#flufftober22

Being neighbors with your boyfriend had its perks. The one you were currently enjoying was being able to watch him work in the yard from your window. He was raking the falling leaves into a pile, more than likely at the request of his parents. You smirked when he looked up into your window, catching you watching.

He gave you the 'come here' motion with his finger, beckoning you to him.

You blew him a kiss and slipped your boots on before bouncing out of your front door and over to his yard. "Hey, lover boy. You rang?" You grinned, leaning against one of the trees partially responsible for his work.

He stopped his work and nodded. "I'm lover boy now? Since when, babydoll?" He rested his chin on top of his hand that was covering the end of the rake.

You laughed and shrugged. "I guess since you started calling me babydoll." You replied, reaching out for the tool in his hand. "Go get the girls. There's enough for them to jump in." You gently pulled the handle closer to you until you could press a quick kiss to his lips.

He stopped you from moving away when you tried, deepening the kiss a little for another moment. Gareth loved you, but knowing you were fond of his 7 year old twin sisters made him love you even more. 

You smiled widely at him as he pulled away. "Go on, lover boy." You laughed before kissing his nose, which was a bit chilly and red due to the crisp autumn air.

"Yes ma'am." He replied, leaving the rake in your hands and walking into his house. A few minutes later the front door opened and two pink marshmallows thundered your way.

You laughed at the way the jackets engulfed the girls as they yelled your name. "Hey! You guys having a good day?" You asked and your knelt down to receive their hugs.

Lisa nodded and quickly explained how they had been watching Care Bears before Gareth came and got them.

Kelly interrupted stating that they were excited for finally wear their new jackets because it was cold.

"That's so awesome. I wish I had one like that. It's going to give you guys some extra padding for the leaves too, you know." Your face moved with expression in they way you would when talking to kids.

Gareth rested against the tree as you interacted, falling deeper and deeper in love with you every time you smiled or laughed, making his sisters do the same. His whole world stood in front of him in the form of the three girls that had stolen his heart. "Let's get to jumping, huh?" He asked, breaking into the conversation.

Your mouth opened and your eyes went wide. "I think it's time, right?" You asked the girls, pushing to stand up.

"Yes!" They screamed, bouing on their feet.

You and Gareth had only managed to jump in the leaves a total of two times each in the near hour you'd spent out there. Most of your time was spent helping the girls out of the leaves, or raking the leaves back into a pile.

It was extremely easy to guess who was fronting when they wore their suits. Steven always had the Mr Knight outfit, Marc had the ceremonial robes of Khonshu, and Jake had a more practical, military-style black and white more armoured outfit.

You had asked because, though you often worked with the Avatar of Khonshu, it was extremely rare for you to work with Steven or Marc. You see, you had a history with Jake Lockley long before you knew Marc and Steven existed.

Being an ex-SHIELD agent allowed you to work together with the fist of Khonshu for quite some time during his work in the States. During those times you were working with him, you knew him for Jake Lockley. Only when he disappeared without any sign of contact did you start worrying.

Then he showed up one night, explaining everything. Turns out, after Marc was found out by Steven and the whole Arthur Harrow event unfolded, it didn’t take long for Jake’s existence to be noticed by the other two. Which led to a long conversation about every memory gap Marc had. Which led to Jake coming that night to your doorstep explaining everything.

To be quite honest, you were expecting much worse. When your co-workers on a daily have to deal with literal Norse Gods, a man in a flying suit of armour, several witches and wizards, and a guy with a bow and arrow. Safe to say you weren’t surprised that the man who served under the Egyptian Moon God wasn’t all that he said he was.

“Guess he just didn’t want to see you this time.” Marc quickly made up an excuse right as a werewolf swerved its head towards the noise of his voice. Eyes locking in with the beast, there was a short tense moment where the two simply stared.

All before the werewolf lunged at both you and Marc. Thinking quickly, you aimed your guns at the beast, firing your silver bullets at the creature while pushing your body to the side to avoid its deadly lunge.

What perfect timing, you thought to yourself. Of course, you could see through the bold-faced lie Marc told you. There was more to it than Jake just not wanting to see you. You and him have been inseparable since the two of you met. But, seeing as the werewolf you shot and previously thought was dead was now starting to move once again. You knew it wasn’t the time to think of such trivial matters.

Marc could only thank whatever Egyptian God controlled the timing of that werewolf. Had you teased him or called him out on his lie, which you definitely would’ve if you had gotten the chance, he wouldn’t have been able to back up his statement.

There was good reason for you to be confused why Marc, of all people, was fronting. He tended to be the one who didn’t get along with you as much. You didn’t put it against him, Jake and you hadn’t gotten along when you first met either. It was a trust thing. And Steven trusted quickly, so it wasn’t hard for you and him to get along.

But for that exact reason, Steven and Jake, mostly Jake, usually fronted during the missions when you started joining them.

The thing that Marc would never tell you was that he and Jake got into a relatively heated argument right before this mission. Something about Jake yelling at him for being rude to you the last time the two of you interacted. To which Marc simply responded that he just flatly didn’t like you all that much.

Not like Jake or Steven. As Marc could very clearly tell, Jake had something for you, and perhaps you were growing on Steven. Something Marc loathed.

During that argument, Jake and Steven agreed that Marc would be the one fronting when you tagged along on their missions. But, it turned out, that agreement would come to play sooner than any of them had expected. Marc had actually tried giving control over the other two people in his headspace right after he called for your backup.

In response, they completely ignored him and simply pushed him back into the driver’s seat.

“How many are after you?!” you called out to Marc as the two of you split up into two different sections of the street so that the werewolves wouldn’t be working together. “Five, last I checked!”

The one that you had shot when it lunged towards you, and Marc in the alleyway was chasing after you. Its thick black fur matted with its own blood. It was moving much more sluggish than when it first pounced on you. So, aiming true, you shot the beast one last time. Watching as the creature slowed down and finally fell to the ground, unmoving.

“I got one!” You shouted out towards Marc. You saw from the corner of your eye that two werewolves were chasing after Marc, meaning there were two left.

One was running straight towards you, its sharp white teeth ready to rip you to shreds. You dodged some of its attacks as you let a rain of bullets attack the creature. “That’s one, Marc has two, one of them is down. Where is the other one?” You whispered to yourself as you made the final shots to the beast.

Keeping an eye on the look out, you pressed your back against a wall so you wouldn’t be ambushed from your back. You reloaded your guns. Who knew killing mythical beasts would use up so many bullets.

As your mind raced to figure out where the last werewolf could be, you failed to realize that the building you were leaning on didn’t have a tall roof. It was too late when you heard the growling. Looking upwards, you were met with the figure of a leaping werewolf right about to land a killing blow on you. Its long arms with sharp claws outstretched towards you.

Though you were too late to dodge unscathed, you felt fortunate enough that the only damage you sustained was a deep cut on your arm from where the werewolf’s claw had sunk into your skin. Biting the inside of your lip, you ignored the burning pain of a fresh wound on your arm. You had to focus. If you don’t, the little wound would be the least of your concerns.

“Shit.” You murmured as the beast looked even more ravenous after having a small taste of ripping your flesh. You knew at this point that your right hand would be useless; if you decided to put it to work, you could rip more of your tendons from the already tender wound.

But you hadn’t realized how dire your situation was until your head began spinning. For a mere second, your eyes left the beast’s terrifying gaze to look at your arm and assess how much blood you had lost. Unfortunately, the answer was too much. And when the beast lunged at you once again when you were not ready, you were forced to throw yourself to the ground so that its claws would not sink to your head.

In return, another flesh wound was given to you, this time on your cheek. And with you now being on the ground. One arm was severely injured and the other was holding said severely injured hand to make sure it didn’t completely bleed out. You realized you were fucked.

Codeword; were.

Your knight in shining, well white, armour appeared right behind the werewolf and slammed his body to the creature. You watched in gratefulness as Marc wrestled for a moment with the werewolf under him before finally being able to land a killing blow with his crescent-shaped blade.

“I’d love to say I had it under control, but I really didn’t.” you jested, “Thank you.” your smile was both genuine and joyful. Wanting to mask how much pain you were into the mercenary in front of you.

What scared you, though, was that Marc didn’t even respond. He stalked over towards you and wordlessly crouched right beside you. You watched with a curious gaze as he took off his cape, noting how the mask was still on his face; you couldn’t really see his expression and therefore read what he was thinking.

Using his cape, he did quick work at making a makeshift tourniquet also with a branch he had found. You tried to not wince at the pain of it all as he tightened the, now red with your blood, white cape right above the deep wound.

Unbeknownst to you, a flurry of very colourful curse words of two languages were echoing through Marc’s mind.

“How did you not see that there was three following them?! You could’ve handled three but no. You had to be the one to deal with two werewolves and give the other one to them!?” He heard Jake yell in his head.

The first time the man decided to speak since the argument. And he sounded even more enraged now than during the argument.

“Jake let’s not jump into conclusion yeah? Bet Marc didn’t even know the other one was following them. Plus, we just need to focus on getting them stitched up now.” Steven tried calming the very mad Latino down.

“Fine, but if you fuck up, I’ll take over and deal with it myself.”

Usually, Jake’s statement on taking over the body when it was dealing with you would’ve made Marc happy. But, again, he didn’t like dealing with you, not that he really knew why. It was just that Marc felt weird whenever you were around. And he hated it. Therefore, he hated you. But in today’s case. He loathed the idea of Jake taking over. It was his fault that you got hurt. He’ll be the one to fix it.

“Hey, you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you? I thought Khonshu’s suit would make you heal fast or something.” Despite your apparent worse state than him, you still showed him more compassion than he had the entire time he had known you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in worry when Marc still didn’t answer. His emotionless mask showed none of his inner turmoil as one of your hands reached out to where his cheek would be. When he realized this, he quickly stood up from where he was standing.

“Can you walk?” he almost winced at how cold he sounded. Especially when you reacted in such a confused manner from his sudden bluntness.

You nodded as you stood up, “Yeah, I didn’t get scratched in the leg you know.” Again you tried to joke. Not that Marc laughed.

When he began walking, you asked, “Where are we going?” taking the fact that he wasn’t bidding you goodbye as a sign for you to follow him, you did so. Wincing at the slight movement making the blood seep through the tourniquet. “Steven’s loft is close to here. I’ll get you patched up there.”

You didn’t even try to hide your shock from the man. There were plenty of times you had gotten yourself hurt on the field. But usually, it’d be Jake who’d patch you up, or you patching yourself up whilst Jake, and you had a conversation. The latter was the more common one.

Despite this, you weren’t going to question it too much. Whatever’s gotten to Marc Spector’s head to get him to patch you up will not stop you from not having to stitch your own wounds.

The walk back to Steven’s walk was awkward, at least to you it was. Marc had stayed in front of you whilst you followed slowly behind him. Wincing every so often when stings of pain jolted up your arm. Marc looked back at you every time, only to mask his caring nature once you realized he was looking towards you.

Finally arriving at the homey loft, you made quick work going to the bathroom, ignoring Marc as best you could as you slowly took off the white, now red, cape from your wound. Flinching at the burning pain. Analyzing it under the luminescent yellow light of Steven’s bathroom, you could clearly tell that it would need stitches. Unfortunately, the fact that Marc had yet to enter the bathroom with you meant that Marc pulled back on his own words on patching you up.

Biting the inside of your mouth, you sucked in your shaky breath. Fuck him then.

Taking off your shirt with much effort, you prepared the needle and thread, hoping it won’t hurt so much this time. It always does, though. It always hurts no matter how many times you’d have to get stitched back up.

“What are you doing?” Speak of the Devil.

You turned your head around at Marc’s voice in the doorway he stood, carrying a bottle of alcohol. Its label scratched off and blurred from age. You had once wondered if Steven drank as much as the other two, as Marc did indulge in the liquid gold; Jake, from your longtime friendship with him, was clear to you only drank for recreation. From the look of the bottle Marc was holding, you’ve got your answer. Steven hardly drank.

You noticed that you had begun to get to know the other men that shared Jake’s body. Something you felt great joy at. You knew how much Steven and Marc meant to Jake, despite him never actually voicing how he felt. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely attracted to the man.

It only hurt you when Marc would so often brush you off. Avoid you at all costs. Even Steven warmed up to you. Why didn’t Marc?

“Trying to make sure I don’t bleed out and die?” You jested.

Marc’s already furrowed brows only furrowed deeper as he shook his head. “I said I’ll do it remember?” You stayed silent, mostly in slight shock, as Marc, now not in his costume anymore, made his way towards you.

You could tell he hesitated for a moment when he realized you weren’t wearing a shirt anymore. Despite this, he steeled himself off the embarrassment and grabbed the needle and thread from your hands. You had never seen Marc so gentle as that moment. He, softer than you thought was possible for Marc, angled your hand so that he could better patch it up.

The silence both of you had made for yourself was only broken when Marc poured half of the bottle’s contents towards your, still bleeding, arm. You threw your head to the side as you bit your tongue to stop a scream from leaving you. The stinging pain burned from your hand all the way up and down your arm.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t even register the fact that Marc had whispered those two words under his breath, as you were too busy not to let out your own slew of curses. Knowing had you done so, the next time Jake and you were alone, you wouldn’t hear an end to his teasing.

If only you knew how silent both Jake and Steven were in Marc’s mind. The two of them fretting about your own wellbeing.

Turning your head back to look at Marc, your heart stammered against your chest for a moment. He looked so focused, so careful. You could tell he was nervous; just like Jake, he had a tendency to stiffen his jaw when he was unsure of something. But his hands were as stable as they could get.

“Look away; it’ll make things easier.” You were about to retort how you’ve been patched up more times than one could count on their hands, how a little bit of blood and gore won’t do much to you.

But with the gash continuing to ooze blood, you heeded Marc’s warning and looked away. You gritted your teeth when the first puncture of a needle inserted itself into your skin.

When it was finished, Matt softly wrapped a piece of gauze on your skin. And finally, looked upwards to look at your face and not your wound.

That was the moment both of your eyes locked with one another. The tension was palpable in the air. So thick one would be able to cut it with a knife. Though from your point of view, everything was silent. Marc’s head spoke a different story.

“Kiss them.” Jake muttered. “We’ve talked about this, just kiss em’.”

But he couldn’t.

Looking into your eyes, Marc wouldn’t let himself fall for you. Not the same way Jake and Steven have. He won’t let himself be weak. So, Marc looked away, he turned and aimed to beeline towards the door.

Which he would’ve done had you not immediately grasped his arm, pulling him so he’d face you once more, and in one swift movement, pressed your lips against his. Marc’s eyes widened as he realized what you had done; for a moment, you were about to pull back because of his hesitancy to kiss you back. Thinking you had made a mistake in reading his body language and attraction towards you.

Steven was the one who stopped this from happening. “MATE, KISS THEM BACK!!!” Finally, Marc snapped out of his trance just before you pulled away. Marc pressed his hand against the back of your neck, pushing you into a deeper kiss with the man. You hummed in pleased surprise.

“Mierda, why was that so difficult?” Jake muttered in their head as Marc pulled away. Leaving you absolutely breathless.

Marc’s heart practically soared when he saw your eyes, starry and joyous. You looked incredible and that kiss felt even more incredible. He scolded himself internally for waiting that long to do it.

The moment was ruined when you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. “You know, I had thought if I were to kiss one of you, it’d be Jake first.”

“You hear that?!” Jake enthusiastically yelled. Marc’s face morphed into that of jealousy as he listened to your laughter. In a way, it made sense; for one, Marc was the one who seemed to hate you the most out of the other two; for two, Jake had known you much longer. But that didn’t stop him from being slightly annoyed by your statement.

“Oh, I see how it is, alright then if you prefer Jake.” Marc pulled away from your embrace, feigning frustration. “No Marc! No! That’s not what I meant!!” You were able to mutter out between your fits of laughter.

Before you could apologize even more, Marc’s body stiffened for a moment, “Marc?”

“Not anymore, mi corazon.” Just like that, Jake was in control. He immediately pushed you back towards the sink you had been leaning to, his body pressed against you.

From his grin, you could already tell that it was Jake. “I heard you were looking for me?” he whispered, his face mere centimetres away from your own.

When it was Marc, you were bold but hesitant, but Jake? Jake, you were an absolute mess for. Jake chuckled almost condescendingly when you couldn’t find the words to answer. Then, slowly inching closer to you, his lips were on you. You melted against his warm embrace, both his hands trapping you between him and the sink.

Just as Jake snaked his tongue into your own mouth, all of a sudden he pulled back. Your eyes opened in confusion, only to be met with Steven. Till this day, it surprised you how much you could tell the three apart.

“Sorry for the interruption loves, but you see I think it’s kind of unfair that Marc got your first kiss and now Jake’s about to do something else. I’m just here watching all of this unfold, even though we’ve had this conversation before and we agreed to-”

For a third time that night, you kissed the men you loved. Essentially it was to shut Steven up, though it was also to help him feel less left out. When you pulled away, Steven looked positively beaming and shocked simultaneously. His expression and reactions differ so much from the other two that it caused a giggle to escape you.

“Good night boys.” you muttered to Steven as you made your way out of the bathroom, not forgetting a small kiss on Steven’s cheek as a thank you for giving his place for you to patch up.

Steven practically watched you leave with stars in his eyes, knowing that the next time you meet, it’ll be much different than the tense environment it had been before.

It was happening again. Jane wasn’t by your side tonight. Even though it wasn’t anything new to you and she did it often. It didn't mean it didn't hurt you. She was always finding her way out of bed and going to her computer for any updates on Jeff. You knew she just wanted revenge, and she even warned you about her behavior. But, you fell for her anyway.

You two always had a rocky relationship, even before you knew each other. You started as enemies. Constantly fighting one another on sight, things changed after you two went rational. You hated the operator, and she hated Jeff. You both got into each other’s way quite often, whether it was going after the same confidential file or going after someone for information. That’s what caused your two paths to align. It caused you two to become friends then, become more than that. You both just had to get your goals straight with one another to become the team you are now. You shared information on Jeff and the operator, helping each other in any way you could. It helped both of you out in plenty of ways getting you two closer to your goals. But, this life wasn’t easy especially trying to keep a relationship.

Because you were now alone on the couch in the morning with little going for you. You hadn’t slept all night, almost in a way to get attention from Jane. Who hadn’t been paying much attention to you for a good two weeks, and you knew it was petty, but it hurt. She knew you’d try and intervene in her mission if she told you how long she’d be gone. So, she left without a word, leaving you only with the crippling anxiety that something could happen. You could feel the fatigue rise in you as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You just waited like an animal for her to come back. Like a little lap dog, you sat there patiently waiting for her to come to swoop you into her arms. And treat you with all of her undivided attention.

However, you had done the same thing to her a few times. Ignoring her and taking her for granted to concentrate on the operator and how you could bring him down. But not nearly as much as she did to you. And so it left you direly wanting her by your side instead of her trying to track down that mentally ill teenager. Though you understood why she was so committed to it and why she was going to such lengths to do so. But, it didn’t make the pain and void any less. Her love could only fill the void left by her soft touch and the warmth she brought you. You wanted her to stay by your side, and you were just too lovesick to say goodbye. And you knew it was the same with her. She could never leave you forever you both knew she’d come to you and allow you to mend her heart.

You watched the clock slowly tick by, hearing the menacing ding count the seconds. You didn’t know what time she’d be back or even if she’d return today. But, you could feel something in your heart saying she was coming back. That today would be the day she’d hold you once again and tell you what she did. Maybe she'd tell you how much she despises Jeff again and give you any new information about the operator, or maybe she’d talk about the proxies she ran into again and how she tried to change them. There were a plethora of things that could happen with the time she’s been gone.

And that’s when you heard the clack of heels and the jingle of keys approach the door. You practically flung yourself up as you rushed your way to the door. You pressed your hand against the door, hearing the rattle of keys commence. You knew it was her. You finished opening the lock that she started on as you slowly opened the door. She was a few feet away from the door frame, making sure to be careful. Her figure was slim, and her black hair contrasted with her monotone features. "Jane?" you muttered quietly, a little shaken up to see her after all this time. She looked the same as the day she left. She looked amazing with her makeup and her dress. "Reader? What are you doing up so early?" her voice was laced with concern as she took it upon herself to open the rest of the door. You didn’t fight back, wanting dearly to be in her arms.

"I was waiting for you." you yawned as your pain seemed to fade upon seeing her. But, as you thought about it, the feeling of hurt came back. You could never escape it, but at least Jane provided a temporary dose of sedation for it. She numbs it long enough to just leave it again. "Why didn’t you tell me." you could feel the tears prickle their way into your eyes. You wanted an answer to her leaving abruptly for so long because it hurt you badly. "That brat Jeff." she ranted. You could sense she was about to go on a tangent but held back due to the look in your eyes. "And you didn’t even think to warn me?" you felt a bit of your bottled-up emotions seep out. The carbonated air was leaving the bottle, and you couldn’t help yourself. She tensed up as she saw the expressions on your face, not expecting to see you so worked up about something you two had discussed.

"Don’t be like that." she tilted her head as if you were acting irrationally. You missed your girlfriend. You had the right to be upset, but something slipped out. "I hate you." your tears fell down your chin as you launched your frame at her, holding her. You could feel your pain fall away you needed this cry and you needed her to see it. You kept drenching her beautiful black satin dress with your tears. Her figure froze as her heels clicked back. She could sense all the pain pouring on her. "I love you too," she replied, the wrong thing to your comment. She knew it was just the hurt getting to you. "I’m sorry I-’ ‘I thought it’d take less time than that." she wrapped her arms around your waist as you wrapped yours around her neck. You couldn’t see clearly as she rubbed your back, whispering sweet-nothings to you. She comforted you until the pain left you.

"I won’t do it again.’ ‘I mean it." She vowed to your heart and your shared relationship. But, you both knew she could never stop hunting Jeff. But it didn’t mean she meant to disregard your love for her. She loved you more than the world, and to hear that. It broke her. You were the only one she could ever think of loving after she lost everything and couldn’t stand to see you go. You could feel her place a kiss on your forehead, pressing down before retracting. She held you as warmth came to your senses. Everything felt better after trying your best to communicate, even if it ended with that. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that." you apologized, feeling terrible for saying you hated her. You could never hate Jane, and you knew she didn’t hate you. The only one she hated was Jeff, and you were certainly not him. You could hear her mutter "it’s okay" as she exhaled heavily. Jane wasn’t typically the type to show emotion and could handle a lot of traumatic things before, but she’d cry. Her not crying on your shoulder didn’t mean she didn’t take any of it in. She did and needed to hear the same number of affirmations you did.

She let go softly as you allowed her to take away her touch. She led you to the couch, and you followed her closely. She patted the couch, motioning you to sit in the spot you had been sitting in for hours. You instantly sat back down on the couch as the plushness warmed you. You expected her to sit next to you, but, instead, she headed toward the kitchen behind the couch. You could hear her heels clicking against the marble. The noise of her shoes was always much louder than you’d typically expect. But you had a feeling she liked it that way. You could hear gentle humming as you could hear her moving cups and different silverware. "I’ll be over shortly," she told you, as you could hear her shake a packet to get the powder into the bottom of it. "How long have you been up?" you could hear her turn the stove on as you replied. "I’ve been waiting about every day, but I slept yesterday afternoon," you told her as she seemed to stop her movement. She paused before going back to whatever she was doing. "Well, hopefully, you can rest now," she added as she went back to what she was doing. You could smell a sweet sugary scent coming from the kitchen. You could hear her mix various solutions carefully as you sat eagerly.

"Any updates?" you asked her about her mission, which she exhaled too. "It went alright. I found where Jeff’s been cooped up in as well as various scribbles of... it." she paused due to mentioning the operator. She knew that doing so could set you off to go find it. You then heard the fidgeting of plastic as she approached your location. The stove soon turned off automatically as she hummed in contempt. You could soon hear the repeated clickety clackety of her heels as she sat next to you. Her slim figure fit perfectly between the both of you as she offered you a dark liquid. "Tea?" she smiled at you, offering you the hot liquid. Which you took. On the silver plate, there were two drinks as well as a range of cookies. You took a sip of your beverage as it warmed your throat. You took a few cookies, and Jane also picked up her drink. You both drank the tea as she turned on the television. She flicked through various channels as she allowed it to play your favorite TV show. She knew how much you liked it, so she allowed it to play. She put down the remote as you leaned against her shoulder. "Sleepy?" she asked, knowing it was early in the morning. "Yeah," you replied, as she relaxed her tense shoulders to allow you to rest.

"I love you, reader." she smiled as you did the same. "I love you too, Jane," you answered, letting go of any tension that you had built up over the past weeks. You could feel the stress just drain away in her presence. You loved her dearly and couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but in her clutch. She had you hooked, and you didn't have anyone like her. It was a cage you didn’t mind being stuck in. You could feel your eyes grow heavy as the noise of the television tuned out. You gently fall asleep under Jane’s watchful gaze.

Into his second life Mistoffelees’ magic went with him as loyal as ever, but with an edge of darkness, of being able to reach into the void, able to see ghosts flee from the peripherals of his vision. His shadow pressed on him, moved in darkness of its own accord; sometimes he touched a rock and it burned or scratched under his paws. His magic swelled inside him, large and powerful, and he could have unleashed its fullness, used it for terrible things, but he did not, for his heart was too kind to dream of such a thing. He was proud of his magic, and wasn’t afraid to show off, to put on an act, to bring puppets to life to entertain an Important Cat. He was a storyteller as much as Munkustrap was, regaling the deceivingly quiet life of the Gumbie Cat and the rambunctious chaos of Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer.

Naturally, as in their first lives, Mistoffelees and Tugger fell for each other; now the latter had his chest spots, a mark that would stay for the remainder of their lifetimes, just as Mistoffelees’ new bowtie marking on his throat and curious black markings around his eyes and mouth would too. That feeling of familiarity still lay dormant, sleeping, waiting to awake in a later life.

Something...strange happened in the Heaviside Layer after the second life, and somehow, in his third life, Mistoffelees was not at all his past two selves. Now his personality had entirely turned upside-down, the inverse of who he had been before. Instead of the proud showman he had been the last two lives, now he was entirely mute, an outcast from the Jellicle tribe, no longer an intimate friend to Munkustrap, who was now harsh and sharp, his attitude around Mistoffelees like sandpaper instead of gentle, soft silk. Perhaps, in some unconscious part of his mind, Mistoffelees remembered his friendship with Munkustrap, for he always trailed after him, looked up to him like a child to an admired adult, no matter how harsh the Jellicle tribe’s protector acted toward him.

And for the first time in this life, when Mistoffelees had first met Tugger when they were kittens, something about his growing mane and bushy tail, and those curious leopard-like spots on his chest struck him as familiar. Like he had seen him before, and something had stirred deep in him, though he had still been too young to think about or name it.

In this life, for his part, no sooner had Tugger spotted the tiny bowtie marking on the other cat’s chest or the faint lines on his white face that would become bolder with time, a sense of deja vu had come over him so strong he’d stumbled mid-step. And he knew, somehow, that this kitten would be a part of his life from that day on til the end.

Perhaps the muteness of his character had unsettled the Everlasting Cat, for when Mistoffelees slipped into his fourth life, he was no longer mute, but nor was he a showman--and yet, that was okay. Once again, he sung with pride, inviting everyone to the Jellicle Ball in his own voice, letting his magic fly around the stage, confident and strong in his own abilities. His relationship with Munkustrap wasn’t as one-sided as before, but nor was he entirely close and affectionate with him as he had been as a showman either. Mistoffelees wasn’t a storyteller anymore, that had all passed to Munkustrap, and would remain so for the rest of their lives. 

They’d had enough lives together now that both Tugger and Mistoffelees felt a strange deja vu when they saw the other for the first time. Before he’d even seen Tugger for the first time in this life, he already could imagine what he looked like, chest markings, mane, bushy tail, swagger and all. He could imagine that gorgeous baritone voice, his charming smile and laughter, and how when they teased each other, it felt like it had always been this way.

Always been this way.

He had his old sass back, healthy and strong, in his fifth life, even if he wasn’t singing his own song or raising puppets to life or telling the kittens stories to calm or entertain them as Munkustrap did. Even better, in this life, now he was closer to the Munkustrap he had once known many lives ago when he had too been a storyteller. Munkustrap was gentle, attentive to the kittens, a calming presence, a brave fighter, and a very sweet lover with Demeter. His magical confidence brightened the day of all those who saw it--he could make lights blink, could turn the lights on or off, spin up a Conjuring Turn so fast that the smallest kittens got dizzy looking at him, and--

He was so much closer to himself, Mistoffelees found through his life, and he wasn’t sure why. But he was glad for it--his banter with Tugger was full of sass as it had once been, even if he didn’t dance much with him, that terrible bore who maybe hogged the spotlight a little too much.

When he first met Tugger, he knew he had seen him before--he recognised him instantly by his chest spots, and in his turn, Tugger confessed to him one day he knew it was Mistoffelees the first time they had met ever. Why?

It was the bowtie marking, Tugger had said, and your face.

And my sass, too, I’m sure, Mistoffelees had added silently.

Mistoffelees’ personality was like a fluid through all these lives, never flowing the same way between two different times. His confidence (perhaps too much of it, Jellylorum would tsk), and his youth, and his awkwardness all tumbled together to become the young, sweet cat he would be in this life. Mostly, but not entirely, mute, he knew how to express with his face and his body. The glare over Bombalurina’s shoulder when she took his spotlight at the Ball, the embarrassment that radiated from him when he had thought he was going to tell a story about the Gumbie Cat (it was Munkustrap, one again, who thankfully didn’t call too much attention to his mistake), and the infectious confidence he exuded when Tugger had shown everyone his magical powers in a time of crisis.

Bowtie marking. Thick arched eyebrows and cute little black nose and whiskers.

Still the same.

Tugger’s chest spots, huge mane of fur, that charm, that swagger.

Still the same.

Again, and again, they would find each other, know who they were at first sight, and know, just know, who each other were and are.

They had met before time and time again, and knew they would met time and time again in their future lives.