(Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon on Tumblr!)

Almost every single day was the exact same. Almost every single argument was the exact same.

The Heart would get whiny and overly sensitive, arguing about any little thing he could and causing an absolute headache all day. You'd respond, tell him facts, and suddenly he has to make everything worse by trying to get physically hostile. If it weren't for the Soul, you'd swear that he would have killed you years ago.

You were already preparing for the Heart to get hostile, and just as the argument reached that peak volume that signalled him presumably about to clock you in the face or tackle you, the Heart just shoved his hands into his pocket and hung his head...not the immediate reaction you've come to expect, but—

Then he reached into his pocket and brandished a...hand gun. You recognized it, he had shown it off to you a few times with some crude drawing of you as his target, but looking back on it, that might've been unfortunate foreshadowing for this moment.

"Just-...Just shut up f-for once...!" The Moon spluttered out, his mauve eyes widening so much his pupils looked like pin pricks. His wings fluttered at his sides, and his hands trembled so much around the handle of the pistol that you briefly wondered if he would accidentally activate it just from holding it in his uncertain grasp. "Y-You always have to win, don't you...!? There hasn't even been a goddamn second of-...of scolding from Soul or any apologies from you, nothing for me to get even with...!"

He gulped back some tears, rolling up his sleeve with his free hand like he always did before taking a shot. "...Until now."