Tangled In Strings

Chapter 6 : If The Moon Shatters So Will I

The sky was splitting.

The moon, once Moonjumper's anchor, now hung in the sky like a fractured eye-its glow dim, its surface cracked wide like broken porcelain. Pieces hovered in space, drifting like dead stars.

Subcon trembled beneath it.

And at the center of it all stood Snatcher, breath ragged, shadows fraying at the edges.

"This is bad," he muttered, pacing along the swamp's edge. "This is beyond bad. This is full-on cosmic disaster, and I don't even have a contract to blame it on-"

He stopped when he saw Moonjumper.

Stumbling.

Bleeding starlight.

The cracks in his mask were now jagged and glowing, spiderwebbing over his face and reaching toward his eye. His body flickered with instability, strings spasming as if being pulled from opposite directions.

Snatcher rushed to him without thinking.

"Hey-hey, Moonpie, no disappearing, alright? You promised me you weren't gonna do this!"

Moonjumper's voice was faint.

"I can feel the pull... it's like the moon is trying to take me with it."

"Then we fix it," Snatcher snapped. "We do something. Anything."

Moonjumper collapsed to one knee, claws digging into the moss.

"There's only one way to mend the moon," he whispered. "The Marquess built the first curse. His strings are sewn into its magic. If we don't sever him, the cracks will spread-and I'll be the first to break."

Snatcher stared at him, then away.

His voice came low and sharp.

"You're talking like you're ready to let that happen."

Moonjumper looked up, mask nearly shattered.

"Wouldn't it be easier? For both of us?"

"No." Snatcher's shadows lashed violently, twisting into jagged shapes. "You don't get to give up. Not after you kissed me. Not after you made me feel like-like-"

He froze.

Moonjumper's visible eye widened.

"Like what?"

Snatcher flinched.

"Don't make me say it. Not now. Not when you're halfway to dust and I still can't breathe right when you're this close."

Moonjumper reached out, gently catching Snatcher's wrist.

"Then fight for me."

---

✦ The Ritual Site ✦

They returned to the ruins of the Dreaming Tree, where reality bent and the sky always shimmered with tears in the veil.

Waiting there-wrapped in red strings, mask of bone grinning-stood The Marquess.

"How romantic," he purred. "The broken king and the dying puppet. So predictable. So delicious."

Snatcher stood in front of Moonjumper now, form solidifying in ways it hadn't in years.

"You're going to release him," Snatcher growled. "You're going to let go of whatever strings you've buried into his curse and get out of my forest."

The Marquess laughed.

"You think you can protect him? You barely held yourself together for a century. You're a child playing with grief, and now you want to play hero?"

Moonjumper stepped beside Snatcher, mask flaring with unstable light.

"He's more than a shadow. And I'm more than your puppet. We're not afraid of you."

"Then die together," the Marquess hissed, and launched his strings.

---

✦ The Battle ✦

It wasn't a fair fight.

Snatcher and Moonjumper had fought alone for so long-they were used to isolation, to acting in anger or fear. But now... they fought together.

Moonjumper's strings danced around Snatcher's shadows, combining into dazzling, unpredictable patterns. Starlight wove through darkness. Curses met curses and formed something new.

Snatcher gritted his teeth and roared as the Marquess drove a tendril of red string straight toward Moonjumper's chest-only for Snatcher to throw himself in the way, taking the hit with a scream of static.

"STOP HURTING HIM!" he bellowed.

His voice wasn't theatrical anymore.

It was real.

---

The Marquess staggered back.

Moonjumper saw it-the hesitation. The crack.

He seized it.

Strings exploded from his palms, shining silver now instead of red, tearing through the Marquess's chest and ripping the old curse free.

The moon above let out a shockwave of light.

It stitched itself whole in midair.

But Moonjumper's mask... was still breaking.

---

✦ The Aftermath ✦

The Marquess vanished-banished, for now.

Snatcher collapsed beside Moonjumper in the glade, panting hard, his flickering form glitching violently.

"We did it," he said, stunned.

Moonjumper didn't answer.

He was fading.

Not violently. Not dramatically.

But like fog under sunrise.

Snatcher looked at him, shadows curling tightly in desperation.

> "Don't go. You promised."

Moonjumper smiled gently, even as a crack split down the middle of his mask.

"The curse is gone. That's what matters."

Snatcher grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

"You matter. Don't you get it yet?"

Moonjumper blinked, stunned.

"You don't say things like that."

"Well maybe I've been trying not to lose what little is left of me to you," Snatcher snapped. "Because I don't know how to feel things without bleeding, and you make me feel everything all at once!"

Moonjumper was silent.

Snatcher's claws trembled.

"I'm in love with you, Moonjumper."

The last piece of the mask cracked.

And beneath it-pale skin, silver scars, soft eyes full of ancient sadness-was the real face.

Tired.

Tearful.

Human.

Moonjumper touched Snatcher's hand.

"Then pull me back."

And Snatcher kissed him.

It wasn't graceful.

It wasn't gentle.

But it was real, and in that kiss, in that touch of two monsters made less monstrous by love, Moonjumper's fading stopped.

His strings glowed bright silver, and the light from the repaired moon poured down over them both