#thank u i am softly weeping in the work break room

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

  V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back.  “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way. 

 4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself.  Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.” 

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose. 

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones. 

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?”  “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it. 

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

[ecotone99]

[MF] Transfusion

trans·fu·sion /ˌtran(t)sˈfyo͞oZHən/ noun an act of transferring donated blood, blood products, or other fluid into the circulatory system of a person or animal.

She stood over the cot in the cold night, the bright hospital lights contrasting a strange red power emanating from her hands as she slowly resuscitated the man. She was different somehow, different than the rest of the medical staff in the hospital. They didn’t have this, this burden placed on them, and yet, they always complained about how difficult their jobs were. If she had her way, she would’ve never had this in the first place.

After being satisfied that the man was back to perfect condition, the red light faded away and she put her gloves back on. They fit snugly around her hands, and with a tired sigh, sat down on a nearby chair and began to fill out a checklist on the status of the patient. It was just another night, just another person to take care of. She stood up after doing so, and dimmed the lights, closing the door behind her as she left the room.

She walked down the halls and turned the list in to her supervisor who nodded to her. “Take a break, Miss Rose. You’ve been busy all night.” She nodded tiredly and continued to stroll the halls once again.

Ordinarily, an average person wouldn’t be tired from just working all night. After all, what really was the difference between the day and night shift, besides the time? But it wasn’t the case with her, as her burden made it so that she grew more and more tired with each and every patient she treated.

She sat down and rubbed her eyes, having taken her gloves off to do so. Her gloves. They contained her power and burden because without them, she couldn’t control it. The one time she had let go had quite devastating effects. She still hadn’t shaken the memory of that time, and was convinced it was her fault, no matter how much everyone spoke the opposite.

She started to yawn but quickly suppressed it after a brief moment. It appeared as though she was more tired than she outwardly expressed. She glanced at the clock and sighed again. It would seem that it would be quite a while before she got to go home. Well, that was something to be grateful for, some people didn’t have homes. She would know, she’d been there herself.

Within a flash, a half an hour passed like that. She stood up, stretching for a moment as she did so. She walked back, no sign of the fatigue that appeared on her only a few minutes before. She breathed in deeply and asked for her next assignment, which just so happened to be a man on the next floor.

She walked there and entered the room, hearing small, repetitive beeps as the monitor tracked his heartbeat. She slipped her white as snow gloves off and placed them on the table. Her hands started to glow a dim red once more and she started to heal the man, slowly but surely. In a way, it was as if she was taking his injuries and putting it into herself.

As she finished, she put her gloves back on and sighed, feeling an empty void in her heart. She felt so tired. Using her burden drained her energy and willpower and on some days, she didn’t know if she wanted to continue on. Or if she could, but she did what she always did, putting one foot in front of the other until she finished what she needed to do.

The burden brought all their pain away from them to her, and it took all of her to not collapse on the cold hospital floor when she did so. She felt a ringing in her head, like something was pounding her head with a hammer.

At the end of the night, she walked home and opened the door. It was a large, lonely place, filled to the brim with pictures and memories of days long past. Now finally in the safety of her own home, she knelt on the floor and started to weep, empty glass tears falling down her face.

Does anyone care for me like I care for them? Am I worth the pain that I cause everyone? Am I worth anything for that matter? All of these words she thought in silence, yet none of them made it into the choked sobs that left her throat.

She sat like that for a long time, the sun coming up and warming her with its touch. Yet she still felt cold inside, cold and empty like a grave for a person who drowned underneath the waves. Not that she would know, she had never seen the ocean. She imagined it was an endless expanse of blue, but it was only her imagination.

From behind her, someone silently descended the staircase, in so that she couldn’t hear them. They approached her quietly and put their arms around her, pulling her in their warm embrace. “What’s wrong, Rose?”

She tried to shake off the man’s embrace, but it only grew ever so slightly tighter. “N-nothing’s wrong… I’m n-not crying!” The sobs which racked her body convinced him otherwise. “I’m just tired is all. I think you know why.”

The man, who seemed to be her peer, took her hands. He was a rather graceful being, not strong and large, but rather lean and lithe, like a dancer. Slipping her gloves off, he lay them to the side. He held her hands in his, not caring of the consequences. “Who said anything about crying?”

He remained silent for a few moments and breathed in deeply, moving to the front of her. “This world is making you tired isn’t it? All this hard work and for what? Getting food on the table? Slowly snuffing out your inner fire? Wasting your soul away?” He paused again, and then resumed. “You deserve everything, everything this world can’t give you.”

He intertwined his hands with hers, seeing the red flush to her face for a brief few moments. He didn’t comment on it, yet a small smile came to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in, feeling everything leaving him. His happiness, his joy… until it all stopped. He was in a state of equilibrium, always happy, yet keenly aware of his sadness and anger.

He pulled away from her who had a look of childish wonder in her eyes. She felt alive, happy; she hadn’t felt this way in what seemed like an eternity. She turned towards him and embraced him tightly. She whispered in a happy voice, tears falling down her cheeks, this time now of joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

He rubbed her hair affectionately, an abnormally sad look in his eyes. He wasn’t used to feeling as if he wasn’t on a high, but he could live with out it. He wasn’t as sad as she was initially, but he wasn’t as happy either. “It’s not a problem. I said I’d always be here for you, doing anything to help you. I intend to keep my promises.” He smiled softly as he put on her gloves in a locked box. “You don’t need those again do you?”

She shook her head gently. “No, not when I’m with you.” He was her anchor, that kept her grounded, that let her know that she wanted, noticed. And now he had made the sacrifice no one wanted to, his happiness for hers. “I-I can’t ever repay you for this.”

He smiled again, not the bright smile that usually appeared on his face, but a subdued one that showed his emotions in a thousand subtle fashions. “You don’t need to. I just have one request.” He chuckled quietly as he saw her nod rather energetically. “Promise me, you’ll never leave me alone.”

She looked up at him with a confident look in her eyes. The fire inside her had been reignited, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. “I promise.”

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