[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots

[skinstealer]

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Just Right- 2019

Ringor Mortis, Vest Party, pre-Sleepwalker

CW: Abuse, implications of past abusive relationships

Leo and Ashton have an argument.

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It’s late at night, the night air is clear, and your partner is polishing your jewelry. He’s talking, but you can’t tell what he’s saying over the sound of your own thoughts. Something about today’s mission, no doubt.

You can’t stand it.

“Ashton.”

“Yeah?"

“Please. Shut up.”

He almost puffs up in rage, biting his lip and exhaling hard. “I don’t have to take this shit.”

“Yeah? Name somewhere better you could be right now. Anywhere at all.”

He clams up, and you can’t help but smirk. “That’s what I thought. I’m the best you’re gonna get.”

“Hmph.” His tail lashes around as he crosses his arms and mutters something under his breath.
 
“You wanna say something to me, Ash?”

“Never mind .”

“No, no, I want to hear it.” You reach out and grab his tail right before the tip, squeezing hard enough to make him wince. “Go on. Say it.”

He snarls, avoiding eye contact. “...For all the shit you gave Flynt for getting emotional over his ex, you still get worked up over him.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sick of it! You barely even look at me anymore! All you do is mope around and think about that pathetic, sniveling little bird.”

You grip his tail harder, Ashton still going off through the pain. “I want to kick his head right off for what he did to you, but you’ve got plenty of good right here-” He gestures to himself, running his hands down his torso. “-that won’t break your goddamn fingers, or cry in the middle of the night when you’re trying to sleep, or whine about life here in Monte not being good enough .”

You let go of Ashton’s tail, the other de’moneres letting out a gasp of relief. “Fine. Maybe you’re right.”

“And ANOTHER thing- wait, what?”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be thinking about that piece of shit anymore. Doesn’t deserve the space in my skull.”

He grins, all misgivings forgotten at the smallest implication of being right about something. The man’s brain was a painfully simple, almost stupid thing, and it’s easy enough to get him to shut up by playing this game.

“You really mean it, Leo? Really?”

“Yeah. From now on, it’s all about you.”

You have to keep yourself from snarling at him as he pounces, tumbling onto the ground.

“I knew you’d be receptive, darling! Oh, you’re just wonderful-”

You start ignoring his praise all over again, nodding and giving the occasional obligatory “of course”. It didn’t take much to get him back on track, and as much as his incessant chatter bothered you, you liked how fast he snapped back from a fit. He was easy to deal with. Malleable. Able to take orders and get his hands dirty, whenever you asked- reveled in it, even. Oh, Ashton was just as twisted up as you were.

He was just right.