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starlitiris · 7 days ago

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Sebastian x Reader x Painter polyamorous relationship headcanons!! Omg!!

So!! I’ve thought about this a few times and really like the idea of a Sebastian x Y/N x Painter poly, and I haven’t seen anything for this anywhere!! Like at all!!! The people out there who are polyamorous or would only be poly with fictional characters are NOT BEING FED!!!!! But it’s a good thing you guys have me 😎

Also im gonna be so fr with you guys, i intended for this to have multiple sections like. “How it started” then “sleeping arrangements” then “love languages” then “jealousy” and so on and so forth but the “how it started” bit ended up being WAY longer than I thought it would be 😭😭 so this is going to be in multiple parts. And just so yall know before hand, in this poly yall ALL are dating. Youre with sebastian and painter, sebastian is with you and painter, and painter is with you and sebastian!!! YALL ALL ARE SMOOCHING!!!!!!!!!

With that all being said… ENJOY!!! AND MAKE REQUESTS FOR THIS AU BC I WILL VERY LIKELY DO THEM!!! HAPPILY!!!!! Ignore my shitass divider i just dont like having nothing there

Update: I made a part 2

🦈 * ⛓️ * 🎨 * ⛓️ * 🦈 * ⛓️ * 🎨 * ⛓️ * 🦈 * ⛓️ * 🎨

How it started:

So the way I’ve been imagining this going has you as an expendable. You get close with Sebastian first since you typically see him more often (unless you count Painter trying to trick you with fake doors or turret you but that’s when he’s trying to kill you so I’m not counting it ☝️). At some point, you and Sebastian start talking, and the more you see him, the longer your conversations get. You start to form a friendship! And he actually likes you! Good for you you achieved the impossible and made the angry traumatized fish man like your presence!!! So you and Sebastian become friends first since you see him more frequently in a non-hostile setting. Your friendship with Painter was a slower burn since you didn’t get to meet him in his room every run, but whenever you met with him, you would talk. Just like with Sebastian, the more times you saw Painter, the longer your conversations would be. He at least was able to like you faster than Sebastian did! You’re fun to talk to, and you really listen to him. And you were relatively quick to forgive him for hurting you on your runs, so he appreciated that. Eventually Painter would stop giving you a hard time with doors and turrets, and would even start following you from room to room when he could on the monitors by the doors. It made your time in the blacksite a little more bearable.

Sebastian would start to develop feelings for you after some time. He looked forward to seeing you enter his shop every run, or making little quips at you whenever you would inevitably get killed again by one of the site’s many dangers. His quips used to be harsh and ill-intended, but now they were friendly and teasing. You didn’t like getting teased for not hearing the wall dweller behind you or for accidentally falling into pits of lava, but you usually couldn’t help but smile while you rolled your eyes at him. You had developed feelings for him, too. That’s why you let him get away with it so often.

There was one day where you entered Sebastian’s shop, and he seemed… off. He was still smiling at you, but he seemed tired. Or… sad. It was a little difficult to tell, but you knew something was wrong. You tried to brush it off at first. You didn’t wanna push him to talk about it if he clearly didn’t want to, so you bought a few items and got ready to leave.

Okay, you couldn't help yourself. He looked miserable and it was worrying you. Before you left, you asked Sebastian if he was alright.

“Hm? Of course! I’m fine. Go on, if you stay too long they might start to get suspicious,” he joked, trying to divert the attention off of himself.

You weren’t convinced. But if he didn’t wanna talk about it, you weren’t about to press him on it. You learned the hard way that pushing him to talk when he wasn’t ready wasn’t a good idea. So you turned and began to kneel down at the vent.

But then he called your name.

You stopped, standing up again and turning to face him. He paused, unsure if he should continue. But then he confessed.

He confessed to falling for you. He told you he knows you probably don’t feel the same way, but god, was he in love with you. He said he felt like an idiot for letting himself get this attached to you. He apologized because he knows you two were supposed to be against each other, and loving you only made things more complicated. It made things harder than they already were.

He said he was sorry for falling in love with you.

Then you said you loved him, too.

He seemed surprised. He never would’ve expected you to return his feelings- I mean hell, look at him. He was a giant shark, fish, whale, snake… thing. And he was mean, and in a lot of ways, emotionally unavailable. Who could fall for someone like him?

Well… obviously you, of course. But he didn’t understand why. Quite frankly, though, in this exact moment, he doesn’t care. He’s just happy. Relieved. And then he’s sad again, even as you hold his hand and caress his cheek. You’re feeling the same way he is. Happy and relieved, but sad knowing that this unfortunately doesn’t change the fact that the world has pinned you against each other.

You stay for a while, but eventually, as always, you have to go. You kiss him on the cheek before you leave. Later on, you meet Painter again after he finds you on the cameras. You tell him about your interaction with Sebastian, and he’s happy for you! But sad, too. Sigh… if only there was a way they could escape and bring you with them 😔💔

Omg Painter just had the best idea ever they could escape and take you with them!!!!! He proposes this idea to Sebastian first. You could keep helping them to gather research while you keep “trying to retrieve the crystal”. And after you all stalled for enough time, boom!!! You could just ditch the place and escape with them!!! It was true that overtime, you were getting a lot better at avoiding dangers. You made it a little bit further into the blacksite with almost every run. Sebastian and Painter knew that eventually, you would likely be able to escape with the crystal. So… in order for this plan to work… youuuu would kind of have to purposely fail until you could all escape. Sebastian didn’t like that. Honestly, neither did Painter. But it was the only plan they had that they believed could work.

You didn’t necessarily like the idea either when they proposed it to you, but you agreed. Dying sucked, but escaping and dooming your best friend and now-boyfriend to die was significantly worse. You knew you couldn’t just stay in Sebastian’s shop or whatever, cause if you never left, Urbanshade would definitely suspect that something was up. You were all honestly surprised that they let you stay with Sebastian or Painter as long as you did sometimes already. But you couldn’t stay. So! Dying over and over until you can escape it is!

Things continue exactly as planned. You gather as much research as you can for Sebastian, you die in between rooms 80 and 100, and you repeat the process. Your evolving relationship with Sebastian was going great throughout this. Your relationship with Painter was doing just as great, too! He was always so excited to see you!! Any chance he had to be with you, he would jump at immediately. At this point, you were seeing him more often than you were seeing Sebastian. Not that you minded. You enjoyed Painter’s presence just as much.

Painter started to notice that he felt… fluttery? When you were around? When you looked at him, when you joked with him, when you complimented his art- hell, even just THINKING about you made him feel all fuzzy and weird. Odd! Wonder what that’s about.

Finally, Innovation Inc gets back in contact with Sebastian, and all three of you are able to escape together. Sebastian found a way to disable your PDG, and you helped to get Painter out of his cage to bring him with you.

Innovation Inc gave you three a temporary room to stay in while you got things all sorted out with them. You specifically requested that you all sleep in the same place. At long last, you could finally snuggle with your boyfriend and sleep in the same bed. Or- nest. Of blankets and pillows. It was still comfortable. You and Sebastian both agreed that you didn’t want to be apart from Painter if you two got to be together, so he was there, too. None of you minded.

Innovation Inc agreed to build Painter a body so he could move freely on his own, and do other things he wanted to experience. It would take a few months for that to happen, but it was worth the wait. While you all waited for Painter’s body to be completed, he was brought with you and Sebastian everywhere you went. He watched the way you two held hands, kissed, hugged, and cuddled. The way you would lovingly tease each other, comfort each other, and say “I love you” back and forth.

He wants that. Painter realized that he wanted that. He wants what you and Sebastian have- he wants to be part of it. He wants to hold your guys’ hands, join your hugs and cuddles… kiss you. He wants to be able to gently pet you both when either of you wake up from a bad dream. He wants to hold you and tell you both… he loves you.

Painter loves you two.

Painter’s body was finished. Sebastian was helping get him connected to it, making adjustments here and there as needed. You were somewhere else in the facility finding things to celebrate this momentous moment with. Not that there was much at your disposal, but you were hoping to find something. This is something worth celebrating!

Painter watched Sebastian analyze his wires, cables, joints, and so on – really wanting everything to be working right. Painter was really excited about his new body, don’t get him wrong. But after his recent realization… all he can think about is you and Sebastian. All the things he wants to do with you, all the things he wants to say to you…

“I love you, Sebastian.”

He just blurted it out. He didn’t want it to be a secret anymore. He knows Sebastian has you, and you have Sebastian, but you both needed to know. He needed you to know.

Sebastian looked up at Painter’s screen, eyes wide and processing.

“You… what?” Sebastian was admittedly a little stunned.

“I love you. Like… you know… not just platonically. I think I’m in love with you,” Painter continued.

Sebastian really didn’t know what to say. While realizing what Painter was telling him, he felt… conflicted. A lot of thoughts and emotions swirled around in his head- there was too much going on for him to grab a thought, latch onto it, and put it into words.

Painter took his silence as an opportunity to continue and explain himself.

“And it’s not just you. I… I think I’m in love with Y/N, too. I love you- both of you. And I know, you and Y/N are together already, and I’m just… here. And maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I didn’t wanna keep it to myself anymore. Now that I’m saying it out loud, it kind of sounds selfish- and maybe I am. I don’t know… I just… I still wanna be your guys’ friend! I hope this doesn’t, uh… ruin what we all have going for us. I just… love you. A lot.”

Painter had finished his confession. Sebastian took it all in, word for word, rolling it around in his head to process everything. Painter’s feelings, his feelings, and what this meant for all of you. It took him a moment, but eventually, he responded.

“I love you, too,” Sebastian said, an undertone of sadness present in his voice. “Both of you.”

Painter went from being surprised, to being happy, to feeling immense dread and guilt and like him and Sebastian were probably kind of betraying you at the moment. Painter asked Sebastian what the hell they were supposed to do about this, and apologized for making everything so complicated.

Sebastian said, “Let’s just tell them. They deserve to know, regardless of what happens.”

His ear fins flicked, drooping low beside his head. He felt just as guilty as Painter did.

A few minutes later, you enter the room with a smile. You tell the two that you couldn’t find much, but you had things set up in your shared room! Then you stopped smiling. They both looked… sad. Sort of like dogs that knew they did something wrong and were about to get in trouble for it.

“Wwwhat’s going on…?” You asked.

And they explained. Painter started, admitting to you that he had fallen in love with both you and Sebastian. Then Sebastian took the stage, explaining to you that he returned Painter’s feelings. He said he still loved you just as much, and he wouldn’t be telling you this if he could avoid it with a sound conscience, but you deserved to know. He couldn’t look at you the entire time he spoke.

You stared. You processed. You thought.

And you laughed.

You laughed hard.

The two were confused. FLABBERGASTED. Why the hell were you laughing? Was this a bad laugh? Laughing at how absurd this was before you yelled at them for putting you in this situation? What the fuck is wrong with u????

You wiped away a tear as you tried to calm yourself down.

“I- I’m sorry-” you said through your giggling. “It’s just… I feel the same way! I’m in love with both of you. God, I felt so guilty when I realized I loved Painter, too, but now?” You laugh again. “Oh my god! We’re so stupid.”

Silence. Jaws on the floor.

Then Sebastian snorted.

And he laughed as well. “What?? Are you fucking serious??”

You told him that yes, you were serious. You both kept laughing.

Painter was still in shock.

“Wh… so- this WHOLE time… we all just… loved each other??? All of us???”

“Apparently!” You added.

Eventually, the absurdity of the whole thing had Painter laughing, too. You all felt pretty goofy for worrying so much, only to have you all find out that ALL the feelings were reciprocated.

When the laughter finally came to a halt, Painter asked a really good question.

“So… what do we do now?”

“Well… “ you started. “We could technically just… all date each other. That’s a thing some people do.”

“We could?” Painter asked with excitement. He had never even considered that.

“Huh…” Sebastian thought aloud. “Never thought I’d be the kind of guy that’s open to polyamory, but I like that. I think we could make it work,” he grinned, looking down at Painter to wait for his thoughts.

Painter smiled widely.

“Yeah!! Yeah, let’s do that!! I’d love that!” He exclaimed.

And with that, you were now in a polyamorous relationship with Sebastian and Painter. Sebastian had finished making sure Painter’s new body was put together the way it should be, so you all went back to your shared room to celebrate.

To celebrate Painter’s new body, AND your new relationship. And later that night, Painter was finally able to cuddle with you and Sebastian while you slept – even though he doesn’t exactly sleep the same way you two do. It was still very, very nice to have one of his fondest dreams come true.

And now that Painter’s body was finished, soon enough Innovation Inc would have a remote safe house ready for you three to live in on the surface. Painter couldn’t wait. None of you could.

You were finally getting your happy ending.

#pressure fanfic #roblox pressure headcanons #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x y/n #p.ai.nter x you #p.ai.nter x y/n #p.ai.nter x reader #sebastian x reader x p.ai.nter #sebastian x you x p.ai.nter #sebastian x y/n x p.ai.nter #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #EAT UP FISH AND PUTER KISSERS

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starlitiris · 7 days ago

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I have pressure x reader headcanons cooking…………………………..

#starlit’s bullshit

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starlitiris · 7 days ago

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“Where is the Justice?”

Chapter 7: Memento Mori

Summary: “Sebastian’s mutations have, for the most part, stopped. He is promoted to MR-P, and is finally able to work again. I would also like to personally and sincerely apologize to mischellaneous_bones on ao3 and eaterof_concrete on Tumblr for the contents of this chapter. Please read the notes at the end if this chapter leaves you utterly heartbroken </3

This chapter is written partially from Sebastian’s POV.”

~ ⚖️ ~

[Grief

Is a beast.

A wicked, unforgiving creature that will try with all its might to crush you under its entire weight.

It sinks it claws into you before you realize it’s even there. It breathes down your neck, breath harsh and cold. A constant reminder that it’s present.

It wears you down, the weight of it too much to bear some days. You pray that when you sleep, it too, will slumber. But it doesn’t. It never sleeps.

It permeates your life, unrelenting in its mission to do everything in its power to strip you of everything that you are.

It wants to see you wither – to eat at you from the inside out until you are nothing more than an empty shell of what you once were.

It will use every trick up its sleeve to see to it that you crumble and dissipate.

Unforgiving. Unrelenting.

It uses its methods of consumption in whichever order it deems fit, according to the person and the situation – to the prey and the environment.

Though, usually, it will start with the one tactic that seldom fails to get the ball rolling:

Denial.]

August 22nd, 2014

He’s dead.

He’s been dead for months, and I’m just now finding out about it.

I’ve been locked up like some lab rat for half a year, and I’m just now finding out that Malachi’s been dead for more than half that time?

I asked about him. I asked them about him. I asked if I could see him, or if I could at least talk to him. No one bothered to say a goddamn thing.

They knew. And they didn’t tell me.

Why? Because I was going through hell and they didn’t wanna put me in worse shape? Or did they just not care?

Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. Nobody down here gives a damn about anybody with “LR-P” on their shirt. If they did, they wouldn’t have put me through hell for the better part of a year. They wouldn’t have let Malachi die this way.

They don’t care. This is their fault, and they don’t give a rat’s ass.

God, I can’t fucking believe it.

[Denial is a defense mechanism used to protect oneself from the hardship of considering an upsetting reality. It can feel like shock, or numbness. It can look like feigned blissful ignorance. It’s an internal battle of tug-of-war – the push and pull of realization. We fight to stay in the delusion that the past is still the present, while reality keeps rearing its ugly head back into our field of vision. We try to turn away, or close our eyes. But eventually, we will have to look its way again. We will have to open our eyes.]

August 24th, 2014

They promoted me to MR-P to “compensate for my troubles.”

What a load of shit. Do they really think that a bigger room to myself and arts and crafts every wednesday is enough to make up for turning me into a freak? Sure, this room is bigger than my old cell, but I hardly fit in it. It’s cramped. And as much as I’ll appreciate the alone time, I was really hoping to see Malachi again…

…

I can’t think about it. It hurts too much.

Y’know what, maybe he’s not dead. Maybe they lied- or the guy I asked thought I was talking about another guy named Malachi. I mean… it’s not that uncommon of a name. And I won’t be hanging out with any LR-P as much anymore, so if I don’t see him around, it doesn’t mean that he’s dead. It just means he’s… not around. He’s somewhere else.

… That’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Because I can’t face the alternative. Not right now. Not after everything.

I can’t accept that he’s gone. He was the last thing that I had, I… He is the last thing I have.

He’s all I have.

He’s my best friend.

… He has to be okay.

[Anger is what will come next in some cases. When something bad happens to us, we often look for something – or someone – to blame. We become frustrated, hopeless to fight against the tides of change and tragedy. We want to have control over what happens to us, and in the face of reality, where we are harshly informed that we have no control, frustration melds into rage. We get angry. And we realize; we cannot control what has happened to us, but we can control who is at fault.]

September 7th, 2014

It’s been a few weeks, I think. Since I found out that he was dead.

It didn’t feel real. He really was the only friend I had down here, and now he’s gone.

I talked to a guy that knew him and heard about the situation back when it happened. He said Malachi was out in the water with a small group of other LR-P inmates doing routine maintenance on the canons. According to the prisoners that came out alive, there was a current that yanked away one of the team members. He got sucked out into the void, started freaking out about parasites, and Malachi went out to help him get back with the group.

A trenchbleeder crushed them both. A trenchbleeder. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that is? A trenchbleeder. Malachi and that other asshole didn’t die because they were stupid and didn’t follow instructions. They died because they’re supervisor, who wasn’t even out in the water with them because he didn’t feel like putting a wetsuit on, wasn’t paying attention. The prick was too busy chatting it up with a coworker to do his damn job. If he had been paying attention like he was supposed to then he could’ve radioed Malachi in time to tell him to watch out for the giant metal foot that was meters above him. He could’ve ordered the person operating the trenchbleeder to stop the damn thing in time.

His death was avoidable. It was completely preventable, but he was killed anyway because we’re nothing but scum to these people. It doesn’t matter if we deserve to be here or not, we’re all the same to them. Human garbage with no value, and that somehow makes it okay to put us in these dangerous situations, and not give a damn when one of us dies.

They had a couple guys scrape their remains off that thing’s foot. They had to scrape my best friend off of that thing.

They did this to him. They killed him.

He had a little sister. She probably thought he was dead way back when he was first brought here, but he had a little sister. He had a family that loved him. And he was a good man.

… He didn’t deserve this. We didn’t deserve this.

[Then, we bargain. We ask ourselves “what if”, and wonder “if only”. We ponder the events that led up to the tragedy. We try to rewrite the story in our heads, praying that if we think on it hard enough, it will become true. We scavenge our minds for a way out. For anything we could do to reverse what happened. But we are only human. We cannot go back in time.]

October 11th, 2014

I wish it were me.

He should be alive right now. His supervisor should’ve been watching. His supervisor should’ve said something. He should’ve not been a good guy for once and just left that guy out there to die. Most of these guys are dicks, anyway. Why go out of your way to help them, if they wouldn’t help you?

It should’ve been me. It’s not like I’ve been enjoying being alive since I got here, anyway. But Malachi… he had his days, but he found ways to be happy. He made the best out of the hand he was dealt. He was doing good. Better than most of us. And he made people laugh. He made people smile. He was nice to people who didn’t deserve it. And he put up with my miserable ass the entire time we knew each other. He was a great guy.

I wish we could swap places. Not that I want him to undergo experiments and surgeries and come out of it looking like the cousin that The Little Mermaid doesn’t talk about, but at least he would be alive.

I want him to be alive. I want to bring him back.

I wish I could just… go to sleep, wake up, and have him here. Alive.

I wish I could wake up and be human again. Be home. Be okay.

My partner would’ve loved Malachi. He would’ve loved them, too.

…

[At some point, the worst part of it will settle in– the depression. It's a dark, deep hole that you’re shoved into. At times, it can be so deep that you look up and can no longer see the sky. Just bleak, suffocating darkness. It drains you. It tires you. It takes the brightest parts of you, and buries them in shadow. It becomes hard to fight against that beast, when all you can feel is hopeless and numb.]

November 3rd, 2014

I’m so tired. I don’t sleep, I can hardly eat. I just feel…

I don’t know what I feel.

Without Malachi here, every day is just so… dull. And boring.

I’m alone without him.

Nobody really talks to me. Not that I want to talk to anybody. But, still. Nobody talks to me. Well… about things not relating to my new appearance, that is. Which, frankly, is just as upsetting as if I wasn’t talked to at all, if not worse. It’s all people ever care to talk about with me. I hate it.

I miss Malachi. I miss my partner. I miss my mom and my siblings. I miss the children I never got to meet. I miss my life.

I’m so tired. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna be here.

I don’t want this.

[It is a hard and arduous battle. Facing reality, suppressing your anger, learning that you can’t undo what was done, and climbing out of that deep pit that is depression. Surviving grief. It has never been an easy fight to win. But, it is survivable. It is something that can be done. And when it is done, you will have your moment of clarity. Acceptance.]

December 19th, 2014

He’s gone. Malachi is gone, and in a way, so is my family. I’m on my own now. I probably will be until I die.

The world has taken everything from me. My future, my friends, my family, my freedom, my body.

The so called “justice system” convicted me of murders they had no evidence on me for. They sentenced me to death, and I was backed into a corner where I had to choose to die, or spend the rest of my days working for an organization that couldn’t care less about my well being. I was experimented on against my will, spent months in pain, undergoing tests and operations all while my body was changing too fast for me to process and understand. They’re still running tests on me to this day.

I may look like a monster now, but I know I am not one. I know who the real monsters are.

It’s the people that can take more away from a man than he thought he could lose, and still sleep soundly at night. The people who won’t feel an ounce of regret for getting an innocent man sentenced to death. The people who’ll horrifically disfigure somebody “in the name of science” and feel no remorse for the pain they caused. The people who will sit on their hands instead of doing what they’re paid to do, and let a good man die for no good reason at all.

Those people are the real monsters.

I have lost everything I could possibly lose to them. Everything they could take, they took.

I at least owe it to Malachi to keep some part of him alive with me. And if the little time I had with him taught me anything, it was, without a shadow of a doubt, this:

They may have stripped me of everything else,

but I still have myself.

And that is something nobody can take away from me.

~ ⚖️ ~

Ending Notes: Because of this chapter I’m going to have to make a spinoff series to answer “what if” questions, lore questions, and to write a one-off story where Malachi doesn’t die and gets to continue his bromance with Sebastian <///3

I hope this chapter doesnt suck, i seriously cannot tell bc ive been rereading it over and over since i wrote it 😭

Ao3

Chapter 6 - Chapter 8 (wip)

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x y/n #pressure x reader #whereisthejusticefic

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starlitiris · 10 days ago

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who i see, looking back at me (ch3)

pairing: sebastian solace x reader

mentions: post-urbanshade fic, no use of y/n or pronouns, u are his partner <3, hallucinations, non-sexual intimacy, yearning the yearning!!, touch aversion, hurt/comfort, tentative reconnecting, mild dissociating :)

a/n: i lied btw, there are now 5 chapters instead of 4. if u guys see the number increase again, know it was against my will. the characters do whatever tf they want, apparently. anyways, this chapter simultaneously feels like so much happens and also nothing at all. have fun!

word count: 12.3k+

masterlist | part two

ao3 link

You dreamt of a face, looming over your own as you laid supine on something soft.

Everything felt muddled—like you were sunk deeply underwater and still continued onward in your neverending descent. Details eluded you. Any sharp edges or angles were softened into nebulous clouds of seafoam green and teal, with light that gently painted the planes of your face in a tender touch. A quiet pressed along the sides of your head, stifling in its presence. You could not move. You were weighed down by something you could not define, your vision hazy and unfocused.

When you closed your eyes, the backs of your eyelids felt like they were awash in blue. Blue, blue, blue. Infinite, it seemed. Just like the ocean, a distant part of you thought.

You breathed in and out. Calm. Quiet. Then, you opened your eyes. Properly, this time.

The ceiling of your room was coated in shadows broken apart only by a fragile light coming from your slightly parted curtains. You stared, gaze half-lidded, up at it. Not really seeing it. Not really processing. Distantly, you could feel the pull of sleep once more. But you could not bring yourself to return to it. Could not manage to fall back into a slumber even if you tried.

So you dragged yourself up until you were sitting in bed, blanket sprawled across your legs. Your upper body slumped like you were a puppet cut from its strings. And you just stared forwards.

Sebastian—fake Sebastian, not real Sebastian—stared back.

You didn’t move a muscle. You only watched him—unblinking, eyelids heavy like they were weighed. There was something rooting you to your bed, a heavy pit in your gut that made it difficult to do anything other than stare.

It was quiet. So, very, quiet.

“Why are you still here?” you murmured after what felt like hours and hours of sitting there. Dawn had long passed, the bright light of the sun poking its way into your room to splay across the floor. You blinked slowly at him—nonchalant as he was where he stood across from the foot of your bed all this time.

His gaze lowered as his smile widened to show off each and every one of his teeth. It was not a kind look. A chill ran its fingers down your spine.

“You know why,” was all he said. He continued to stare at you, his hands tucked inside his pockets. Waiting, almost. Maybe even expectantly.

Your jaw tensed and when you swallowed, you could feel the dryness of your throat. Your gaze flicked over to your closed bedroom door, then back at him again. You did not like this.

“I’m working on it,” you whispered, momentarily closing your eyes so you could grip at the unsteady pieces of yourself and pull them together. Even now, you could still see all that blue, etched into your eyelids. Blue and gray and gray and blue. Soft and unfamiliar.

You sighed—long and deep and vaguely unsteady. Then you turned away.

Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rolled your shoulders and leaned over to grab your phone from the nearby nightstand. Clicking it on, you squinted down at the time. Shit. If you didn’t get a move on, you’d be late for work. You slipped out of bed, bare feet coming into contact with the cool floor. There was a certain grogginess that still lingered in your body and mind. You yawned and rubbed at your eye as you shuffled over to your door. But before you could open it, you hesitated and took a moment to listen beyond it.

There was nothing. Not a peep or a shift. Looking down at the crack between the door and the floor, you saw only darkness. No faint light seeping through it—like there wasn’t anyone there. Doubt was beginning to sink its unrelenting tendrils into your body. It was so easy to imagine that the room just past your bedroom door was vacant. That there was only your couch and your television and your coffee table. Still and lifeless. A breath being held before the inevitable chaos of morning.

But no, you told yourself again and again and again. This was real. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel the cool, hard texture of Sebastian’s hand in yours. The smooth metal of his ring as you ran your thumb over it. This was real, and you would keep repeating it to yourself for as long as it took to properly settle in.

You sighed, long and silent. Well, the day wasn’t going to wait for you to start.

Gripping at the doorknob, you quietly cracked the door open and squinted into the dim light of your living room. It was darker than usual—an explanation made imminent when you glanced at your windows to see their curtains had all been tightly closed. You could still see sunlight fighting to make its way through the thin material, so it wasn’t like it was completely dark. You just had not expected it, really.

Turning your gaze back towards the contents of the room, you noticed Sebastian had moved some things around. Not by much. The couch was pushed back a little and the coffee table was off to the side of the television instead of in front of it. All to make space for Sebastian’s large body—tightly coiled as it was in the spot between the couch and television.

You lingered curiously for a moment over the way his tail looped around like a snake to form a makeshift bed for him. And when you finally glanced over to his face, you saw that he was already watching you. Something in your gut jumped slightly when you made eye contact with him. Over his head like some sort of shawl was the blanket you’d gotten him last night—a defense against the yawning sunlight, most likely.

“Good morning,” you greeted to break the silence, though soft enough to not disturb the sleepy morning atmosphere.

“G’mornin’,” he murmured back at you, lifting himself up from his tail to squint blearily at you through the dim. His voice was raspy and deep with the edge of sleep. Fatigue. It made something in your stomach twinge.

He raised himself up, dropping the pillow he’d been hugging to stretch out his arms—strange to look at, honestly, with three of them attached to his torso—and tugged at the lure on his head to turn it on. You shuffled over to the bathroom to brush your teeth in the meantime and found yourself wondering if you should offer him a toothbrush. Not that it would do much, you thought to yourself as you ran the small bristles along your teeth. His teeth were large and sharp—jutting in his mouth like the jagged edge of a mountain. The teeth of a predator.

And wasn’t that strange to think about? You suppressed a shiver.

You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to give him one, even though you were sure he’d probably have a difficult time holding the tiny thing in his hand. Might even accidentally break it, honestly.

After you finished refreshing up in the bathroom, you exited it and caught his eye almost immediately. He watched you in a nearly lazy manner, head propped atop a hand from where he was using his tail as a rest of sorts.

You jutted your thumb behind you at the bathroom. “There should be spare toothbrushes in the cabinet if you want to use one.”

Sebastian blinked at you slowly, then opened his mouth to purposely run a light blue tongue over the front of his teeth. He smacked his lips together and gave you a look.

“Don’t think you got anything that can deal with these nasty things,” he said dryly. You rolled your eyes at his response.

“It’s better than nothing,” you replied with a shrug and turned to shuffle back over to your bedroom to grab your work clothes. “You can at least use some mouthwash.” He only hummed after you, not moving an inch even as you could feel him continuing to follow you with his gaze.

Your clothes were thrown on in record time and you grabbed your work bag from the back of your bedroom door to head over to the kitchen. Rubbing at your chin, you opened the refrigerator and took a moment to peer at its contents. You had enough leftovers for another day, but that wasn’t accounting for Sebastian and his… larger form. You glanced over at your sink and saw that there were no dirty dishes in there from last night. It didn’t seem like he had eaten anything. You frowned. Maybe you should go grocery shopping.

“I think I’m gonna go to the store after work,” you called out at him as you grabbed ingredients for a quick sandwich to make for your lunch. “Anything you want in particular?”

There was a thoughtful hum—so low and close that you jumped slightly and looked over your shoulder to find that he had followed you into the kitchen. He loomed almost directly behind you, his hair slightly mussed from the blanket he’d had over his head. How you hadn’t heard him slip into the tiny space, you would never know.

He seemed to hesitate as you watched him, your arms full of bread and condiments. Then, “Actually, can you grab me a burger and a pack of Marlboros?”

You paused, processing his request in your mind. “Sure,” you eventually said, nudging the refrigerator’s door closed with your hip. Grocery shopping could wait for another day. “We can do takeout for dinner, I suppose. But…” It was your turn to hesitate, and as you took in the way he clasped two of his hands together—not quite able to meet your gaze—you felt your eyebrows crease. “You… still smoke?” You didn’t think he’d have access to cigarettes in a, well, underwater facility. It’d certainly force him to quit cold turkey.

He shrugged idly as you headed over to the tiny kitchen table to dump all your ingredients on it and start slapping together a simple sandwich. “Yeah, sometimes I was able to get a pack when they upgraded my living arrangements,” he said vaguely, his eyes focused on your hands. He turned to look out at the living room. “Helps take the edge off, y’know?”

Your head bobbed in some semblance of understanding, even as your lips pulled down in a frown. “Well, okay,” you told him warily, briefly glancing up at him. “Just… try not to make it a habit, alright?” Again, you mentally added.

He snorted and suddenly seemed very interested in toying with his lure. “Right.”

Your sandwich was made and packed neatly away into your bag. The ingredients were put back in their proper locations. You did a final pat down to make sure you had everything, then slipped out of the kitchen with a banana clutched in your hand as a meager breakfast. You had to scoot around the thick curls of Sebastian’s tail, the muscles just under his scales shifting as he moved to accommodate for your path. You didn’t want to step over him. Everything seemed so cramped, all of a sudden, and you weren’t sure how that made you feel exactly.

No use deliberating it now. You were running late.

“Again, help yourself to anything,” you told him as you tugged on a light jacket by the front door and bent down to make quick work of your shoes. “I’ve got some books laying around if you’re bored and the T.V. remote should be somewhere if you wanna watch something.”

“I think I’ll manage,” you heard him reply, his voice low and amused.

You exhaled through your nose. Straightening up, you fixed your clothing—doing a final check of your reflection in a mirror you had hanging on the wall near the door—then finally looked towards him.

Him, Sebastian. As he curled in front of you a short distance away after following behind you like an ever present shadow. Hands clasped together with his half-lidded gaze and golden lure gently illuminating the space around you.

(“I’m out for work!” Sebastian called, his voice echoing through your apartment to reach where you were in the bedroom.

“Okay!” you called back, preoccupied with picking out what you were going to wear for the day. Hmm, beige or burgundy? “Be safe!”

There was a beat of silence. Then:

“Um, excuse me,” Sebastian’s disembodied voice said dryly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You snorted and rolled your eyes as you set your clothes down on the bed. Exiting the room, you met his expectant look with your own amused one while you walked over to him waiting by the door.

He bent down closer towards you once you stopped in front of him, raven hair framing the sides of his face. Your hands found the collar of his jacket, where you fixed it properly so that one of the flaps wasn’t raised. Honestly, how did he not notice it before? There was a mirror on the wall right next to the door.

“Bye,” you told him purposely, tilting your head back so you could press a kiss to his waiting lips. He tasted faintly of nicotine and frozen waffles—a rather… interesting combo, you supposed. You could feel the way he smiled smugly against your mouth. He hummed into the kiss, and you broke away to give him a small grin. “That better?”

“Much, thank you,” he replied, a certain twinkle to his gaze as he stared adoringly down at you. His cheek dimpled on his right. “And don’t you ever forget again. There’ll be a price to pay and I’m afraid you won’t like it.” He paused, then shrugged. “Or maybe you will.”

“Oh shut up.” You slapped lightly at his chest and shoved him towards the door with a laugh.)

You took a deep breath. In, then out. Silent. It felt like an infinity resided in the few seconds you both stood there. Waiting.

Your lips pressed together, and you eventually gave him a small, unsure smile.

“…Bye,” you said, opening the door to let in a small stream of sunlight. His eyes squinted slightly at it, but you found you couldn’t quite look at him. How the tables have turned. “Be back later.”

The light of his lure dimmed slightly. “Have a good day,” he murmured with a gentle wave of his third arm, something indescribable to his gaze that you couldn’t quite make out before the door had already been shut in his face.

Your stomach churned, upset and tight.

As you drove to work, you just couldn’t get that image out of your head. Sebastian, in the middle of your tiny living room. Too large. Too much. His body held in a way where he seemed to be pulled towards you, yet also…. not. Subtle enough that any less observant person would not have noticed.

You sighed, a deep and long thing that did nothing to ease the tension lining your shoulders.

Work was busy, not allowing you to sink too deeply into your thoughts as you darted around the clinic. A reprieve, almost, from the events of the last couple of days. You were grateful, but by the end of your shift, you were back at square one. Always, your mind drifted back to him. Him, him, him. You knew nothing else.

Standing on line at the nearest fast food joint, you stared unfocused at the menu displayed on a small flat screen television behind the counter. How much did he even need to eat now anyways? You weren’t entirely sure, but even the size of his torso was so much more that you were certain it was nowhere near the amount you ate on a daily basis. Were there things he couldn’t eat anymore? Were there things he was partial to? There was a conversation to be had, especially if you were to go grocery shopping sometime in the not-so-distant future. You didn’t want to poison him by accident or something.

When it was your turn to order, you got a sandwich and fries for yourself. For Sebastian, you bought a triple decker burger, then—after pondering it with furrowed brows—you ordered another. And two extra large fries. And a couple bottled drinks. Hopefully it would be enough for now. If not then, well, he could raid your kitchen.

After a quick run into a convenience store for the rest of his requested items, you started on your way home. The drive was quick, the golden glow of the sun dipping to kiss the horizon casting itself gently through the windshield of your car. You pulled into the gravelly driveway of your cottage and grabbed your bags from the passenger seat. Then, you locked up your car and bustled over to your front door. The curtains you could see just behind the front-facing windows were still tightly drawn.

As you unlocked the door, you called out an “I’m home!” and shuffled properly inside. Silence greeted you. Closing the door was like pinching the flame of a candle to douse it, a fragile darkness taking over. You looked around, blinking in an attempt to get your eyes to adjust faster.

You could just make out Sebastian’s form coiled in front of the couch. He was staring down at something in his hands, but you couldn’t quite make out what, exactly. Toeing off your shoes, you gently placed your work bag on the ground next to them and picked your way over to him.

“Sebastian?” you murmured, your hands gripping at the fast food bag as you came to a stop somewhere to his right. Faintly, there was the smell of fish. It felt like you were standing in a bubble that resided outside of time—if you even exhaled too loudly it would pop and the moment would be lost forever.

His ear fin twitched slightly, and his head jerked like he was glancing at you from the corner of his eye before looking back down at his hands. You waited for him to speak, your gaze trained on the side of his face—unreadable as it was.

“What’d you keep this old thing for?” he eventually rasped out. You peered down at his hands to see he was holding onto the flannel you usually kept hanging on the back of your bedroom door. You hadn’t touched it in… a while. But it still hung there, unwilling as you were to pack it away out of sight. His thumbs smoothed over the checkered fabric. “Hardly seems worth saving.”

“It was your favorite,” you replied simply as you continued to observe him. He only grunted. The faint glow from his eyes looked airbrushed along his hands and arms. It made you feel as though you were underwater. You found yourself adding, “I kept some other things, too.”

“Did you, now?” He hummed and shot you a sharp grin. “Couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried, huh?” It was a weak attempt at a joke, you knew.

“No,” you told him, gaze softening. “Never could.”

Sebastian exhaled, long and faint and vaguely unsteady. You held your hand out, and after one long, contemplative moment, he gently dropped the flannel onto your palm—his grip nearly mechanical as he released it. Your fingers curled into the soft clothing.

“Here,” you said as you offered him your other hand holding onto the fast food bag. “Go set the table. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He cleared his throat and carefully took the bag from your grip. With an unoccupied hand, he gave you a salute. “Yoooouuu got it, boss!” There was a cheer to his voice that you knew was forced, but you didn’t point it out.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and slowly made your way to your room, a soothing light flickering on behind you from Sebastian tugging on his lure. Well, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about your light bill now, you thought wryly to yourself. Shaking your head slightly, you hung the flannel back in its designated spot. Then, you beelined straight for your closet and spent a bit digging around until you located that box of Sebastian’s things. Unsealed and unassuming. You shifted it around in your hold, drumming your fingers along the cardboard thoughtfully.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you saw that Sebastian had neatly laid out everything from the bag onto the wooden table. Wrapped sandwiches, cartons of fries, bottles of drinks. In one of his hands resided the pack of cigarettes that you had tucked into the bag after purchasing them from the store. The accompanying lighter you got for them was in his other hand, and he rotated it around idly for a moment before pocketing it and the Marlboros in his jacket.

You noticed he had moved one of the chairs away from the table to take its spot, his tail coiled underneath him. You guessed it was just easier for him to avoid any furniture at all, given his size. Especially a small table chair like that. You walked over and set the box down on an unoccupied surface of the table.

“It’s not much,” you said as you pushed it slightly towards him. His gaze flicked down to eye the partially open flaps. “But well… I just couldn’t give them away.”

“What’d you end up doing with all my stuff anyways?” he asked curiously as you wandered over to the sink to wash your hands—stepping carefully around his tail occupying the space of your kitchen. There was a light shifting sound as he poked around in the box that stopped almost as soon as it had started. The light illuminating the kitchen dimmed ever so slightly. His tail twitched behind him.

“Sold them,” you replied as casually as you could, drying off your hands and making your way back to the table. “Or donated. Gave your mom some things too.”

As you sat down, Sebastian lowered himself so that he wouldn’t tower over you from where he was positioned across the table. It didn’t do much. You still felt like you were sitting before a minor giant, forced to lean back in your seat lest you strained your neck looking up at him. You had to suppress a frown. He tapped his fingers atop the table’s surface. You noticed the box was no longer sitting where you’d originally placed it. In fact, he had set it on the ground—out of sight, out of mind. You did not acknowledge it.

“Did you give her my guitar?” he asked, maybe a little hopefully, but you shook your head. He frowned. “My Xbox?” Another shake of your head. “Damn. Lucas didn’t want them?”

“Nope.”

“My most prized possessions,” he complained, crossing his arms over his chest. “Gone, just like that.”

“My bad,” you said dryly, reaching out to grab your sandwich and unwrap it. “I should’ve known to keep them for when you would obviously return.”

He clicked his tongue. “Shame on you for not having the foresight to do so, honestly.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh shut up and eat your food.”

He smirked and grabbed one of his sandwiches. Even a triple decker seemed so small in his hold. How was that supposed to satisfy him? You frowned into your sandwich as you took a bite, trying not to make it obvious you were watching him as he carefully tore off the wrapping with the tips of his fingers.

He held the burger close to his face, peering at it with half-lidded eyes. “I don’t even remember the last time I had a burger,” he murmured and turned it this way and that. Inspecting it thoughtfully. Some of the mayonnaise slapped into it seeped out of the sides as his grip tightened.

The glow of his lure was like a spotlight as it illuminated everything beneath it. You and him, crowded around your little table in your little kitchen. Nothing else existed outside of it. How strange, you mulled to yourself. You could feel something stir in the pit of your stomach—following the haze of a distant memory that felt just a tad too out of reach.

You hummed, eyeing his upper body as he finally took a bite that was large enough to demolish half of his burger at once. A lithe torso with lithe limbs attached to it. A looseness to his clothing. Even a gauntness to his face if you paid close enough attention to it past his scarf. The implications of it all settled around your neck like a noose.

“What did they even feed you?” you wondered, gesturing at him slightly with your partially eaten sandwich. He did not tell you much, in hindsight, about his time trapped underwater. What he did on a day-by-day basis. It was purposeful, but still, you were morbidly curious.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re assuming they fed me at all,” he said as he grinned that shark-toothed grin of his.

You paused to take in his words, then felt yourself give him a concerned look. Worry creased your eyebrows together. His grin faltered minutely—so minute, in fact, that you almost thought it hadn’t at all.

“Kidding!” he exclaimed suddenly, his eyes crinkling and smile stretching in a way that did not reassure you one bit. “I’m kidding! It was mostly fish.” You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. It only made your frown deepen. You were doing that a lot tonight, it seemed.

“…Right,” you said, unconvinced. You nibbled on a fry, the salt deliciously coating your tongue. “I’m guessing you’re pretty sick of it, then.” Mentally, you crossed fish off your list of foods to buy at the grocery store.

“You have no idea,” he muttered sullenly, polishing off the rest of his burger and reaching for the second. There was a glob of mayonnaise on his cheek. Your gaze softened.

(“Baby,” you said amusedly, watching him shovel the last bits of dinner into his mouth. There was marinara sauce all over his mouth. “You’re a mess.”

“Well that’s just rude,” he huffed, eyeing you haughtily, “you don’t see me attacking you outta nowhere like that.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You picked up a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table and gestured at him. “Come here.”

He tilted his head at you but complied, leaning in closer across the table. You carefully wiped at his mouth, running the napkin tenderly over his lips and chin. You made sure not to tug too harshly on his lip ring; he’d told you before that it still bled pretty easily. He watched you with all the focus in the world, his gaze trained on your face. And when you deemed him clean enough, you gave him a little smile and tapped at the tip of his nose with your finger. His eyes crossed to look at the motion.

“There,” you said, satisfied, as you leaned back in your seat. “All clean.”

He mirrored your movement, then set his chin on top of his fist as his eyes crinkled warmly at you. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grinned sharply.

You only grinned back. “Not really, no.”)

“You’ve got a little—” You gestured to your face. When all he did was blink at you rather obliviously, you huffed out a little laugh and grabbed a napkin. For a moment—a short, inconsequential moment—you hesitated. Then, you offered it to him. “Here.”

He looked down at your hand. And after another short, inconsequential moment, he reached out so he could take it, extra cautious to ensure his claws didn’t catch on your fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled and wiped at his face. You only offered him a smile.

“So!” You snagged another couple of fries, ready to push all of… that behind you. “Anything you can or cannot eat? I’m thinking of doing groceries tomorrow.”

He hummed thoughtfully, his third hand’s fingers tapping at the table while his other two focused on unwrapping his other burger. “Not really, no. Surprisingly I kept most of my ah, digestive abilities, you could say,” he told you dryly. “Although, I seem to crave more of a, mmmm, meat heavy diet.” He smiled strangely and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Meat heavy, got it.” You took a mental note of that. “Got any food requests, then?”

“Completos,” he said immediately, looking at you rather intently. “God, fuck, I’ve never craved anything so badly. Barros Lucos, too.”

You nodded, adding all the ingredients you would need to your list. Hot dogs, avocados, tomatoes… “Anything else?”

The two of you spent a while coming up with meals to make over the next few weeks—which essentially amounted to Sebastian listing things he had missed or wanted with the faintest of rasps to his voice. Spaghetti, butter chicken, quesadillas. You had to grab your phone so you could make a proper list or you’d forget it all. With each one, you could feel your heart sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. An ache you were all too familiar with reared its ugly head. And you didn’t know how to deal with it.

At one point, though—while telling you the ingredients so he could make Charquicán—something seemed to shift within him. You weren’t sure what happened. Only that he quieted down and took on a more… ruminative air. You didn’t press him when it occurred. You just offered a few other options for meals, then let a silence settle between you both as you finished up your meals.

Eventually, though, you decided to gently prod him. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Sebastian slowly blinked down at the table. Then, his eyes seemed to flick up towards you and off to the side. He snorted out a laugh, but you could tell it was half-hearted. “Gonna take a lot more than a penny for them,” he tried humorlessly. When you only patiently waited for him to continue, he sighed and his third arm wrapped itself around his abdomen.

He avoided your gaze, raven hair partially covering his face. “Do you… still talk to my mom?”

Ah. That explained it. Your tongue suddenly felt dry in your mouth. “I do. Your siblings, too.”

His head snapped towards you, and for one split second—he looked hopeful. His mouth opened, then closed. And he hesitated, expression scrunching slightly as his hands fidgeted with each other.

You took the chance to gently ask, “Do you… want to see them?”

“I— of course I do. Is that even a question?” he blurted, then seemed to reel himself back in. He looked apprehensive, his lips pressing together. “It’s just… I…” he trailed off. Unwilling to voice the thoughts that swirled around in his head. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they revolved around.

“It doesn’t have to be right away,” you told him in a soothing manner. “Lucas won’t be free until next month anyways. I can invite them over around then. We have time.”

“Right,” he forced out. He twisted the ring around his finger. “Right. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you echoed back at him. And after taking in his closed off demeanor—his reluctance to fully face you—you decided a distraction was in order. “Alright, how about we watch a movie?”

He agreed—lost in thought as he was—and you shooed him off to the living room while you cleaned up in the kitchen. You set the chairs back in place at the table and noticed the box was gone from where Sebastian had placed it on the ground. And when you walked over to join him by the couch, you saw that he was holding that panda plushie in one of his hands. The box sat innocently on your coffee table, flaps wide open. His thumb ran repeatedly over the plushie’s short fuzz, a distant look on his face.

You grabbed the remote and plopped yourself down on the side of the couch he wasn’t sitting in front of. His tail curved out to the side so that it wouldn’t be in the way—a hulking mass that reached towards the front door with how he positioned it. You took a moment to compare his upper body’s presumed weight with the sturdiness of the couch.

You cleared your throat, and he tore himself away from the plushie to look at you. “Y’know, you could probably sit on the couch if you wanted. I think it can hold your weight.” Or some of it, anyways. Definitely not with the rest of his lengthy tail.

He made a face, disbelieving. “Are you sure about that?”

Your head swayed side to side as you considered. “Mmh, yeah. Like ninety-seven percent sure.”

“And the other three percent?” he asked flatly.

You shrugged and had to suppress a smile. “Well, in the event that you did break the couch… it would be pretty fucking funny.” You grinned at him when he gave you an unimpressed look. “Come on, have trust in my couch. She hasn’t failed me yet.” You gave the cushion next to you a little pat.

He eyed you and the cushion dubiously, then seemed to cave when you only patted it a little harder. “Alright, fine. But I sure as shit am not paying for it if it does.”

You watched as he lifted himself up—the muscles of his tail tensing underneath his scales—and carefully eased his weight onto the couch. Not too close, not too far. Just enough for there to be a foot’s worth of space between you and him.

The moment he stopped holding himself up completely, his form sinking into the couch cushion, you felt your body inadvertently tilt towards him—off balance with the additional weight. You made a surprised sound as you caught yourself before you could fall onto him, your hands grasping at the armrest of the couch you were closest to. You scooted yourself closer to it, heart beating wildly in your ears. A low warmth crawled up into your cheeks that you willed away.

The couch creaked as Sebastian finally settled in. And after a second of you both holding your breath and waiting, you exhaled and shot him a smug look. “Told you so.”

“I don’t remember you being this annoying,” he said, though the lightness to his voice told you he was messing with you. “Were you always this annoying?”

You scoffed and had to resist the urge to reach over to shove him. Not that it would do anything. “Shut up. What do you wanna watch?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got years of movies to catch up on, I don’t really care.” After saying that, though, he seemed to mull it over in his head. And then quietly—so, so quietly you had to hold your breath to hear it—he mumbled, “D’you… got any new favorite movies?”

You turned his question over in your head. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Let’s watch those, then.”

“Hmm.” Your gaze softened while you watched him, a warmth settling deeply in your stomach. He didn’t turn to look at you, instead electing to stare down at the plushie still in his hold. “Okay.”

You managed to stay focused on the movie you pulled up for about a quarter of its length. And then you got distracted with stealing glances at Sebastian. He paid attention to the film for the most part—the glow of his eyes stark with him having turned his lure off—but every so often you caught him staring distractedly either at the box sitting on your coffee table or the plushie in his hand. Quiet. Contemplative in a way that was haunting.

You debated saying something. Part of you wanted to just pretend you hadn’t picked up on anything—for his sake or your own, you weren’t sure. But eventually you gave in when he seemed too deeply lost in thought, vacant look to his eyes.

You cleared your throat and made a show of warily eyeing the plushie in his hand. Memories from a time long passed flowed through your mind. “I hope you’re not planning to do anything with that.”

Sebastian blinked back to the present. “Huh?”

You nodded at the panda plushie. He looked back and forth between you and the plushie for a bit until he realized what you were implying.

“Well I can’t do it right now,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s gotta be when you least expect it.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “When I least expe—”

Bap!

Stunned, you blinked at Sebastian as the plushie fell to your lap. There was the leftover feeling of fuzz in your mouth. He immediately started to wheeze, one of his hands slapping over his eyes while he shook with laughter strong enough to mildly shake the couch. In hindsight, you should have expected that.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s the second time so far. I need to keep a tally,” he cackled, breathless and delighted. Well, at least he wasn’t in his prior funk anymore. That was all you could ask for, really.

“Some things never change, huh?” you said dryly. You picked up the plushie and tossed it at him. He chortled some more when it harmlessly bounced off his shoulder.

Letting out a gentle sigh, you glanced over to the television to see the movie was almost at its end. Fatigue from the day’s events was starting to press against your eyes. Ahh, you should brush your teeth and shower. Standing up, you stretched out your arms over your head. The muscles in your shoulders and back moved with the motion, your shirt riding up ever so slightly. You tugged it down and turned to look at Sebastian, his teal eyes already trained on your form—faint smile still lingering on his face from his previous laughter.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” you told him and grabbed the remote to toss in his direction. “You can put something else on if you want.”

“Aw, already?” He pouted, not bothering to pick up the remote just yet. “It’s not that late.”

You snorted. “It’s not, but I have to get up early tomorrow. Again. Y’know, like people with jobs tend to do.”

“Right, right, my bad. How could I forget?” Sarcasm oozed from his words. “Well, don’t let me hold you up.” He made a shoo-ing motion with one of his hands.

You snorted again and turned on your heel to head over to your bedroom. And once you were inside, you paused once you grabbed your towel from its place behind your door. Usually, you would change your clothes in your room after showering, but… Did you really want to walk around in only your towel right now? You glanced out the door at Sebastian—who looked like he was painstakingly trying to browse other movie options using the tiny remote. You looked back down at your towel, squeezing the soft material.

…This was stupid. You were overthinking the smallest things, it seemed. You pinched at the bridge of your nose. And after standing there feeling like your innards were knotting themselves together over and over, you forced yourself to gather up your necessary nightwear. Then, you made your way to your bathroom for the quickest shower and redress of your life.

As you went to brush your teeth, you noticed another toothbrush sitting in the cup you used to hold your own. The bristles were, well, not destroyed exactly, but they stuck out all over the place instead of in their neat lines. A peek into the tiny trash can you kept in the bathroom revealed the remains of a toothbrush snapped in half—the bristles on that one utterly destroyed. Your bottle of mouthwash was also significantly emptier than it had been this morning. You had to suppress a smile. Mentally, you added more to your list of groceries, as well as a better toothbrush for Sebastian to use.

Upon exiting the bathroom, your towel slung over your shoulder and dirty clothes in hand, your eyes landed on Sebastian. With his lure still off, the light from the television painted the living room in shades of navy and purple. He wasn’t paying attention to the movie he’d put on, still running his thumbs repeatedly over that plushie. You cleared your throat, and his head snapped towards you.

“Well,” you said lightly as you walked over to your room, “I’m heading to bed. Ni—”

“Wait—!” he cut across you, his eyes widening as he lurched slightly in your direction. One of his arms raised halfheartedly. One beat. Two beats. And then he hesitated, lowering his arm as he slouched down into the couch. He sighed—quiet, weary—and turned back around so he could stare absently at his box of things once more. “...Never mind.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You lingered outside your bedroom for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything else. But when he didn’t, you gave him one more look, your lips pressing together.

“Good night,” you whispered, one of your hands resting on the edge of the door frame.

“G’night,” he murmured back. He didn’t look at you. This felt infinitely worse than last night.

When you finally slipped into your room for the night—heart weighed by something you could not define—you made sure to leave the door slightly ajar.

The following morning passed similarly to the previous one, with you shuffling out of your bedroom to find Sebastian already awake. He gave you a sleepy “Morning,” and took to watching you sleepily as you scurried around getting ready for work.

“I’ll probably be back a little later than usual,” you told him hastily as you tugged on your shoes and slung your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up if you get hungry.”

“Mmmkay.” He gave you a lazy wave from his coiled lounging in front of the couch. The pillow you’d given him was pressed to his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around it. “Have a good day.” You offered him a quick smile, lingering for only the most minuscule of moments before you slipped out the door.

You were hoping for an easy shift at work, especially with all the shopping you’d need to do afterwards, but it was not kind to you. Fatigue weighed heavily upon your shoulders as you left the clinic. There was an itch behind your eyes that you knew would only worsen over time. You huffed and buckled yourself into your car. The quicker you could get this done, the better.

You’d intended to visit your regular grocery store, but upon deliberating it while driving down one of the main roads, you decided to go to your town’s warehouse store. Buying items in bulk would probably be better for you and Sebastian. And your wallet.

With one hand holding onto your phone and the other pushing around a cart, you went hunting for all the things you’d need. Plus some more items that your eyes caught onto and you figured wouldn’t hurt to bring home. A giant box of granola bars, for one. A couple rotisserie chickens. A container of honey crisp apples. Honestly, you could probably buy anything and he would be happy with it. He never was much of a picky eater.

You spent some time in the cleaning supplies aisle, looking at various brushes used to scrub sinks or pans. You picked one up, weighing it in your hand and peering at the thick bristles attached to the rectangular head. A traditional toothbrush was clearly out of the question. This would have to do for him. You’d probably need way more tubes of toothpaste as well.

At one point, you passed by a clothing aisle and took a moment to stare at various shirts and sweaters. You picked out a particularly large, black shirt and tried to imagine if it could fit over Sebastian’s long torso. Probably not, especially with his extra arm. You frowned as you hung it back up. You might have to look online for larger sizes. It was something to discuss with him later.

After making your way through the store, ensuring you got everything on your list, you headed towards self-checkout. And as you scanned each item and placed it on the large scale attached to the monitor, you were hit with just how much you bought. It was… a lot. Almost triple the amount of groceries you typically got biweekly. You nervously eyed the receipt once it was printed, then decided you shouldn’t worry too much about it. You had your savings, and if anything, you could always pick up extra shifts at the clinic.

Once everything was packed away neatly into the trunk and backseat of your car, you drove back to your cottage. By now it was dark outside, the roads lit up by street lamps that glowed with sleepy cream-colored light. There was the smallest scattering of stars overhead, most of the sky overtaken by cool gray clouds passing lazily by.

Eventually, you pulled into your driveway and killed the engine. Grabbing some of the items you could carry from the backseat with one hand, you rummaged around in your bag for your keys and made your way over to the door.

“I’m home!” you called out once you opened it, letting the dim moonlight seep into the darkness of your living room. As you dropped your work bag onto the floor and gently set down the items in your hand next to it, a golden light flickered on.

“Welcome back,” Sebastian greeted smoothly. A quick glance upwards showed him steadily making his way over from the kitchen. “Was wondering when you’d return.”

“Admittedly, that took me longer than I’d expected,” you said with a sigh. You gestured down to the groceries on the floor. “Do me a favor and pack these into the kitchen? I’ll bring everything else in. Just shout if you don’t know where something goes.”

“Alrighty,” he agreed easily, and you turned on your heel to make your way back over to your car to bring in everything else. The quicker this was done, the quicker you’d be able to finally relax.

It didn’t take too long with the both of you working together, but it was a lot of groceries. Sebastian was able to carry quite a few items to the kitchen on his own—something that would have taken ages on your lonesome. It meant he had to move back and forth between the front door and kitchen, though, and you could see his tail curved all over your cottage. Over the couch, around the coffee table, looping about the kitchen. It really put into perspective just how long he was. And well, it was certainly something to ruminate on.

He didn’t seem to have any issues with putting things in their proper places, thankfully. It wasn’t like it was all too different from how you both organized things way back when. Bread in the fridge, fruits in the little basket on the counter, cereal on top of the refrigerator, potatoes in the cabinet under the sink. It was a major help to not have to pack everything up by yourself, you had to admit.

Finally, you grabbed the last few items from your car’s trunk. The large box of granola bars and a few other frozen boxed items that you stacked on top of it to make the trip easier. Holding it all precariously in one hand, you locked up your car and carefully made your way over to the front door.

“This is the last of it,” you said as you stepped into your cottage and used your foot to close the door behind you. It was difficult to see where you were going with all the boxes in the way. You toed off your shoes and headed towards the kitchen. “Did you finish packing ev—”

Your foot caught on something.

You let out a yelp, lurching forward as you lost balance. The topmost boxes slipped down to the floor, landing with nearly consecutive thuds. Your heart leapt in your chest, but before you could really brace yourself for impact, something snatched you by the back of your jacket and tugged you slightly into the air.

“Shit! Watch where you’re going!” Sebastian chastised you as you dangled above the floor for a bit before being set gently down. You blinked rapidly, still not quite processing what had happened. “Coulda busted your head right open.”

“Sorry,” you said automatically, then glanced down to see you’d tripped right over a part of his tail—that was already shifting out of your way to make your path to the kitchen clear. You swallowed. “I— Sorry.”

“Jeez,” he grumbled, bending down to swipe up the boxes you’d dropped. “And to answer your question: Yes, I did finish. Though I dunno where you want this to go.”

With his third arm he brandished the sink brush at you, already having removed it from its plastic container. You blinked at it once, then gave yourself a mental kick to the behind to snap yourself out of it. Focus. Here and now.

“Ah. That’s your new toothbrush,” you told him as you forced yourself to continue on to the kitchen.

There was a tiny pause. “You’re joking,” he said incredulously as he followed behind you—the low shifting sound of his body your only indication.

“Nope. You’re welcome.”

“You expect me to brush my teeth with this?”

“Ordinary toothbrushes weren’t gonna cut it for you,” you told him amusedly as you slipped the box of granola bars atop the refrigerator and opened the freezer. You gestured at him to hand you the boxes he was holding and he complied, though he was still frowning at you like you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world. You rolled your eyes. “It’s better than nothing.”

“That’s what you said about the regular toothbrushes,” he said in exasperation, then sighed. “I should have expected this,” he muttered to himself, eyeing the brush some more as he rotated it about in his hands.

You closed the freezer door and turned to look up at him. “Did you put away the toothpaste and mouthwash, too?”

He jabbed a finger over to the bathroom, still scrutinizing the brush. “I put them on the counter.”

“Okay, I’ll put them away. Give me your toothbrush, I’ll put it in the cabinet.” You extended your hand, waiting for him to stop being so dramatic. He ran a hand down his face and huffed, but eventually dropped the brush onto your palm. You had to suppress a smile. Looked like you won.

You made your way to the bathroom and exactly what you’d said you’d do. Sebastian’s brush went into the cabinet behind the mirror. The extra toothbrush sitting in your cup—with its destroyed bristles—went into the garbage can. The mouthwash and extra toothpaste were both tucked neatly away into the cabinet under the sink. You washed your hands and rolled your shoulders with a silent sigh.

After exiting the bathroom, you tossed your jacket into your room and wandered back to the kitchen. That same fatigue from earlier was starting to make a reappearance. It laid heavy hands along your shoulders and the back of your neck. You chewed at the inside of your lip as you glanced at Sebastian—who was sweeping his own gaze across the kitchen—then at the clock on your stove.

“I am way too tired and it is way too late to make something,” you admitted as you rubbed your hand over your abdomen when your stomach gave a little rumble. “Did you eat the rest of the leftovers?”

“For lunch, yeah,” he replied as he flicked his head to the dish rack. The associated containers and utensils sat there drying.

You hummed and slipped carefully around his tail to reopen the refrigerator. Might as well use some of the things you bought today. “How do you feel about cereal for dinner?”

“Don’t care, either way.” He shrugged and glanced up at the top of the refrigerator, where the boxes of cereal stood. “I saw those Reese’s Puffs you bought today. Feels almost targeted, honestly.” He sniffed.

You grinned as you walked over to the cabinets. “That’s because it was.”

After you grabbed a bowl and spoon for yourself, you turned around to compare it to Sebastian’s hand size while he moved one of the kitchen table’s chairs to the side again. There was no way he’d be able to comfortably use such tiny things. The bowl alone was more like a cup for him. You rubbed your chin and bent down to grab a basin and a pot spoon, the metal of each reflecting the light coming from Sebastian’s lure. This would have to do.

You set everything down on the table, then grabbed the Reese’s Puffs, your own preferred cereal, and a gallon of milk—juggling them all in your hold carefully until you could drop them on the table. Sebastian snorted when he saw the basin and pot spoon, but didn’t say anything else. You sat down with a sigh, suddenly acutely aware of your own aching feet and pressing itch to your eyes.

And so there you both were again. Sitting across from each other in your little kitchen.

Still strange. Still unfamiliar.

You wondered when you would grow accustomed to it all.

Sebastian cleared his throat as he reached for the Reese’s Puffs to begin pouring it into his bowl. “So! How was your day?”

You shrugged at him, copying his actions with your own cereal. “Tiring, I suppose. How was yours?”

“Boring when you’re not here,” he said immediately. He poured milk into his bowl, then gestured at your own so he could fill yours as well. You pushed it closer to him and watched the stream of milk as it splashed against your cereal. “But this isn’t about me. This is about you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It is?”

He nodded and recapped the milk jug. “I told you all about me,” he said simply, “now I want you to tell me all about you. What have you been up to all this time?”

There was a warmth settling itself in your stomach—like you’d just swallowed a spoonful of hot soup. You tried not to let it affect you so much. “I’m… not sure if there’s really much to say,” you said, a small frown splayed on your lips as you picked up your spoon.

Sebastian flapped a hand at you. “Pssht, bullshit! There’s always a tale to tell. Come on, don’t hold out on me.” He grinned at you suddenly, sharp. “Unless you’ve got something to hide?”

You gave him a look. “Right,” you said flatly, “like my secret job I do after working all day at the clinic.”

He snapped his fingers. “Now we’re talking!”

You snorted, then hummed thoughtfully as you swirled your spoon through your bowl. “Honestly, there really isn’t much to say,” you told him quietly, thinking back to the years and years of grief and solitude. “I work. I come home. I read or watch T.V. or play shitty songs on my ukulele.” You chuckled. “Occasionally I text some friends still living in the city. Or call your siblings or mom. Maybe I hang out with coworkers very seldomly. But mostly I just…” you trailed off, thinking about the evenings spent lost in thought at the dock or within the cove. Thinking about him, mostly. Mourning him. You shrugged. “I dunno. Daydream, I guess.”

The gaze he pierced you with made you feel like you were being picked apart and analyzed, piece by piece. “Hmm, I see.” You were certain he knew you were not telling him everything.

Well, you thought to yourself wryly, that makes two of us.

It was okay, though. There were some things that were just better off left unsaid.

“How about any work stories?” he asked after shoveling his spoon into his mouth to crunch noisily down on his cereal. “You said you work at a clinic, right? You gotta have something from your time there.”

You mulled it over in your head. “Well, there was this one time…”

For the rest of dinner, you recounted what tales you could remember from your job. Dramatic coworkers, strict bosses, strange patient interactions. You didn’t think some of them were all too interesting—maybe just a way for you to rant or express your incredulity at dealing with people—but Sebastian listened raptly either way, his ear fins flicking every so often. He offered his own little sardonic quips from time to time (“No way,” he drawled when you told him a patient stopped taking all their medications then was surprised when they felt awful afterwards), and it made you realize later on just how… normal things were between you both. Right then and there.

Sitting at a too little table, in a too little kitchen. You and him, like it had always been before everything happened.

It made you crave more. Sunk its talons into your body and filled you up with a want want want.

Addicting.

You watched Sebastian scrape up the last of his second helping of cereal onto his spoon, sleepily blinking at him in the quiet, comfortable aftermath of your last story. Your gaze caught onto the long sleeves of his jacket, then traced upwards to the scarf still wrapped loosely around his neck. Faintly, you recalled wandering past the clothes section at the warehouse store you went to earlier. Right.

“What size are you?” you found yourself asking, eyeing up his jacket and trying to estimate how long it was.

Sebastian let out an offended gasp, dropping his spoon into his bowl while his third hand raised up to his chest in shock. “Why I never! Babe, you can’t just ask someone that!”

You snorted. “I was talking about your clothes and you know it. So?”

“Why are you asking?” he asked warily, shooting you a narrow-eyed look.

“I was thinking we should order you some new things to wear,” you told him and leaned back into your chair. “You’ve gotta be tired of wearing the same fit every day, right?”

He shrugged, his head flicking to the side slightly like he was staring out at something other than you. “I got used to it.”

Your gaze softened. “Well, I think you deserve at least a new shirt. Maybe a sweater.” Then, to lighten the atmosphere and give him an easy out, you said, “Besides, what if I’m tired of seeing you in the same clothes, huh? What if I wanted to see you in something nicer? Ever think about that?”

Sebastian looked back at you, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he processed your words. His lips tensed together when you only smiled knowingly at him, and his cheeks darkened minutely. He opened his mouth, paused, then after appearing to consider what to do next, his lips twisted into a feigned grimace. The edges of his lips twitched. You had to hold back a laugh.

“Eugh, are you flirting with me?” he asked, one of his hands reaching up to tuck his hair vainly over his ear fin. His face scrunched up like he was wrinkling his nonexistent nose, though his lure got a smidge brighter. “You should know, I’m a married man.” He wiggled his third arm’s fingers at you, his ring glinting in the light from his lure.

You rolled your eyes. You did that a lot with him, you noticed. You opened your mouth to respond, then found yourself darting your gaze past his torso when something blurry moved in your periphery.

Fake Sebastian leaned against the door of your refrigerator, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he smiled widely at you. Uncanny, almost. His eyes crinkled into crescents that still seemed to pierce right through your body like an arrow. A reminder. And for one short, inconsequential moment, you froze.

(Teal eyes. Fingers like knives. Body covered in scales. Pungent smell of fish.)

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You forced yourself to look back at actual Sebastian, who watched you with slightly furrowed brows. Appraising you, almost. Evaluating. You smiled at him, willing your stomach to stop twisting itself into heavy knots. You were working on it. “So? Size?”

If he found your lack of a retort suspicious, he did not make it known. Instead, he sighed and leaned back away from you. When had he gotten closer?

He picked at the material of his jacket sleeve. “I dunno. This shit was all custom made probably.” He moved his third arm around, bringing your attention to the sleeves it had both from his jacket and undershirt.

You frowned, tapping your finger against your chin. “Guess we’ll have to take some measurements. Gimme a sec.” You stood up, your chair making a little scraping sound as you pushed it back and beelined for your bedroom.

Rummaging around in your closet, you let out a little “aha!” when your fingers found purchase on the cool metal of a small measuring tape. You pulled it out and scurried back over to Sebastian, your fingers already pulling at the little metal tab at the end to stretch out the flimsy tape.

“Okay,” you said as you stood next to your chair and pulled the tape out until it was a few feet long. “This shouldn’t take too long. Let’s—”

But you found yourself hesitating as you looked up at him.

You’d… fully intended on helping him measure his waist, chest, and torso length but… As you peered at his face with his glowing eyes trained on your hands, you were suddenly struck with the startling memory of his snarl—snapping at you as he lurched backwards from your touch. The sinking pit in your stomach it caused, and the way he turned away from you like he just could not bring himself to look at you.

“Not yet,” he’d said, strangling out the words like they were suffocating him. “Not yet.”

Your grip tightened on the measuring tape. He continued to watch you, his mouth deepening into a frown when you didn’t say anything else. It shook you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat and abruptly loosened your hold on the tool.

Not yet, you told yourself. Time, you just needed time.

For him and for you.

“Actually,” you said in as thoughtful a manner as you could, hoping against all that your expression was schooled into something similar. You let the tape retract into the metal body of its container and set it on the table to slide it over to him. “Take your measurements. I’m gonna clear the table and grab my laptop in the meantime.”

When you grabbed at your bowl and his own larger basin, it looked—for one, terse moment—like he wanted to say something. It was in the way his gaze seemed to dart down to the tape, then back up at you. The way his jaw tensed, then relaxed just as quick.

He sighed, long and quiet.

“I don’t think you’re gonna find anything that fits… this,” he grumbled as he picked up the tiny measuring tape with thick, careful fingers. One errant flex of his hand and he could crush it rather easily. It was as unnerving as it was captivating.

You made a noncommittal sound as you placed the dishes into the sink and grabbed the sponge to scrub them down with soap. “Eh, who knows. There might be sizes large enough on certain websites. And if anything, we can probably custom order something for you.”

He only grumbled something indecipherable, the sound of the measuring tape being stretched out filling the air. You busied yourself with rinsing the dishes, quietly ruminating on the strange proportions of Sebastian’s body.

His torso was quite long—almost as long as your entire body, honestly. Any shirt you got him might be… a bit short on him, but that was fine. Your one concern was how lithe he was, in addition to his length. It might cause him to get utterly swamped in whatever you would purchase. Not to mention you’d most certainly have to cut a hole in the material to allow his third arm freedom. You’d probably also have to buy shirts made of stretchable material, particularly so he could get his big head through the neck hole in the first place.

Ahh, this was more complicated than you’d originally thought.

It was fine, though. Anything to make him more comfortable.

Drying your hands off on a nearby towel, you glanced over to see Sebastian still measuring his chest’s circumference—his eyes squinted in focus as he carefully pinched the tape around his body. You let him be so you could scavenge around for your laptop. You couldn’t remember where you last left it.

Once you found it—tucked underneath the couch, of all places—you went back to the kitchen to plop yourself back down in your chair at the table. The measuring tape was already set on its surface, and Sebastian watched you silently with his arms crossed over his chest as you powered on your laptop. You placed it in the middle of the table, so that you both could see its screen properly.

“Alright,” you said once it booted up and you opened the notepad application, “what’s the verdict, chief?”

He told you his measurements, and you typed them up for reference. Then, the search began. It wasn’t all that hard to find a website that sold clothes for individuals on the taller side, honestly. What sucked was finding one that had a size chart that matched his own measurements well enough. Either his chest measurement was way too small, or his torso length was too long—it was just as you’d predicted. You’d have to compromise.

Sebastian was… well… quiet, as he watched you scroll through numerous sites. Not melancholy, really, but… resigned, almost. Maybe even tense. You weren’t sure how to define it. His gaze just seemed distant whenever you glanced up at him to get a read on what he was thinking. It was not an expression you wanted to see on him—that you liked seeing on him. You cleared your throat.

“I hear baggy, almost-crop tops are the new look,” you joked as you gestured to the size chart on one website that seemed like the best option out of the others. “What do you think?”

“Hmm?” He blinked as he seemed to come back to himself and glanced briefly down at you. With your expectant gaze on him, his own darted to your laptop and he focused in on it with a squint. “Oh yeah, they’re right up there with skinny jeans and fedoras.”

You huffed out a laugh. “It’s the best we’ve got that’ll kinda fit you. We can buy a couple to test them out. I can return them if anything.”

“Whatever you say,” he said vaguely. It made your lips twitch slightly into a frown.

“Are you… okay?” you hesitantly asked him, turning your body in your seat so you could face him properly. You hadn’t noticed until now but his lure had dimmed. Not too much to be stark, but enough that you glanced briefly up to it in concern. “It’s just… you seem out of it.”

He didn’t reply. He only stared down at you. A quiet permeated the air, broken only by your soft breaths. The hum of your laptop’s fans. His mouth opened slightly, just enough for you to hear the small inhale he took. Then— he seemed to snap back to himself, his body going from stock still to sudden motion.

“Just peachy~” he crooned, his eyes crinkling into upturned crescents as he shifted closer to your side of the table. “What options do they have? I’d kill for a turtle neck.” He peered at your laptop with a curious hum, lowering himself down so he’d have a better view. One of his hands braced gently along the edge of the table.

This close—mere inches of space between you and him as he hovered just over your shoulder—you could smell that poignant, fishy odor. Stronger than it had ever been before. That sank itself into your senses and reminded you of just what you were dealing with.

Inhuman inhuman inhuman inhuman.

Your breath got caught in your lungs for a second before you forced yourself to breathe normally. You willed yourself to focus on something else, anything else. Anything other than the blatant lack of cinnamon or gentle musk you were accustomed to. Had been accustomed to.

Deep breath in.

Faintly—your brain inadvertently registered—beyond that piscine scent, was the smell of your detergent. The gentle, clear scent was so different that it was almost jarring. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, latching onto the sleeve of his jacket. It looked… clean. Soft.

Not the point, focus!

Deep breath out.

“Here, see for yourself,” you said as casually as you could as you shifted your laptop better towards him. He was deflecting, but so were you. It was as clear as a sunny sky after days of rain. There was nothing you could do about it. Or rather, nothing you wanted to do about it at this time.

Eventually, though, you would have to.

But not yet.

“I can’t—” Sebastian cut himself off with a clear of his throat. You craned your head to the side to look properly at him, the way he purposely stared at your tiny laptop and not at you. “I can’t use a touchpad, I fear. My hands are, ah, too cold. And hard.”

“Oh,” was your response, dropping from your mouth like a rock. You… hadn’t even considered that, actually. You frowned and looked at the tiny arrow keys. His fingers were too big to even properly use those, as well. It didn’t help to eradicate the coolness that was starting to spread throughout your body. You pulled your laptop a smidge closer towards you. “That’s okay. We’ll look together.” It was the only reassurance you could think of to say.

You thought he’d be pickier with what shirts he wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind the ones you pointed out. There was still that… aloofness to his voice, but he seemed to get better when you found some AC/DC and KISS shirts to add to the cart. You didn’t want to buy too much in case they ended up not fitting him at all. In any case, it was a good start.

You also ended up looking around for a website that did custom sizes after ordering from the first one. You did find one—a tailor that said they would use the customer’s measurements to adjust the clothes they had to fit their size—but you were unsure how it would work with someone like Sebastian. In any case, the two of you agreed to test it out with one of the displayed flannels on the tailor’s website, hoping no one would say anything as you punched in Sebastian’s frankly eyebrow-raising measurements and submitted the order. Maybe it would be chalked up as someone wanting a robe, or something.

When that was all said and done, you leaned back in your chair while your laptop powered off and scrubbed at your face. You were tired. You could feel it in the heaviness of your eyelids and shoulders. You were so ready to hit the—

“So!” Sebastian clasped his hands together and slithered away from you to give you some space to stretch your arms. He looked at you expectantly. “Movie?”

Ahhh. How could you say no to him after all that?

You suppressed a tired sigh. At least you didn’t have work tomorrow. “Go pick something. I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

“Yippee!” He gave you a thumbs up and snaked his way into the living room. You took a moment to rub at your eyes, then scooped up your laptop to head to your bedroom for your nightly routine.

Once your teeth were brushed and your nightwear was slipped on, you trudged over to the couch and flopped down next to Sebastian. Not too close, not too far—just like yesterday. Your eyes caught onto the box of his things, still sitting innocuously on your coffee table. Its flaps were sealed shut. You didn’t linger on it.

Sebastian already had a movie queued up on the television, and as soon as you gave him the go ahead, he carefully pressed play on the remote with the tip of his finger.

“What movie is this?” you asked as you let yourself slump into the cushions. Your legs stretched out in front of you, your heels resting on the carpet you had on the floor.

“Pacific Rim,” he replied, reaching up to tug his lure off. “I remember wanting to watch it in theaters, but then… Well.” His voice lowered into a grumble. “Never got the chance.”

You hummed. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

He let out an “mmhm” in agreement.

You didn’t even make it past the introduction.

You could already feel yourself nodding off even as an action scene played out on the screen. The darkness of the living room paired with the comfort of your relaxed body was a deadly combination. You vaguely registered movement somewhere behind your head and shoulders, but you were too far gone to really process what it was.

There was a cool sensation on your cheek that prevented your head from slipping to the side any further.

And when you woke up, hours later in the middle of the night, you found yourself tucked neatly into bed. Blanket wrapped comfortably around your body and gentle moonlight drifting its ghostly hand across your sheets. You blinked hazily up at your ceiling, then looked over at your open bedroom door.

The quiet drone of the television just outside followed you back into your dreams.

part four

#sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #who i see au #I CANT WAIT TO KISS THAT FISH

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starlitiris · 12 days ago

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Starlit’s Masterlist ~🌟

It’s a little small at the moment (in my opinion at least), but that’s because I haven’t been posting my works for very long. If you find something in here that interests you, then enjoy!

Key:

Romantic = 🌹

Platonic = 🌻

Thriller/Horror = 🔪

Headcanons = 🪐

Oneshots = 💫

Multi-Chapter = ✨

Hunter x Hunter:

- “how i imagine some hxh characters would react to their s/o having sa trauma”

[🌹🪐 - y/n x ging, uvogin, feitan, illumi, chrollo]

Link

- “making the phantom troupe neurodivergent”

[🪐 - nobunaga, feitan, machi, phinks, shalnark, shizuku, pakunoda, uvogin, chrollo]

Link

- “The Feeling” (2/2 Chapters - Finished)

[🔪✨ - y/n, feitan]

Part 1

Part 2

- “How the Phantom Troupe would respond to your kids asking where babies come from”

[🌹🪐 - y/n x chrollo, nobunaga, feitan, machi, hisoka, phinks, shalnark, franklin, shizuku, pakunoda, uvogin]

Link

Pressure (Roblox):

- “To Lick Your Wounds”

[🌹💫 - y/n x sebastian]

Link

- “Once Upon a Dream”

[🌹💫 - sebastian x y/n x p.ai.nter]

Link

- “Consequences”

[🔪💫 - y/n, sebastian]

Link

- “Imperfect Hatred”

[🌹💫 - y/n x sebastian]

Link

- “Lilacs” (2/2 Chapters - Finished)

[🌹✨ - y/n x p.ai.nter]

Part 1

Part 2

- “Where is the Justice?” (6/? Chapters - Ongoing)

[🌹✨ - y/n x sebastian]

Chapter 1: Injustice

Chapter 2: Reminiscence

Chapter 3: Clair De Lune

Chapter 4: It’s Raining Somewhere Else

Chapter 5: Lab Rat

Chapter 6: Blueberry

Chapter 7: Memento Mori

- Sebastian x Reader x Painter Polyamorous Relationship Headacanons

[🌹🪐✨ - sebastian x y/n x painter]

Part 1: How it started

Part 2: Living Arrangements, Sleeping Arrangements, Love Languages, Jealousy

#hxh headcanons #pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x reader #p.ai.nter x reader #phantom troupe x reader

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starlitiris · 12 days ago

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“Where is the Justice?”

Chapter 6: Blueberry

Summary: “I haven’t given you guys enough one-on-one time with Sebastian, so here. As a treat. Enjoy your jail visit.”

Notes: I always listen to music when I write, so incase you’re wondering/want to listen along, this time I was listening to this playlist

~ ⚖️ ~

July 8th, 2013

Finally, you’re able to visit him again. It’s been weeks since you were last able to. You fidget anxiously as you follow the policeman to the visitation area, and to the booth that had your husband sitting behind a window of plexiglass.

You quickly sit down and pick up the phone on your side – Sebastian looks like he had already been holding his while he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Seb. How are you doing?” You ask him, worry present in your face and tone.

“Hey, baby. I’m fine,” he responds.

“Are you really?”

“Yeah. I’m…” he averts his gaze, trying to find a way to sugarcoat what he’s about to say without lying. “I’m getting by. What about you? Are you eating well? Are you and the babies having any issues?”

“I’m okay. Avoiding the press has been annoying, and I keep getting stared at once in a while when I’m in public… but I’m fine. I’m eating. The babies and I are okay,” you tell him, hoping he doesn’t focus on the bit about the press and the staring.

He focuses on the bit about the press and the staring. “Wait, the press? Have they been hounding you??”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it hounding. It’s fine, really.”

“And start taking Gavin with you when you go out. He’s young, but he’s a tall kid. He can scare people off.”

“Sebastian, it’s fine,” you repeat, not wanting him to get worked up.

“I’m serious, babe.”

“I’m serious, too. It’s okay.”

He stares at you, brows stubbornly furrowed.

“... Okay. I’ll start taking Gavin with me when I can,” you concede.

“Thank you,” he relaxes a little. The thought of people staring at and judging you because the world thinks you married a serial killer makes it difficult, though. At least he knows Gavin wouldn’t hesitate to clock a motherfucker if someone was trying to harass you.

“Mhm.”

A silence falls between you two. A somber, stale silence only filled with the background chatter of the people around you. The both of you switch between making sad eye contact, and averting your eyes while you try to think of what to say.

Eventually, you bite your quivering lip and press your hand against the glass separating you from your husband. He doesn’t hesitate to put his hand where yours is on the other side. It’s only been a little over a month since he was arrested, but it felt like you haven’t touched him in years. You hate that all you can do is imagine that you can feel his warm, calloused hand against yours.

“We’ll get through this. We know I didn’t do anything, and we’ll be able to prove it,” Sebastian starts, seeing the way you’re staring at his hand. “And when it’s all over, and I’m proven innocent, everything will go back to normal. We can go home, and I’ll make you dinner. We can huddle up in blankets on the couch, and I’ll hold you while we watch some of those stupid movies you like. And we’ll start our family,” he caresses the glass with his thumb, hoping the intention will be enough to comfort you. “Everything will be okay.”

“God, I hope so…” you sniffle, fighting back tears once again. Between your hormones being all over the place and your husband being wrongly accused murder, it’s been really difficult not to cry all the time. You don’t want Sebastian to have to see you cry again.

“Your mom has been freaking out since you were arrested,” you start up again, trying to make conversation. “Rita and Gavin keep trying to keep her calm and distracted. A lot of her distractions have consisted of helping me out and buying me way too much baby clothes, but it keeps her busy.”

Sebastian chuckles. “Well, at least now we don’t have to worry about our little rugrats running out of clothes.”

“Sure, but your mother will be in debt because of it,” you joke.

“What can I say? The woman likes to shop.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, and Rita has been going rampant trying to get you out of here. She’s looking into starting a fundraiser for your bail, looking for legal loopholes, starting a petition or something- she’s working her ass off to find you someway out of this.”

“Sounds like Rita,” Sebastian says knowingly. “How’s Gavin?”

“Not great, but… getting by. His grades started tanking again, but I’ve been helping him with his homework when I can to keep him going.”

“That’s good. Thank you for helping him, babe.”

“You don’t need to thank me for doing the bare minimum,” you tell him.

“Mm…” he trails off, giving you that soft-eyed, goofy-smiled, longing stare that he gives you whenever you do something that he deems to be amazing. It’s never over something that you believe warrants praise. One time he looked at you this way for simply loading the dishwasher even though it was his turn to do it, just because you knew he was extra tired that day. It took you like three minutes. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

You fail to fight back a grin and roll your eyes at him. “I know.”

He chuckles. “You’re cute.”

“You’re a dork.”

“A charming dork.”

“An annoying dork.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

Now it was your turn to stare lovingly. You hated to admit it, but he was, in fact, a charming dork. But he was your charming dork, and you couldn’t be happier that he was. It wasn’t long, though, before the moment turned sour and you began to frown.

“I’m scared,” you said.

“Don’t be.”

“Do you really think you can get proven innocent..?” You know he clearly is innocent, but a part of you wonders… if he can get arrested because the police are convinced he did it, who’s to say a jury won’t be? They must have something to hold him on, otherwise he wouldn’t be sat in front of you wearing an ugly orange jumpsuit.

“Yes, I do. They have nothing on me,” he states, very matter-of-factly. “No DNA, no motive. I’d never even met any of those people that died! I mean, how the hell are they gonna build a case on me? I’ll be fine. I’ll get out of here.”

“But what if you don’t?” You couldn’t help but ask. The anxiety over that being a possibility was too overwhelming.

“I will.”

“But what if you don’t?” You emphasize, demanding a proper answer.

“Then…” he thinks. He doesn’t want to think about that possibility, but he will for you. Because he doesn’t want the love of his life to be afraid. “Then you’ll be okay. And I’ll…try to get used to prison life, I guess. You’ll visit me whenever you can, and I’ll be here. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to do this alone.”

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be here, and you have mama, Rita, and Gavin to help you whenever you need it. You’ll be okay, baby,” Sebastian leans in closer to you. “We’ll be okay.”

You notice that a tear managed to break free. You wipe it away. “Okay,” you nod.

Sebastian lets out a heavy sigh and sits with you while you try to recollect yourself.

“You know,” you start again with a sniffle. “Once you get out, we should go back to that fancy bakery near the comic store. We deserve to treat ourselves after everything we’re going through.”

“Great idea. We definitely deserve it,” Sebastian agrees, a grin starting to take form on his lips.

“We can buy you a box of those blueberry muffins you wouldn’t shut up about last time we went,” you tease, attempting to lighten the mood.

“God, those muffins are the best thing I’ve ever eaten, I swear.”

“Wowww. I’m telling your mom you said that,” you say, pretending to be very disappointed.

“Pff, don’t!” He exclaims. “Getting out of jail won’t be worth it if she’s just gonna kill me next time she sees me.”

You both laugh. Wholesome, genuine laughter. It feels good to laugh with him. It cheers you up. Makes you feel like there may be hope for you two after all. You’re good people. You deserve a happy ending.

When your laughter dies down, you speak up again. “Just keep thinking about those blueberry muffins, Sebastian. Once we get you out of here, they’re all yours.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, I hope you know,” he smirks.

“Go ahead. You’ll get your stupid muffins, and I’ll get my stupid movies.”

“But the muffins come first, right?”

You giggle. “Sure. Muffins first. It’s the first place we’ll go when you’re released.”

~ ⚖️ ~

Ao3

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x y/n #pressure x reader #whereisthejusticefic

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starlitiris · 13 days ago

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“Where is the Justice?”

Chapter 5: Lab Rat

Summary: “Sebastian and Malachi are having lunch together, just as they have been everyday for the past few months. I’d like to say that nothing is new, but that would be a lie. It’s the calm before the storm.”

Notes are at the end

~ ⚖️ ~

January 29th, 2014

“Looking a little blue around the gills, Sebastian!” Malachi sat across from Sebastian at the table, setting his lunch tray down without much care. He grinned, finding himself very funny.

“Dude. Not cool,” Sebastian glared.

“Well, it’s true,” Malachi picks up his fruit cup to open it. “You do have gills, and they are blue,” he points out.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and goes back to picking at his meatloaf – if he could even call it that. The food here wasn’t much better than what he was given in surface-prison.

Sebastian wasn’t too jazzed about having gills visible on his neck for everyone to see. He wasn’t too jazzed about them being there period. It hurt and itched to grow them in, and the soreness and itching hadn’t stopped yet. It was distracting and unpleasant, not to mention the skin around his gills was starting to turn a blueish-gray. It looked gross to him. And everyone can see it. At least his jumpsuit was hiding the gills that had formed on his sides. Those ones looked even more disgusting, in Sebastian’s humble opinion.

“You’re an ass,” Sebastian remarked.

“Nahh, you love me!” Malachi said teasingly before shoveling a spoonful of diced fruits into his mouth. He didn’t finish chewing before he spoke again. “So, any updates? What’s the deal with, uh… whatever’s going on with you?”

“No idea. They said the skin changing color is a side effect they’re going to have to rule out. They also said that my skin changing color seems to be the only side effect presenting itself so far, but if anything else starts to change, then they might put me on 24 hour watch to monitor the changes. Also to make sure I don’t die or melt into a puddle of goo, too, probably.”

“Damn. Hopefully turning you into a smurf is the only side effect,” the blond added, this time without a mouth full of food.

“Okay, first off, fuck you. Don’t call me a smurf. And second… yeah, me too. But knowing how my luck has been lately, it probably won’t be the only side effect I have to deal with,” he concluded pessimistically, finally beginning to eat the slop on his tray.

“Hey, you never know! Your luck might start to turn around soon,” Malachi offered a hopeful grin.

“Easy for you to say,” Sebastian retorts. “I got sentenced to death for something I had nothing to do with right after finding out my partner was pregnant, got brought down here 32 minutes before I was supposed to be killed, wasn’t even here for a month before being randomly selected for a human experiment meant to disfigure me, and now I have gross gray gills on my body and everything is sore and itchy.”

“... Mm. Well,” Malachi starts, “at least you’re alive.”

Sebastian looks up from his food to see his friend’s sympathetic smile.

“And you have me!” The blond shrugged. “That’s somethin’ right? I think it helps to have a friend when everything sucks. No matter what happens to you because of this experiment thing, I’ll always be right beside you, man.”

Sebastian says nothing.

“I mean, I know I annoy the shit out of you sometimes, but I just like to have fun. And I care, y’know? I try to be a good friend to you when it counts,” he sets his empty fruit cup to the side and continues. “I know you lost a lot and feel like you have nothing left, but you have me. And you always will.”

Sebastian stares at his friend thoughtfully for a moment, then sighs. “I don’t know how you stay so optimistic when you lost everything, too, and got stuck in this shithole.”

“Blame my sister. She’s the one that taught me to make the best out of anything. And besides, I didn’t lose everything. I still have myself! And that’s something that nobody can take away from me. Plus, I have you now!” Malachi playfully kicks one of his friend’s feet under the table. “You and I are in this together from now on. So don’t go dyin’ on me in some containment cell, okay?”

“Tsk. Yeah, whatever,” Sebastian can’t help but smile a little. Malachi’s good mood was obnoxiously contagious.

He really isn’t sure how Malachi does it. Half the time, he seems to be off in his own little world where everything is sunshine and rainbows. As if they aren’t doing slave labor at the bottom of the ocean as punishment for crimes they either didn’t commit, or didn’t know they were committing. As if the other prisoners around them weren’t dropping like flies because of whatever this organization was making them do. But Malachi proves time and time again that he isn’t oblivious to any of that. He understood the gravity of the situation they were in. It was unfair, and their lives were at risk everyday. It sucks, and Malachi knew it. But he wouldn’t let this place, or anyone break his spirit. He wouldn’t let anyone break him. Sebastian admired that.

Having Malachi around keeps him afloat. Sebastian is still grouchy and miserable all of the time – it’s hard not to be when he’s still trying to process how much he’s lost and been through in the past months – but Malachi helps him push through. He helps Sebastian think sometimes, even if just for a brief moment, that maybe things will be okay.

And all Sebastian does is bitch and moan about how terrible life is. He knows he can’t really be blamed considering everything he’s been through, but he must be a real drag to be around, huh? He feels like he owes a lot to Malachi. He supposes… trying to be a little more positive is the least he can do.

“... My birthday is soon,” Sebastian mumbles.

Malachi perks up at this exciting piece of new information. “No shit, really? When is it?”

“February 3rd. I turn 21.”

“Oh, nice! I know there’s not a whole lot we can do about it, but I’ll try to think of something! Maybe I’ll just give you whatever you want from my lunch tray as a birthday gift,” he notes with a goofy smile.

Sebastian shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to do that. Keep your crappy lunch to yourself.”

“I gotta do something for you. It’s your birthday! And we both need a little more celebration in our lives, anyway.”

“Giving me your food is probably the only thing you can do, and I don’t wanna take your food from you. You need to eat.”

“You won’t be taking my food. You’ll be receiving my food. As a gift. Besides, it’ll only be for one day and I’m not giving you my entire lunch.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still. A simple ‘happy birthday’ will do.”

“Hmph,” Malachi crosses his arms and thinks. “Oh! You know what- maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll have those blueberry muffins you like as an option for breakfast again! If they do, I’ll give you mine and settle for a carton of milk or something.”

“... Alright. Fine. If they’re giving out the muffins again.”

Malachi grinned, happy to have made some sort of compromise. Sebastian shook his head again, but he was still smiling. He appreciates his friend wanting to do something nice for him on his birthday.

Enjoying his upcoming birthday would be difficult. He desperately wanted to spend it with you. With you, his mom, Rita, Gavin, and the twins which he was sure had been welcomed to the world by now. Thinking about the twins left a sharp pang in his heart, knowing he would never meet them. But, as per Malachi’s advice, he would try to remind himself that they were in good hands. And he would try his best to enjoy his birthday a little. For Malachi, for himself, and for you. He knows you would want him to try.

And, to a very small degree, he was able to. His luck did briefly turn around on the day of his birthday, and he was able to have two blueberry muffins for breakfast, courtesy of Malachi.

If only that luck had lasted, though. A few months later he would be struck with migraines and severe leg pains. He was rendered unable to work, claiming to be in too much pain and not having full function of his legs anymore. So, as planned by the scientists on his case, he would be taken away for testing and 24 supervision.

Malachi was worried, hoping his friend would be okay and wouldn’t be gone for long. It was a little alarming to watch him get carried away on a stretcher.

In the following weeks, Sebastian ended up being glad for once that you and the others thought he was dead. This way, none of you would have to know about what was happening to him in the months to come.

You wouldn’t have to find out about any of it. He truly believed it was better this way.

Death would’ve been more merciful than what he was about to go through.

~ ⚖️ ~

Ending Notes: At least he got his blueberry muffins

Sorry my chapters for this series tend to be so short </3 I might come back to this later and try to make it a little longer, but no promises. If I do end up doing that though, I’ll be sure to let you guys know in the notes on the next chapter!

Ao3

Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x y/n #pressure x reader #whereisthejusticefic

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starlitiris · 14 days ago

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I imagine he caught it on broken glass/metal or something like that while trying to evade gunfire or whatever during the lockdown

But i also saw someone headcanon that his third arm got burnt pretty bad and he just keeps bandaging it bc the skin is still sensitive and i really like that idea too

And!! Another favorite of mine is the headcanon that his third arm doesnt have much feeling in it so it gets hurt a lot without Sebastian immediately noticing

what r yalls theories for why sebastian’s third arm is wrapped in bandages lol

#starlit’s bullshit #i also like the tracker idea but i feel like if they put a tracker in him it would be somewhere else like the back of his neck or something #i also saw someone say once that theyre friend thinks seb tried to eat his arm 😭

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starlitiris · 17 days ago

Note

I love Lilacs so much!!! I am happy you liked my suggestions and turned it into brilliant fanfictions ♥️♥️♥️

pAInter deserves love too

And you even add alternative happy ending *gasp*

Star was feeling merciful to us readers🙏

YAYYY I’m glad you liked it!!! I was excited for you to read it since you inspired it!!

And yeah i lowkey felt bad for ending part 1 like that so i HAD to make part 2 to make up for it LMAO 😭 you guys and painter deserved a happy ending <33

#starlit’s bullshit

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starlitiris · 17 days ago

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You. Yes, you. You are one of the bests, if not the best writer <3 I just fell in love with your Pressure works. In my opinion, you've come the closest to writing characters' personalities to canon, that you believe that this could actually happen, just 11/10 :> (Sorry for my broken English btw:"))

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! i’m so glad people think i’ve done a good job at keeping Seb and Painter in character <3!!!! Trying to keep them as in character as possible in the situations i’ve written them in has been a really fun challenge for me!! And thank you so so much for enjoying my writing, it makes me very happy to know that you do!! Raahfhjdhdhd

Work has been kicking my ass this weekend but I’m hoping i can get a story or two out throughout the week! I still literally have an entire list of things planned that I want to get to 😭

#starlit’s bullshit #you guys are awsome ily

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starlitiris · 21 days ago

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“Lilacs” - Painter x Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

beginning notes: no warnings this time, just a continuation of part one with a happy ending. happy halloween everyone!

word count: ~4k

~ 🪻 ~

Sebastian sat with Painter for hours. It took the AI a while to calm down, and even once he did, he didn’t want to be alone for a while. Sebastian didn’t want him to be alone, either.

Painter asked Sebastian to take your body somewhere you wouldn’t be desecrated or disturbed.

There weren’t a whole lot of places like that in the blacksite, but Sebastian knew a spot. He told Painter what the spot was, and asked if he was okay with it. Painter said it was fine. So, Sebastian lifted you with the utmost care, told Painter he would meet with him in his room when he was done, and left.

There’s an area in the oxygen gardens that Sebastian knows the navi-path will never lead any EXR-P to. It’s closed off, untouched by all the chaos of the lockdown. He takes you there.

You’re gently placed down in front of one of the trees, leaning back against it as the trunk kindly holds your weight to keep you sitting up. Sebastian places your hands in your lap.

He stares at you somberly for a moment.

“... I’m sorry.”

He leaves to meet back up with his grieving friend.

Sebastian and Painter reunite in Painter’s room. Sebastian stays for a few more hours. Most of the time he’s there is spent in silence, but he tries to be a little comforting. He’s not great at the whole comforting people thing, but he tries. Painter needs it.

Eventually, Painter tells Sebastian he can go. He asks Painter if he’s sure, and when he says yes, he leaves – but not before telling his friend that he’s always available to come by.

What a day. What a long, painful, exhausting day. Sebastian rubbed the side of his head, feeling a headache coming on as he wandered the blacksite’s halls. Having spent so much time with Painter, he had a lot of scavenging and file reading to catch up on. Not that he really minded – he was happy to be there for his friend. But he did have a lot of work ahead of him. The mere thought of it only spurred his headache on more.

Killing his own best friend. Sebastian had been through a lot, but he couldn’t imagine how awful that would feel. The shock, the sadness, the guilt… it must be torture. Hell, it was torture for Sebastian and he didn’t even know you, let alone kill you.

Sebastian wouldn’t have expected this in a million years. Neither would Painter. I mean, how could they have? You and Painter’s creator were such amazing people. Painter can’t imagine what might have landed you to end up here. He was more certain than anything that you being showing up was an impossibility. But you were here. You are here. They both never would have expected this. They never would have expected you to arrive on that submarine. They wouldn’t have expected you to die before they knew you were in the blacksite. They wouldn’t have expected your own best friend to be the thing that killed you.

And Sebastian certainly wasn’t expecting to be approached by a mysterious benefactor after the fact. A man, dressed in all green that would bring him into a dark room where you would be sat in front of him. Alive.

“... Oh… Hello,” he starts, rather awkwardly.

The green guy – apparently named “Mr. Lopee” – told Sebastian that he was going to keep reviving an expendable to witness if they could see this thing through. He told Sebastian how to go about showing you documents pertaining to your death, and told him to sell you things for any kroner you may be given. But what are the chances that the chosen expendable would be you? Of all people? He had no idea what to say to you. You don’t know that he knows you and Painter know each other- you don’t even know that Painter is the one that killed you! Should he tell you? No, no. Of course not. What if he tells you and you hate Painter because of it? He doesn’t want to be the one to break that news, if it’s ever broken to you.

You’re staring at him, confused. Dammit, what does he say?! Should he just say what Mr. Lopee told him to say and nothing more? He doesn’t want to say anything that’ll confuse you more than you already will be. He doesn’t want to have a part in screwing up your relationship with Painter, either. Dammit, dammit!

Okay. Alright. He knows what to do. He’ll just act like he doesn’t know anything. That’s the best option, right? I mean, even if he wanted to tell you everything he knows, he has no idea how he would say it.

This is the best he can do for now. He’ll act like he doesn’t know.

“You died,” he continues, keeping his composure despite his minor internal panic. “Whaaat a shame. We’ve already met, which I find veeery impressive, considering it's your first time down here.”

All you can see before you is three glowing blue eyes. You had no idea who the thing in front of you was, but after hearing him speak some more, it clicked. This is that Sebastian guy, right? It sounds like him. The eyes make sense now, too.

“Aaanyway,” Sebastian starts up again. “ Since those iiidiots up there didn’t feel like telling you about which exact dangers you’d face down here, I’ve been asked to fill that role. Whenever you die, you'll be brought here, and I’ll show you a document detailing what caused your oh so early demise.”

“Wait,” you interrupt. “I’m… dead?”

“... No. You died. Past-tense. Now you’re not dead. Congratulations,” he informs you dryly.

“I… how?” This was all very confusing. How are you even alive again? None of this is making any sense.

“Well, if you were paying any attention to anything I had just said, you would know that I was just about to show you. May I continue?” He asks, his tone reeking of condescension.

“Uh… yeah. Sure. Sorry.”

Sebastian hums, then continues. He explains to you that a mysterious someone wouldn’t let him show you everything in the documents all at once, but the more times you die to something, the more he’ll be able to show you. You don’t understand why you can’t just know everything in a file upon your first death to whatever’s in it, but you suppose having any information is better than none.

“Alright. Let me find what caused your…” you hear Sebastian shuffling around what you assume to be files. “Ahhh. Here we go.”

He slides an open document over to you on a table that you hadn’t noticed was there until now.

“Internal Defense System…” you read aloud. “... Oh. I remember now.”

Sebastian’s fidgets uncomfortably. You sound angry. You look angry.

He’s definitely not telling you that Painter hijacked the turret system.

Once you finish reading the file, you huff and slide it back towards Sebastian.

“I hate this place,” you mutter.

“You and me both, friend. All set to go back into the fray?” He asks.

You sigh. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“That’s the spirit! Oh, and one more thing before I forget…” Sebastian closes the document and retrieves it from the table.

He informs you that he’s (been forced to) set up a system for you to purchase any items he’s scavenged, all from the submarine you arrive in. You tell him you’ll keep that in mind, and in the blink of an eye, you’re suddenly back in said submarine.

You feel the sub come to a halt and watch the back open for you to exit. Just like the first time you arrived. Only this time, you were alone. You wonder if all your former teammates got to come back, too, or… if it was only you that got revived. You decide you don’t want to think about that too much. You’re already having a hard enough time processing that you’re alive again.

You remember dying. You remember the feeling of getting pelted with bullets before everything went dark. You remember it hurting.

You exit the submarine and retrieve the keycard to the first door while you recollect your untimely – though, temporary – demise. You had barely survived all the dangers you faced before you were shot down. You’re grateful to have another chance at survival, or however many chances you were apparently going to be given, but how the hell were you going to accomplish anything here? This place is awful. Danger quite literally lurks around every corner. You’re certain you’ve only scratched the surface of what dangers here could, and likely would, kill you.

This sucks. A lot.

Though not exactly pleased with your current circumstances, you continue onward anyway. Having unlocked door 1, you take a deep breath, and take your first step back into hell.

Just like last time, the first handful of rooms are uneventful. You make sure to pick up any loose assets you find as the man on the intercom told you. Knowing now that Sebastian would give you items if you had enough data on you was motivation to collect as well.

It isn’t until door 10 that the lights begin to flicker.

“Not again…” you groan, looking for a locker you can hop into.

You hide in time for the familiar and very loud creature to rush past without noticing you. You have no idea what it is, and you quite frankly hope you never have to find out. You survived your first encounter with it purely by chance. You had been off in a side room, helping your team find a keycard for the next door when it came through and blew out the lights.

Speaking of the lights being blown out… you really wish you had a flashlight on you. You exit the locker, unable to see shit. Thankfully, you remember where the next door was and are able to make it there without bumping into anything.

And so your journey continues. You move forward, using what you learned on your first run to keep yourself alive.

As you progress, you become uncomfortably aware of how quiet it is. And, by proxy, aware of how alone you are. It’s unsettling and really makes you wish you had another EXR-P with you.

The silence is giving you too much room to think. The very real and pretty much guaranteed possibility of death makes you anxious. Even though you’re pretty sure you’ll come back anyway, it’s still an unpleasant thought that’s hard to come to terms with. You don’t want to die again. What if you get stuck in an endless loop of death and revival forever?? Is that even possible? It very well could be. Getting the crystal you were sent here for doesn’t feel like an achievable endeavor at this point.

You release a heavy sigh. How did you get here? Where did everything in your life go so wrong?

A bit of a stupid question, really. Stupid, because you know exactly where everything began to spiral.

The day you lost your two closest friends. That’s when everything fell apart.

They were taken from you. One of them died. Correction, actually – one of them was murdered. Details around his death were never released to the public, but you knew. You knew. Somebody, or a group of somebodies, took him away and did god knows what to him. It was the same people that took Painter away from you. You don’t know all the details. You likely never will. But you wish you could. Painter could be dead now too for all you know. Or those people could be using him for whatever they wanted. If that were the case, you’re certain they would never let your friend see the light of day again. Why would they? They killed a man over an AI program. There’s no reason they would hold any compassion for Painter.

… You miss him. You want him back more than anything. He’s just as much a person as you are. As his creator was. You would talk to him all the time, about anything and everything. You helped to teach him a lot about what it meant to be alive, and to feel.

Painter could feel. He was a person. A person that you had fallen in love with. You used to be embarrassed to admit it to yourself, but now? If you could just see him again, one last time… you desperately wanted him to know. You want him to know that he is loved.

You shake your head. “Ugh! Shut up, shut up,” you scold yourself. Dwelling on the past and what could have been won’t help you through this. Focussing on the lights and sounds around you, however, will.

You’re on door 26 now. You’d hardly noticed you made it this far already. You’ve gotten pretty lucky up to this point, you figure, now also realizing you haven’t stumbled upon any false doors this whole time. On top of that, you passed a room with turrets in it earlier, but the turrets weren’t activated. Good for you! A few less things for you to worry about. You know you may have to worry about them again in the future, but for now, you’re just grateful for the temporary mercy.

Oh, this is new. Door 28 has two doors and needs to be opened with a purple keycard, as opposed to a blue one. Odd. You unlock the door with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness. Beyond the two doors is another ordinary looking room with another ordinary, unlocked door. You continue through said door, and are met with a NOT ordinary, very very large airlock door.

“Uhh…” how do they expect you to open this? Did you somehow go the wrong way?

You take a few steps forward and jolt when you hear the airlock start to open on its own.

“Oookay…”

You continue.

This area is very different from what you’re used to. The hallways are massive, there’s forklifts in random places, and a lot of side rooms. There’s also spots where the walls and windows to what you assume are containment cells are smashed and scattered across the floor. It is, to say the very least, not comforting.

The chaos and unfamiliarity of this area leaves you a little more on edge. You would very much like to leave this section as soon as possible.

Having this revelation, you try not to take your time navigating through. Though, having all the lights off in hallways with three branching paths is certainly not helping. Nor are dark octopus-like figures that dwell in the shadows, or the large screaming creatures that rush through the halls. You really, really hate it here.

Eventually, you find a room that looks a lot different from the handful you had just passed through. The start and end of the room still had airlocks, but this time there were a few stairs that led down to a platform occupied with large servers. Through two of the servers, you could see a normal door. You wondered if it was locked. As much as you wanted to leave this area, you couldn’t help but be a little curious. Hopefully your sudden intrigue won’t get you killed. Again.

Cautiously, you wander over to the stairs and take them down, one by one. You make your way around the machinery. You walk up to the door. And with a deep, nervous breath, you open it.

The room was pretty underwhelming. Just some lockers, more machinery, and a computer that was locked behind a fence for some reason. At least it looked safe in here.

You train your eyes on the aforementioned computer. The screen is off, and it looks like the exact same model as your old friend. What a cruel coincidence.

You step into the room. As much as you would like to believe that this computer was him, you knew it was-

“Go away.”

You freeze.

Were… were you hearing things? You had to be, right? There’s no way this was him.

But what if it was…?

“... Painter?” You take your chances and ask.

There’s a long pause.

“... What?”

The screen is still off, but god, it sounds just like him. You can’t be imagining things.

“Painter, is that you…?” You ask again.

The screen finally turns on.

It’s him.

Holy shit, it’s him.

“What…” He stares at you in disbelief. “Y/N?”

You smile and run to the fence, tears already threatening to pour from your eyes. “Painter!! Oh my god, you’re here!!”

“You’re alive?” He asks, not believing what he’s seeing but desperately wanting to.

You hook your hands onto the fence. “Yeah, I’m alive! I’m here!”

“But- how?! How are you alive?!”

“I don’t know, but I… wait, what do you mean?” You question, not understanding why he sounds so disbelieving. Sure, this place is dangerous – you’re certain he knows that as well as you do by now. But shouldn’t he be… happy? Right now, he just looks confused and upset.

“You were dead! I saw you! How are you here?!” The quiver in his voice makes it sound as if he’s on the verge of tears. You’ve never seen him so distraught before.

“You saw me…?” Your heart aches when you ask. The thought of him seeing you dead and not knowing you would come back… “How did you see me? You’re stuck in here, aren’t you?”

“I saw through the cameras! You were dead! I don’t understand…”

“I don’t really understand any of this either. All I know is that one second I was dead on the floor, and the next, I was in a dark room with that Sebastian guy, and-”

“You saw Sebastian? After you came back??” He seems shocked, and maybe even a little more confused than before.

“Uh, yeah. I did. Told me how I died and everything.”

“He… he told you…?” He frowns deeply.

“Yeah. He did.” You frown as well. It hurts to see him so upset.

“... I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. You must hate me now, don’t you…?”

Your eyes widen again at the last thing he said. “Hate you?? No! Why the hell would I hate you, Painter? You’re my best friend! What do you have to be sorry for?”

“It’s my fault! I wasn’t paying attention, and I didn’t realize it was you in time! I could’ve if I hadn’t waited till after! I’m so sorry…”

“Woah, woah, what are you talking about? It’s not your fault I died. And hell, if I had gotten past those turrets, something else probably would’ve killed me anyway. It’s not your fault…”

“... Oh…” Painter has a realization. Of what, you aren’t sure. “He didn’t tell you…”

“What…? Tell me what?” Your concern is only growing the further this goes on.

Painter pauses. “... It was me, Y/N. I activated the turrets.” His painted face morphs into a look of pure guilt. “I killed you.”

You stare, furrowing your brows as you try to understand.

While he watches you piece things together in your head, Painter braces himself for you to yell at him. To scream at him and call him a murderer. There was no way you could forgive him for what he did to you, or to all the other people he’s hurt and killed. You may be alive again, but that wouldn’t stop him from losing you.

“... It’s okay.”

His drawn eyes widen. “... What…?”

“It’s okay. I forgive you,” you reassure him.

“But… How?! I killed you! I…”

“You said you didn’t know it was me, right? I believe you. I know you would never hurt me on purpose,” you rest your forehead gently on the fence, giving Painter a warm smile. “It’s okay. I could never hate you.”

There’s a moment of quiet that falls between you two before Painter bursts into a tearless sob. It breaks your heart to see him like this, but at least there’s a bittersweetness to his crying. He knows now that his favorite person forgives him for doing something unforgivable. To say he’s relieved would be an understatement.

You sit with him for a while as he weeps. When he starts to calm down, you muster the courage to speak again – to tell him something that you’ve wanted to say for a long time.

“Hey… Painter?”

His attention is turned to you again. “Yeah…?”

“I don’t know if now is the best time… but I wanna tell you something. Before something bad happens, and I lose the chance to again.”

His crying comes to a stop as he nervously waits to hear what you have to say. “Okay…”

You bite your lip, a wave of anxiety crashing over you all of a sudden.

You have to say it. Now is your chance.

“... I love you,” you confess, barely above a whisper. “I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way… but that’s okay. I just… needed you to know. I love you. And I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with an unreadable expression. You wish you could tell what he’s thinking. Every second he doesn’t say something feels like a dagger to your heart.

“... I love you, too,” he says finally, a loving smile painting his screen.

You slowly smile again, feeling shocked, hopeful and excited. “You do…?”

“Yes!” He shouts through laughter. “I always have. I never thought you would reciprocate, given that I’m just an AI, but… oh, I’m so happy! You’re okay! You’re alive, and you love me!”

You laugh, tears of joy rolling down your cheeks. You haven’t felt this happy in a long time.

“Oh, Y/N! Wanna see something?” He asks you eagerly.

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” you wipe away some of your tears as Painter pulls up a beautiful drawing.

A drawing of you. Standing in that gorgeous field of purple you used to love, arms outstretched to take in the wind, the sun, and the smell of lilacs surrounding you everywhere.

“Oh, Painter…”

“I paint you all the time. Whenever I get the chance to, at least…” he admits. “I thought about you everyday, out in that field. You looked so happy back then. I missed being there with you, more than anything…” he finished, hints of nostalgia and sadness lacing his words.

You smile sadly. “I missed it, too.”

He puts the artwork away to return a smile again.

You stayed for a long as you felt you could without getting in trouble. You were able to catch up on a lot while you were there, though. Painter told you about what happened to his creator, what Urbanshade made him do after they contained him, and his relationship with Sebastian. You told him what you’d been up to since he’d been taken, and how you ended up as an expendable.

And then you had to go. But before you did, you promised that you would find him again.

And he promised that he would never hurt you again.

You smile, and wave goodbye as you exit his room.

He was sad to see you go, but he knew he would be seeing you again. And that made him happy.

He was so happy he could see you again. You weren’t surrounded in purple lilacs anymore, but you were still just as beautiful.

He’d always had you as the centerpiece of his paintings for a reason, afterall.

~ 🪻 ~

ending notes: i wrote a happy ending for once be proud <3 /j also please please please tell me if you spot a typo so i can fix it SOBS

#pressure fanfic #p.ai.nter x you #p.ai.nter x y/n #p.ai.nter x reader

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