know you.” Crow smiles and lowers his head to nose the creamy column of Rin’s neck. The latter intakes sharply and grabs the man’s shoulders. “Are you here to kill me or join me?” Hard, thin lips press upon his skin, leaving a burning mark.
Rin pants and squirms, making a blind grab for the guy’s collar. “What do you think, pet? Am I capable of killing you? A god?”
“A god…” Crow raises his head to peer into Rin’s narrowed eye. He sees the red seeping into the abyssal depth. “Is that how you see me, Marchioness?”
“Isn’t that how you fashioned yourself? As a god to your Flock?”
“Hm. It is far more pleasant coming from your mouth.”
“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing of this mouth yet.” Rin rears forward and bites Crow’s bottom lip, drawing blood. The latter growls and flinches back, releasing his prey to clutch at his face.
The raven strikes Crow’s face, knocking him onto his back. In the same motion, he flicks his hand and stabs a needle into the side of his neck.
Crow’s eyes glaze over as the toxin works through his body, rendering him weak and unable to move. A succession of rare emotion flashes across his bleak visage, shock, rage, terror, desperation, until finally settling on his default apathy. Only this time, it’s of the hollow kind, one of the dead who are self-aware, and would rather surrender than fight in futility.
It is Crow’s profound strength that lends him this silent acceptance. Perhaps, it’s apropos – for the one time he shows a human weakness, he is shown his mortality. This is how it should be for his end. A taste of the kind.
And to die in such an intimate way would not be too bad, after all.
Rin straddles the paralysed man, knees pinning his arms to the bed, and his hands wrapped around his throat.
There is no fear in Crow’s bloodied face as he gazes up at Rin. “Is this for him?” he whispers through barely moving lips. “Your Marquis?”
“Maybe I just get off on this. Killing gods.” Rin giggles and squeezes his victim’s neck, feeling the muscles pulse and twitch under his palms. “And maybe I’m just a little pissed that you killed someone who never should’ve been killed.”
A pair of spectral hands slide over his own. They curl around, pressed flush against the back of his palms. His fingers. Miming a squeeze, as if they were the very hands throttling the life from Crow.
***
He avoids looking at the stiff figure lying prone upon the bed.
Every time his eye flits too close to that area, he breaks out in a fresh sheen of cold sweat. He’s half-convinced that the figure will sit up and scream bloody murder – though logic dictates that this cannot be the case. Crow is well and truly dead. Well and truly.
Rin numbly gathers whatever he can from Crow’s cloak. A rather light coin purse. A cheap ring affixed with an onyx stone. A stick of charcoal. And a small notebook of rough sketches. Though smeared, the damage does little to hide the sheer talent of the artist. There are sketches of the same face on every page, over and over again, obsessive in their rendering. A face that’s painfully familiar with phoenix eyes and cloying smile.
The raven doesn’t linger too long. The more he looks, the worse he feels.
He exits through the window, hood tugged low over his face, and Vex accompanies him back to the Temple. Neither say a word.
Along the way, Rin tosses Crow’s things into the river, coin purse included. Only then, does the tightness in his chest give enough for him to breathe. Though the sickness roils and churns away inside, sapping his strength and colour with every stumbled step.
The sun’s beginning to rise by the time he reaches the Temple. He trudges through the courtyard, ignoring the few Hounds who are up this early. Something in his expression must have warned them away, for none dare to speak to him as he passes through. He ignores the Marquis, who is deep in Slowane intoxication and deeper still inside a writhing white collar. He ignores Jun, who is sitting on the edge of his cot, fully dressed and travel worn, like he’d returned from a day of searching.
Rin collapses onto his cot, already fading out of consciousness when his head hits his pillow. The sickness looms. It encompasses his entire being. He lets himself fall into oblivion, hoping that when he awakes, this day will be wiped from his memory.
The last thing he senses are his little lord’s hands, laid gently upon his back. But he takes no comfort from his warmth.
***
The next day, Fledgelings show up at the Temple, looking to defect. They drop to their knees outside the gate, in a single straight line, grim in their surrender. Not only had they lost the battle, but they had also lost their leader, their god. Now, their only options are to betray their comrades and join the victors, or decay on the streets along with the fallen.
Those with a sense of self-preservation chose the former.
The Hounds are restless, angry, confused. The Marquis is deep in the throes of his high, coupled with drink, and so he’s passed out in a stupor. Thus, Princess, his favoured Hound, takes over as the representative head of the Pack – but not many are pleased with his decision.
“If we let them in, that’s twenty more Hounds to pad our numbers,” Princess grunts, stroking his chin as the Marquis so often does. “We lost a lot of people. We need more.”
“How can we trust them? There’s already traitors in our midst. This is just adding fuel to the fire!”
“We’ll wheedle the traitors out. But the big man is right – we need more Hounds. We ain’t gonna be able to protect our territory with our current numbers.”
“Do you hear yourselves? Chika is dead. Smith is dead. So is Gibby, Kiki, and Rosa! And you know who killed them? Those fuckers right there!”
“If you let ‘em in, I’m gonna kill ‘em all in their sleep!”
“You’re not killing anyone,” Princess growls, hitting the bloodthirsty Hound upside the head. “If you touch even a single feather, I’m throwing you out on your ass.”
“So much for Pack loyalty!”
“Who put Princess in charge, anyway?”
“Where’s the boss? He wouldn’t stand for this shit!”
“He can’t stand at all.”
“We ain’t letting ‘em in!”
Jun comes hurrying out, towel slung around his neck as he’d been winding down from cutting a heap of wood. In tow is Rin, bleary eyed and dry mouthed, bare feet stumbling across the ground as he’s pulled along by hand.
The raven has Crow’s death lingering upon his body, in his sickly pallour and his sluggish, depressive presentation. But for the most part, he seems well rested and largely unbothered by the event. Where he’d expected a night of soul-rattling nightmares of the existential kind, he instead found hours of sorely needed rest.
“We beg of you sanctuary.” The speaker for the Fledgelings bows their head in imploration. The rest of the Flock follows, hood casting shadows across their features and somehow magnifying the austerity of this display. “We may have been enemies on the battlefield, but today we come to you as allies. We are strong, in numbers and in combat, and we do not require much resources. It is not uncommon for us to fast, so we need only feed every so often.”
This sends an uneasiness through the Pack. While the Marquis is a questionable leader at best, he still has the mind to keep his Hounds well fed and watered. The coin is also divvied fairly and rewards are lavished when it has been earned. Crow, however, seemed to thrive on depriving his Flock on their most basic needs.
“No wonder you’re all such gloomy fuckers,” Rin yawns, rubbing his nape as he joins the group. “I’m an intolerable bitch if I go one day without food. So really, this explains a lot.”
He throws a smirk at Jun who simply returns with a worried frown.
“They are wounded. And I see a few who can barely stay upright.” The little lord turns to Princess, brows furrowed. “Whatever decision you make, please allow me to treat them first. Surely we can afford them a short time to recover from their injuries.”
Before Princess can respond, jeers and angered barks meet Jun’s imploration. He presses his lips together in a thin line and glances at the Flock, conflicting emotions flickering in his gaze.
These are, after all, the people who killed Vex.
When the speaker of the Flock raises their head, they look to the kindly Hound who had expressed concern for their welfare. And inevitably, their gaze slides to the raven standing beside.
“You!” The speaker leaps to their feet, apoplectic with rage. “It’s you! What are you–” They stagger back, reeling, hands shaking as they whip out their curved daggers. “You were a Hound?”
A few others who recognise Rin mirror the speaker’s actions, jumping to their feet and arming themselves.
Rin takes a moment to consider them, lingering on the speaker, and slowly, he comes to recognise this Fledgeling as the one who relayed Crow’s invitation.
Cold sweat springs to every pore, drenching him in mere seconds. He lets out a loud laugh, forced and a tad hysterical. “What? I think you have me mistaken with someone else, pet.”
“There’s no mistake!” the Fledgeling hisses, inching forwards with his enraged brethren. “You were there yesterday. At the tavern.”
Rin feels countless pairs of eyes boring into him. He laughs again, trying to ignore Jun’s questioning look.
“What tavern? Oh, you mean Sweet Brier Inn? Yeah, yeah I was there. Getting pissed up as usual.”
The speaker seethes, black cloak billowing violently in the wind. Their deep-set eyes are stark and wrathful. “I know it was you. I could never forget your face, even if you were in disguise.”
“Disguise? Pet, why would I ever want to disguise a face like this?” Rin flips his hair over his shoulder, turning his scarred visage this way and that as if he were posing for a client. He tries to calm his unsteady breath, but it’s beyond his control. So he just flourishes twofold, hoping to distract from his true state. “Oh, I know it’s hard to look without touching the goods, but you really didn’t have to come all this way just to woo me. I’m not that expensive, pet. Just a few gold coins would buy you a night with the best lay in Hanjuyang–”
“Stop your pretenses, Hound! You killed him. I know you killed him.” The speaker’s lip rises in derision as they sweep their glare across the Pack like a merciless blade. “You were not satisfied with how much you took from us on the battlefield, so you resorted to such underhanded methods. I should have known that this would be the way of the unworthy.”
“Underhanded?” Princess barks. “You are the ones who planted spies in the Pack. What could be more underhanded than that?”
“Who did the Rat kill?” Happy raises, and the Pack turn their attention on the raven once more.
Rin can’t escape Jun’s gaze. The concern and trepidation that sits heavy upon his face.
“He killed Crow.”
It’s a mere whisper, but the effect of those three words is immediate. The entire Flock silently rises in tandem. Daggers are pulled out, shick shick shick, the whisper of their blades louder than any vocalisation of their intent.
Rin grits his teeth and turns away from the Pack. Shocked expressions, of gaping mouths and perplexed eyes, slam into him from every direction. The worst comes from Jun. A darkness that clouds his beautiful features and obscures the true nature of his emotions.
But Rin can easily fathom that it’s nothing good.
When the first Fledgeling attacks, the Pack snaps into focus. Despite the power of their grief and fury, the Flock are dealing with foreign elements. Not only are they in Hound territory, they are also attacking in the broad light of day. The sun, however weak in the overcast, make their black forms discernable. And within moments, they are dispatched.
Those that can still stand flee into the junkyard, cursing out the killer of their god, and just like that, the encounter ends. Violently, but quickly.
Before he can be questioned, Rin makes his escape into the temple. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that every single Hound is watching him go.
Jun remains outside and does so for the rest of the day. Rin doesn’t know whether he’s disappointed or relieved by this.
***
The traitors are discovered the next day, when several Hounds disappear from their cots. Just another blow for the heartsick Pack.
Those who had fallen during the battle are buried at Hanjuyang Ceremony, funded by the Marquis himself (funded, meaning Rin pilfered gold from the drug-addled man and claimed he gave his blessing). The ceremony is simple, Hounds taking turns digging graves and burying their dead comrades with their own bare hands. It’s rudimentary and earnest. A sincere reflection of their loyalty to each other.
Rin and Jun, as Milkfangs, aren’t required to assist with the graves. But they do so regardless, from a sense of duty or obligation. They dig the one meant for Vex and place his wrapped body within. Though there is much story swapping and bittersweet laughter shared amongst the Pack, neither Milkfang speak a word to each other. The memory of Vex’s death remains fresh and raw in their minds.
By the time they finish burying the poor Hound, the atmosphere has deteriorated to one of restless anger.
“He didn’t bother coming,” Happy growls, taking a hard swing of wine from his waterskin. “Somehow, I’m not even surprised.”
Others raise their voices, with equal amounts of uncertainty and outrage.
“Since when has he ever really cared about us?”
“All he cares about is Slowane and sex. Even coin comes second to that pervert.”
“Didn’t he pay for these plots?”
“He did the bare minimum. Are we supposed to applaud him for that?”
“Ain’t here when it matters, so it ain’t worth shit.”
There’s a ripple of agreement through the Pack, expressions twisting in frustration.
“Addiction is a terrible, debilitating illness,” Jun says, gently. “Perhaps we ought to be a little more understanding of the Marquis’ situation.”
His words are met with derision, bordering violence. Rin gives the Hounds a narrow look as he tugs his little lord to safety by his side.
“This isn’t the time,” he murmurs to Jun, expression grim. “Let them be angry.”
The noble grimaces and gives a short nod.
Once Vex is buried, the Milkfangs sit under a nearby tree to rest. They silently watch the Hounds continue the burial, sometimes arguing, sometimes laughing, other times visibly grieving.
The day is sweltering but overcast, generating a mugginess that seems to have no end. There’s a distinct scent of ozone, indicating an impending storm.
Rin leans back against the trunk of the tree and the scratchy bark irritates his scar.
A slight breeze shifts the thick air. A thankful reprieve.
“They respect you now,” Jun says, watching Happy threaten Princess with an oversized branch. “Do you notice how they look at you?”
“What are you talking about?” Rin picks a long swaying grass and chews the stalk.
“Every time they make a decision, they all look at you. Like they are waiting for your approval.”
Rin snorts, bringing his hands to the back of his head. He’s the very picture of nonchalance. “You’re dreaming. Why the fuck would they want my approval for? They all hate my guts. Think I got it easy ‘cus I’m the Marchioness – though none of them realise what it really means to be that idiot’s ‘wife’.”
“You…you rid of Crow, did you not? Their long standing foe and the man who caused the deaths of their brethren.” Something in Jun’s tone is strained. He’s got his face turned away, so the raven can’t read his expression. But he doesn’t need to.
“I told you why I did it.”
“Yes. Because of Vex.” Jun glances at the Pack, eyes flitting about. “Is he here?”
“He’s fucking around with Princess.”
Vex is indeed hovering around the giant Hound, leaping up and slapping the back of his head. “Don’t look so gloomy, you big lug! Oh wait…I suppose that’s just your face, ain’t it?”
“…Do you suppose…there could have been another way to dispose of him?” Jun asks, cautiously.
“You don’t like what I did.”
“No. But you knew I would not. Which is why you left that vague note.” There’s a sharpness to Jun’s voice. Anger.
Rin glances at the lord and sees the perplexed lines between his brows. Those golden eyes blazing in the shadow of betrayal.
“There was no other way, Jun. Vex wasn’t going to leave without taking Crow with him.”
“Could you not have used Izayoma’s Call?”
“And damage his soul? Izayoma’s Call is the last resort, not the first.”
“Killing Crow should have been the last resort, Rinnie.”
“Since when do you care if I kill?” Rin shoots back, hackles raised.
Jun grimaces, goldens rapidly cooling.
An uneasy silence settles between them.
“I know I am a hypocrite,” Jun says, slowly. “It…confuses me. My stance on these things. Especially when you are involved. However, I do not think killing should be done so easily–”
“Easily? You think it was easy for me?” Rin shoots to his feet. He paces towards the Pack, as if to leave, but then promptly returns. His small figure looms over the seated lord, who gazes up at him in concern.
“It’s not easy.” Rin’s voice is a mere rasp. He’s trembling, from the cold perhaps. “Despite what you might think, I’m not totally dead inside. Sure, I think some of the time it’s out of my hands. Some of the time it’s well deserved. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”
Jun furrows his brows and reaches out to grasp the raven’s hand. It’s ice cold and a little clammy. “If it causes you so much distress, then why do you resort to it?”
“…” Rin stares down at their conjoined hands. His eye becomes hooded, disaffected. “Because that’s how things work. People will always kill and be killed. There’s no avoiding it, no hiding from it. So I might as well strike first, rather than be buried myself.” And how else can I protect you? he adds, silently. The heat from Jun’s hand conjures those ghostly white symbols in his ring. His lips twitch.
“If you had come to me about this, we could have found another solution.”
“Since when are you my keeper?”
Jun’s brows lace at the jab, his hurt stark before he stifles it. “Are we not partners? Do we not share our burdens?”
“I think I’ve shared more than enough. Even just letting you be here is a terrible idea.”
Jun grimaces, anger flickering in his gaze. “Are you quite certain that this was for Vex?”
“Who else would it be for?”
“The Marquis seemed quite pleased upon hearing about Crow’s death.”
Rin laughs caustically, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “Weren’t you the one who was drooling over Korain? Saying that we had to support his cause or whatever?”
Jun falls silent, lips tugged back in a grimace. He wonders now why he ever said such a thing. Though he believed that the Marquis had genuine intentions, the way he seemed to be utterly gleeful about another’s death made Jun uneasy.
And to think that Rin had possibly bloodied his hands again for this man…
It sends a hot, prickly feeling over the little lord. And it’s a feeling that incites a deep feeling of shame and self-reproach.
“Anyway, you heard what Korain said. Crow and his Flock were the biggest drug peddlers in the Slums. Now, everyone’s gonna be forced to dry out. I thought you’d be happy about that?” Judging by Rin’s bitter tone, he’s not all that pleased by this development.
“Yes…” Jun hesitates, having forgotten about this point. “I suppose that is rather good news. This would mean that the Marquis is looking to wean off Slowane?”
“No way,” Rin scoffs, leaning a cheek in his hand. “The guy’s got his own supply. He’s never gonna stop smoking that damn herb.”
“If only he would. He would make for a competent leader.”
“You’re starting to sound like a real Hound.”
“Hm. Although today, they do not seem very pleased with him.”
“For a good reason, don’t you think?”
“Addiction is a debilitating disease—”
“Everyone’s addicted to something down here, little lord. Don’t mean we all act like assholes.”
“Slowane seems particularly…personality altering.”
“Hah. One way of putting it, sure. That’s why I don’t touch the stuff.”
Jun gives the sour-faced raven a curious glance. “It was his addiction that drove you away?”
Rin’s gaze takes on a distant look, as if he were losing himself to his memories. “Sure.”
There’s an expectant silence from Jun that the raven can’t seem to ignore. He sighs and continues, “It was good. For a long time. And then…some asshole turned him onto Slowane. Ever since then, he’d changed. Become that depraved shithead like you saw in the Temple. Always thinking with his dick. Always looking to get his next hit. It’s like nothing else mattered to him anymore.” Rin chews on the blade of grass, eye growing hooded. “…I didn’t know how bad Slowane was back then. Thought it was just a fun aphrodisiac we could try in bed.” He gives the lord a mirthless smile. “Then we got lost in it for a long time and I got out. But Korain didn’t.”
Vex tires of teasing Princess and wanders over. He sits down beside Rin, leaning his back against the tree.
“Haven’t you left yet?” Rin asks, dryly. “Or was Crow’s death not enough for you?”
“Oh, it was plenty enough,” Vex chuckles, flicking at the raven’s forehead. “I’m just saying my goodbyes.”
“They can’t see you.”
“I know. But…I like to pretend they can.” There’s a wistful tinge to Vex’s words as he gazes at the Pack. “Do you reckon they’ll remember me?”
“Why not?” Rin shrugs. “Don’t see how anyone could ever forget your annoying ass.”
Jun watches his lover interact with the spectre with furrowed brows. To him, it simply appears as if the raven’s lost his mind. Of course, he knows better, but it unnerves him regardless.
Vex laughs at the Milkfang’s words and rests a hand upon Rin’s shoulder. Oddly, there’s a warmth that blooms there.
“Thank you, Rin,” the spectre says, sincerely. “I know it was difficult for you.”
“All I did was bat my lashes and throttle the guy. Wasn’t difficult at all.”
“Then those tears were for me?”
“Will you fuck off, already?”
Vex laughs uproariously as he avoids a flying fist, adroitly leaping to his feet and skipping out of reach. “Tell Princess that I say bye. And that I’m the one who hid his doll collection.”
“It’s a good thing you’re dead, ‘cus he definitely would have killed you for that.”
Rin smiles as he watches the dead Hound cheerily dance away, form dissipating like smoke ghosting upon the wind.
Silence falls. The voices of the living echo through the cemetery.
“Is he gone?” Jun asks, quietly.
Rin nods and draws his knees up to hug. He buries his face, feeling his eyes prickle.
A comforting palm rests upon the small of his back.
“You did the best you could, Rinnie.” Jun’s voice is soft. Somewhat distant. “With Vex. With the Marquis. You did what you could and I cannot deny your efforts. In fact, I rather admire them.”
“Do you think I’m cursed?”
Jun pauses, gazing down at the tightly wound pillbug beside him. The raven seems so awfully small and vulnerable. “No.”
“Even when I ruin everything I touch?”
“That is blatantly untrue.”
“But you’re still not happy with me.”
“I’m unhappy with the violence and the deaths.” Jun sighs and reaches up to rest his hand upon the raven’s head. “Rinnie. There is no other I would rather be with.” A clear hesitation. “Even if you were to enact the most abhorrent deeds…my heart would still yearn for you.”
Rin raises his head.
The sincerity upon the lord’s face incites a deep flush to bloom within his cheeks. His heart flutters hopelessly. “There you go again. Saying those pretty, meaningless words.”
“Pretty perhaps, but never meaningless,” Jun huffs, amusedly. He pats those fluffy raven locks before withdrawing his hand. How hopeless we are, he thinks, watching the burial ceremony deteriorate into another fistfight. Like children lost in the dark, searching desperately for a scrap of light.
… calls a therapist
I love these fluffy-bittersweet-hug moments so much QAQ
Thank you for the chapter!! ❤️❤️
The fluff is rare but I do love writing them!! Thank you for reading <33
Ahhh!! T-T Rinnie… doing the best he can. <3 RIP Vex.
He tries so hard XDD
You’re not cursed rinnie!! It’s just the author’s wims! It will be better later i promise 🥲
It will definitely get better! Before it gets worse… ^3^ <33