#Idk how they got turned but they got turned

[street-smarts00]

in omnia paratus

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work

WC: 3.5 k

A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied 

Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI

Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you. 

Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind. 

“Do you know how old she is?” 

“No, how old is she?” 

“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi. 

“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid. 

“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added. 

They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview. 

Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.

Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim. 

“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned. 

“Three years,” Penelope answered 

“What? Did she join right after college?” 

“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.” 

Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work. 

“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered. 

Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.” 

Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.” 

She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting. 

All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team. 

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk. 

You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.” 

It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right. 

But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about. 

When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius. 

So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.  

But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time. 

At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him. 

“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”

“Yes,” he guiltily admitted. 

You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?” 

His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.” 

That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.

To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious. 

It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile. 

It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you. 

As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help. 

Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried. 

He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself. 

He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.

So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself. 

Well, until your last case. 

The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man. 

Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took. 

The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go. 

So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk. 

After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.” 

Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked. 

“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word. 

A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes. 

“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.” 

Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?” 

“I promise.” 

Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call. 

“Alright, we can agree to those terms.” 

“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked. 

“Yes?”

“Send in a girl.”

There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call. 

“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.

“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice. 

Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.  

“I’ll do it.”

Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.  

“Reid-”

“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”

“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself. 

You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety. 

He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.” 

Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes. 

You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down. 

“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin. 

You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor. 

“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.

As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked. 

“You always carry this much dead weight on you?” 

He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.” 

You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone. 

The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this. 

But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now. 

He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored. 

This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly. 

Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus. 

More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care. 

He just needed to get to you. 

When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor. 

Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up. 

Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs. 

He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name. 

“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd. 

He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm. 

He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm. 

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted. 

“My head hurts,” you mumbled.

His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.” 

You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face. 

“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.

Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.

Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to. 

You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place. 

And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him. 

He was wrong. 

Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for. 

But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.

To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you. 

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you. 

When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.” 

“Hi,” he smiled back.  

“How are you feeling?” 

You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor. 

“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.” 

“Fun,” you said sarcastically. 

A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them? 

There is no casual way. 

“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 

You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”

He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out. 

He wasn’t aware you heard it. 

“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.

“Why?” you asked curiously. 

He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-

“It just … felt right.” 

“Oh,” you replied quietly.

Spencer tensed up at your response. 

“If I crossed the line-“ 

“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice. 

The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”  

His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face. 

“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.” 

Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain. 

The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him. 

He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit. 

“I was really worried about you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he interjected. 

“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble. 

You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”

“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume. 

“Reid-”

“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!” 

“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you. 

He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.

You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours. 

“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled. 

“But if-“

“Spencer.”

“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.” 

You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart. 

“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started. 

With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.” 

“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.

“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.” 

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”

A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go. 

The silence was deafening, plaguing him. 

“Please … say something,” he begged. 

Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.

“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone. 

Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.” 

You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious. 

“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.” 

Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles. 

The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room. 

“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into. 

You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks. 

“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered. 

“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise. 

She raised and shook the jello container in her hand. 

“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left. 

Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath. 

“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?” 

He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.” 

“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.

“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. 

“You’re an amazing profiler.” 

You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled. 

“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone. 

“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.” 

“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything

Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7

[cutieln4]

Hot Laps | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: lando takes an actress on a hot lap. they immediately have chemistry.

fc: marsai martin, pinterest girls

a/n: GUYS IM SORRY!!!! college is kicking my ass and my friends are being fake so i'm sorry it's been a while my motivation has kinda been down :( also sorry it's short

yourusername

Liked by zendaya, jennaortega, and others

yourusername new movie coming out soon!!! go watch it!!

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username1 I CAN'T WAIT OMGGGG

zendaya gorgeous as always

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username6 IM SO EXCITED

username7 face card never declines

yourusername added to their story

caption: GUESS WHOS GOING TO THE MIAMI GP!!!

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username1 OMG I HOPE I SEE YOU

username2 lock your doors

username3 ugh more celebrities that know nothing about f1 getting invited🙄

mclaren We're excited to have you!

f1

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f1 Lando Norris takes actress Y/n Y/l/n on a hot lap! Watch the full video here

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landonorris just a bit?

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username5 they were both so quick with their responses like the chemistry is insane

username6 idk who i'm jealous of more

username7 it felt like i was interrupting something

username8 she's so beautiful

username9 it was all too much for little lando norris

landonorris

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landonorris WOOOO P1!!!! Thanks for being my good luck charm, @.yourusername you'll have to come to races more often😉

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username1 HELLLOOOO????

danielricciardo they grow up so fast🥹

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landonorris see you soon!

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yourusername

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yourusername thank you again mclaren for the invite, i think papaya is my color! and i even got to see some cute boy win!

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username1 "some cute boy" yeah okay

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username8 they NEED to date or else i will be upset

landonorris

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landonorris nice little break😊

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username1 WHAT

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username9 guys what if she's just saying that to throw us off?

username10 okay but she is literally filming for a movie she can't just go on vacation

yourusername just added to their story

Caption: who's this cutie?

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username1 YES MY PARENTS HAVE REUNITED

landonorris hmm i don't know, you should ask him🤔

username2 is his gf ok with you calling him cute??? homewrecker

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yourusername

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yourusername fun weekend😚

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username1 WHITE BOY SPOTTED

username2 dare i say it...is that lando

username3 he already has a gf

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username5 bruh there's billions of people in this world it could be anyone

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username7 interesting...

landonorris

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landonorris fuck a soft launch

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username1 OMG I KNEW IT

yourusername LANDO WHAT ABOUT OUR PLAN??

landonorris sorry🤷‍♂️

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yourusername

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yourusername yes it was me all along

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username1 MY PARENTS IM SO HAPPY

username2 dare i say the hottest couple ever??

landonorris my sweetheart🧡

username3 when will it be my turn😫

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[la-di-da-la-di-dee-die]

@wolfythewitch ‘s Gravity Fowls au has awoken a lost childhood memory of mine recently, specifically because their au is so similar to one of my favorite books when I was a kid: Fantastic Mr. Fox

Basic summary of the book: Three Evil Capitalist Farmers attempt to starve local anthro fox family who regularly steal their products (chickens, goose, duck, turkey, and apples/cider) via bio terrorism, failing miserably at every turn.

Now, you may be wondering, what the actual fuck does that have to do with Gravity Fowls? Well, a major part of the book is that the previously mentioned anthro-fox family has been forced underground by previously mentioned Evil Capitalist Farmers, and so Mr. Fox (the mc) has to devise a fool proof method of getting his family food: tunneling farther underground toward the Evil Capitalist Farms and stealing their produce that way instead of the regular way. I don’t know why, but that just sounds like something Bill would do? Like it just fits his vibes.

So, I just had to draw Bill in Mr. Fox’s outfit!

Isn’t he just so handsome? I also drew one other fanart, and some quick context for this next one:

The Evil Capitalist Farmers also accidentally drive the other wildlife into hiding with their bio-terrorism, which are also anthropomorphic (note: all the animals are anthro, but not the chickens or other produce? Probably too dark for a kids book idk). The other animals blame Mr. Fox for being a fucking sneak, and Mr. Fox is like, woah guys! Don’t worry, I’ve fixed everything, I’ve got an infinite food glitch! We just use these tunnels me and the fam have dug to steal more food! I even got some carrots for the vegetarians! And the other animals are like, alright seems legit.

Why all this context? Because I drew Bill’s henchmaniac crew as origami animals based off the other animals from Fantastic Mr. Fox:

I imagine they still live in the nightmare dimension, but they just origami now. btw all the animals in the book have names like Mr. Weasel, and Mr. Mole, with wife and kids too, which is wild to me. Except Mr. Rat. He’s an aweful disgusting thief (which, who in this book isn’t??) whose constantly getting drunk off Cider (which, again, who tf in this book isn’t?? Even one of the anthro-kids gets drunk at some point??)

But I didn’t just make fanart that catered to me and only me, I also made this:

I had this thought of, what if during weirdmagedon, instead of just getting a 3D form, Bill turns into an actual fox, not just an origami one? So that’s where this came from. Also it should be criminal how long it took me to draw Stanford! I spent so long on that fucking chicken.

Uhm, conclusion? Gravity Fowls is awesome, and respect to Wolfythewitch for being able to actually draw chickens consistently well, I only dream to be able to master that skill.

[starseungs]

to love you like the snow melts. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — if seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring.

GENRE/S — fluff, maybe kinda emotional (or is that just me), slight college au mentioned in passing, he fell first trope • 1.1k words

WARNING/S — nothing really unless you're not into lovesick pining, story told in seungmin's pov, slightly unedited cz idk

( ✒️ ) happy seungmin day !! i think i dissociated while writing this fic cause man... i barely remember shit 😭 i originally had a plan going into writing this but it just got thrown out the window by my brain apparently (also this fic is inspired by one of the results in this quiz cause i loved the prompt i got so much) this fic is a bit short but i hope yall like it <3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Seungmin’s eyes love to rest on you. 

That was an undoubtable fact in his life—one that he, himself, doesn’t even know how it started. Yet, the acknowledgement of this unknown didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it was a source of comfort for him; a way of reminding himself of the joy in living. To Seungmin, one thing was for certain: He was given the gift of sight to experience you in your entire beauty.

He first met you in a university lecture, where you simply happened to frequent the seat just a row behind and two chairs away from where he usually sat. Perhaps he was enamored from the very beginning. It was like his gaze would always find a way back to you whenever you were in his immediate vicinity, reminiscent of a magnet longing to cling to metal.

That was also the way he took in your presence as a whole. Seungmin was a man starved for knowledge, desperately clawing for anything he could get to broaden his desired expertise that was you. He particularly loved the way your eyes drooped whenever the lecture of the day bore you, as well as your tendency to make origami on available paper during the times you could care less to listen. The latter always ended up with you blinking endearingly after a successful craft, glancing around the people near you to figure out who to present it to.

Oh, how he wished he had been over there instead, happily receiving a paper star to keep. However, it was your friends that surrounded you on a daily, barely giving you time to be alone. And maybe you didn’t want to be alone—another thing about you that he’d like to discover the truth to. But he thought that until the day he somehow found himself stumbling into your life, he’d have to be grateful to your friends for making you shine the way you deserved every step of the way.

So, imagine his surprise when he finally got the chance to make a mark in the vast expanse of your world.

The opportunity came in the form of a group project with you; the catalyst in which his whole life began to change. Friendly introductions of obligation quickly turned into incessant strings of conversation, bringing the two of you closer. The sheer pace of the development was overwhelming. Seungmin never thought his presence bore enough weight for gravity to grab him by the neck and lock him in the system of the star that was you. 

It was a trip and a half, consisting of countless miles to lap around with seemingly no end. So much, that he feared falling out of your grace—to be like a passing asteroid who foolishly dreamt of becoming a planet. Seungmin was endlessly yearning to solidify his place in your world, just like he always wanted. And still, despite that all, he didn’t show it. He merely laughed when you laughed, stayed silent when you needed silence, and experienced anger on your behalf when you couldn’t show it for yourself. 

Because Kim Seungmin knew that you needed to be loved patiently.

Even throughout the tightrope of uncertainty he walked months on like his life depended on it, he never once made it seem like he was waiting on a move from you. If Seungmin wanted to be loved like a planet being discovered, he wanted to love you like the snow melted during the cusp of spring. 

Seungmin knew that even with the shows of your cheery demeanor, your heart still remained frosted over from your previous winters. That even when your fingers danced their way to intertwine with his, there was still that moment of hesitation. He was forever thankful that you caught him from falling when he did, refusing to let him disappear into the abyss. Yet, who was lighting up the skies of which you lay under to stare at each day?

He longed to give you a love that was true. One where he showed you how warmth creeped in with small trickles of heat, giving you enough time to decide whether you truly wanted it or not. Love that was considerate in the way that it willingly warned you of its presence, but in a way that cupped your cheeks and sang you lullabies. To love you gently as to not sully your shoes with messy, muddy soil of the ground peeking out from beneath the snow. 

To Seungmin, there was no greater gift than being able to be the sign of your spring.

“Baby?” You called out to him softly, a flash of concern twinkling behind your gaze. “Is anything wrong?”

Seungmin feels like he was just coaxed out of a trance, previously being too occupied studying the details of you at the moment, as if he hadn’t already spent the past hour doing just that. A string of golden celebration banners made its presence known in the corner of his eye, briefly acknowledging the once-a-year greeting printed on them. The slight smell of smoke fully brought him back to his senses, finally glancing down towards the cake with a small lit-up candle you were presenting him.

Right. It was his birthday today.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No,” he replies truthfully. “Everything is perfect.” Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, having trouble making sense of the situation. Seungmin has half a mind to think if you would forgive him if he tried to straighten it out with his thumbs as a tease.

“But, you’re not blowing out your candles,” you purse your lips in contemplation. He feels an unstoppable force creeping up to turn the corners of his mouth upwards. Did you even know just how much he loves you?

“I was just enjoying the view, that’s all.”

Your demeanor visibly brightens up. “Is the cake that pretty?” Was your smug question, clearly feeling proud of yourself. “I worked hard on that, you know?” 

Seungmin only smiles. Like he always does whenever it concerns you. That warm boyish grin he had paired with a certain fond look in his eyes that his friends never failed to point out just to fluster him into oblivion. But he lets them anyway. There was no way he could ever deny the truth of how strongly he felt for you.

“I know.” 

Because he always does. 

And as he leaned forward to feel the last heat of the flickering candle before it went out, he couldn’t help but think that the snow had finally melted. His wish had already come true.

“Happy birthday, Seungmin!”

Spring has come.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme @yaniiiiism

[elliesgaythoughts]

toxic bbf!ellie pt2

angst & smut

a/n: now idk how i feel about this one but i kinda like it but i kinda don’t so idk yall can be the judge of this

warnings: long ahh fic, strap r! receiving, size kink, exhibitionist kink, squirting, use of mama ofc, use of doll and pretty girl, titty sucking, masturbation e!receiving.

jealousy coiled in the depths of ellies stomach as she watched the pale hand skim the outside of your bare thigh.

it was just the three of you in the house. ellie, with her auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun as she sat manspread. her palm rested against her stomach that was twisting with guilt and jealousy as she watched the pair of you from across the living room in her single chair. 

she came over to meet with your brother but he wasn’t back from football practice yet so she thought she may aswell show up early and fuck you for a while until he arrives.

her plans took a sudden turn for the worse when you answered the door to her with an abby anderson standing behind you with low eyes and arms wrapped around your torso.

“you can wait in the living room ellie” you rolled your eyes dismissively and slammed the door behind her..

you sensed the way ellies green eyes bore into your cleavage that peeked above your tight vest. it ignited a flame in you as you watched jealousy eat away at her from the corner of your peripheral as abbys firm hand massaged the plush of your thigh as she watched the tv mindlessly.

you invited the muscular blonde over tonight knowing that ellie would be there. you needed someone to make you feel better after all ellie had put you through and you knew the girl that ellie has hated since childhood was just the one you needed.

abby lightly tapped your outer thigh signalling you to climb onto her lap. your ass peeked out of the bottom of your tiny little shorts, giving ellie the perfect view as abbys hand slid higher and higher up your thigh, her thumb lightly brushing your clit caused your breath you to hitch as she giggled at your reactions to her touch as you blushed stupidly.

ellie coughed to clear her throat, catching both of your attention before she spoke with sarcasm dripping in her tone “maybe you two may want to go upstairs” she said, knowing what was about to happen and hating how the sight of your face blushed and your nipples poking through your tiny vest had her clit throbbing in her jeans. even though it was because of another woman she still took in the sight of you like she earned it. her mind ran wild with thoughts of how it could’ve been her making a mess of you on that sofa and it ate away at her.

“why?” you groaned, not even sparing ellie a glance as you kissed at the side of abbys neck, licking up the vein that appeared there as she strained a moan at the feeling of you grinding against her belt buckle.

ellies pussy was fucking beating as she resisted the urge to buck her hips up against nothing. her nails dug into the armrest of her chair as the plush of her lips separated to speak “because you both are being whores”

you could hear the irritation in her voice and you couldn’t help but giggle at how easily you got under her skin before you sighed softly at her “oh ellie you can leave whenever you want” you teased. the room went silent as you waited for her to leave, knowing she wouldn’t.

you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you softly gripped abbys throat and looked into her baby blue eyes “you don’t mind putting on a show, do you?” her hands gripped your hips tightly “i don’t give a fuck about that bitch.”

usually ellie would be on her feet at the sound of somebody talking shit about her but right now her mind was at other places while her ears rang, not hearing the “thank you, daddy” that rolled off of your tongue before you gave abby a sloppy kiss.

her tongue rolled against yours. almost as slow as your hips moved back and forth against the bulge in her pants as you grew wetter at the feeling of this girl being completely lost in lust over you and the thrill of putting on a such a show for ellie.

the longer you made out the more frantic abby became over you as her hands wondered every curve of your body, skimming the goosebumps on your thighs, cupping your breasts and toying with your nipples before lifting your vest over your head and tossing it in ellies direction before instantly latching her mouth onto your perky tits, making a moan leave your throat as you gripped the back of her head “mhm just like that mama.” you groaned out.

after a few minutes of abby moaning against your tits pathetically you gripped her plait and pulled her hair back, making yet another whine leave the girl. she was fucking crazy over you already. this felt so much better than whatever it was ellie had going on.

abbys eyes met ellies as your hands trailed down abbys chest, skimming the material of her nike sports bra, down her firm abs and finally to her buckle as you trailed your false nail over the cute little design on it “may i?” “uh huh” abby hummed as her hips thrusted up gently against you.

you undone her belt and pulled her zipper down as the pink silicone sprung out of her trousers “fuck” you spoke to yourself as you took in the size of her. it was bigger than anything you’ve ever had before but that only excited you more as she gripped it and tapped it against your pajama covered pussy “you think you can handle it for me baby?”

butterflies danced in your tummy as your face heated up “mhm” you spoke shyly but to be honest with yourself you weren’t to sure but you knew you weren’t going to go down without a fight…

your head was spinning as the tip of her strap stretched you out and your chest grew hot “oh fuck” you whispered as your breath left your body and your eyes fluttered close as you gripped her shoulders and lowered yourself onto her. the burn from the stretch was addictive as your eyes teared up and your pants turned into zoned out whines “oh my god” you strained out to say as two pairs of eyes watched how drunk you became because of abbys dick.

ellies hand fell against her crotch as she closed her eyes and listened to the sultry sounds that left you. she wore a furrow on her forehead as her fingertip pressed against her clit while she heaved a breath through her lips and rocked her fingertip back and forth as her thighs spread farther apart.

a broken moan left you as you took in the last of abby.

your eyes were still closed as you steadied your breathing. your arms wrapped around her neck, loving the feeling of her back muscles under your fingertips and her dick taking up more room inside you than you had to offer.

you opened your heavy eyelids as your eyes met abbys. sweet whines left you as you swayed your hips, opening yourself up as she reached down and massaged your clit back and forth. your movements were in sync with hers as you got lost in her gaze.

ellie watched your back arch to reveal your soaked pussy that swallowed abby so greedily. ellie fucking hated this. her fingers sped up as she rubbed her pussy frantically over her trousers as her other hand clasped firmly over her mouth, catching a moan against her palm.

you loved the sound of the muffled moans from behind you mixing with yours as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. abbys dick hit deep inside you with every bounce of your hips down onto her as you gasped for breath and moaned curses to yourself.

you leaned back and held yourself up with one of your hands against her knee while the other reached down and played with your clit as you gave the tall blonde the image of her cock nestled inside you as you released a pornographic moan as your head fell back and your eyes landed onto ellies.

almost instantly all of the freckled girls pride disappeared before your eyes as her breath hitched and she shamelessly humped her hand right in front of you “ohfuck” she rushed out as she felt her pussy leak through her trousers. her hips stuttered and with the way her mouth fell open you already knew she was done for as you quickly turned your attention back onto abby.

you gripped her chin to steady yourself as your hips rolled up, keeping just her tip inside you as you circled your waist and slammed yourself back down against her over and over. the harness bumping her clit had her bucking her hips aimlessly as you leaned over her, looking into her glossy eyes as tears of ecstasy threatened to spill “so pretty doll” you cooed.

abby nodded as her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure and she landed a harsh smack to your asscheek and pulled you closer as she grinded against the base of her harness, grinding her dick into you farther as she whined in response to you licking the side of her ear and whispering “cum for me.”

somehow ellie must have thought you were talking to her because right after abbys eyes rolled to the back of her skull ellies voice cracked with a “fuck you” as you noticed the all too familiar final low groan of her reaching her orgasm.

both of the girls laid there twitching as their orgasms pulsed through them while they watched you rub your clit softly and your eyes flutter close. “damn” you hummed as your pussy squeezed her dick and your forehead pressed against abbys while she watched you in awe as your legs shook and stomach contracted as your orgasm creeped closer “im gonna cum. c-can i cum?” you begged shakily.

“y-yeah cum for me baby” abby stuttered out. her big hand reached forward and gripped your both of your tits as has her mouth met your sensitive bud. her tongue rolled over your nipple before her cheeks hallowed and sucked a bruise onto to flesh, bringing you over the edge as you shook and moaned ellies name as you finally came, squirting all over abbys dick and lower stomach as your body convulsed and you lost basically all consciousness.

your eyes fell closed. you felt pure ecstasy as your vision went white and your ears rang. all you could hear was the sound of your own breath’s steadying and ellies little snicker in abbys direction as she realised the hold she continued to have over you.

ellie stood on wobbly legs and ran her fingers through her messy auburn hair  that fell out of her bun.

she spoke down to abby “clean her up for me.” as a sick laugh left her and she walked out of the room, leaving you and abby in silence as everything started to come back to you. fuck. why the fuck did you say that.

your forehead left abbys shoulder and your eyes met hers. guilt coursed through you when you saw her eyes well with tears and your gut twisted as her head dipped “uh l-let me help you get cleaned up” she barely whispered.

“babe-” your voice cracked as you tried to speak while you lifted her chin.

tears spilled over your eyes and ran down your cheeks as you sat there speechless.

“it’s okay” abby sighed through her lips.

“baby she’s nothing to me” you rushed out.

her words were barely above a whisper at this point as she pulled her shirt back on and guided you off of her gently. leaving you on the sofa as she stood over you. she jumped slightly as she heard the front door slam and ellies truck start in the driveway.

“don’t fucking lie to me” and just like that abby left you too. leaving you in puddle of your own cum and guilt.

you hated how you felt. your body convulsed as you curled up into a ball and sobbed into your palms as snot ran down your nose. you felt like you were about to fucking puke as you heard someone pull out of the driveway.

you ran out of your front door hoping to see abby but your blood started to boil at the sight of ellie rolling a joint in the front of her truck.

“what the fuck ellie?!” you yelled.

she rolled her window down and tilted her head for you to come closer as you walked towards her “what?! what the fuck do you want?”

“aye calm down mama. it’s not my fault you had to think of me to cum with that bitch”

you started to giggle as tears fell from your eyes again you felt like you were going insane. “what the actual fuck?” you asked throwing your arms out to the side “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

she shrugged her shoulders as she took a hit and blew the smoke towards your face making you break out coughing as you waved the cloud away.

“get the fuck out of my driveway ellie” she took a deep breath “nah. im good” you pushed her through the space in her window “get the fuck out!”

ellie ignored you entirely “here take a hit princess. you really need to calm down” you ripped the joint from her hand and tossed it down onto the ground “fuck you ellie”

ellie simply rolled her eyes and turned the radio up before muttering “psycho bitch” under her breath and pulling out of the driveway, leaving you standing there in front of your fucking neighbours with your hair a mess and tears falling for the what felt like hundredth time tonight as your brother pulled up against the curb.

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull

[niya-writesshit]

cowboy!artdonaldson x fem!reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW: use of y/n (1), smut MDNI - oral (f receiving), swearing, not proofread

word count: 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n: uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference! and this is kinda shit im sowwy. REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY.

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there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotched. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties with a crooked finger. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.'the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

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¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

¡! ❞ a/n: i believe this is the longest thing i've written on this blog everyone applaud!

[jaythes1mp]

yan!Batfam x Ponyo!Reader!! 🐟🩷❤️

On days like these Damien strolled around the shoreline. Patrolling the nearby warehouses, looking for any of the local villains henchmen bringing anything suspicious to them. But to his disappointment, nothing... to complete his disappointment, he hasn't been commed about anything crimes near his area.

Looking around the shore he scoffs picking up a broken bottle, "The least these criminals could do is throw their trash away..." Damien sneers as he threw it away. He can't believe it, he's so bored that he's cleaning the shoreline.... He's was a vigilante for Batman's sake! He grew up around blood and bodies!!

As he starts to clean the trash, he spots something moving and clinking around. Walking closer, it seems to be a fish! Huh... wait.... it's stuck in a jar! The closer he got, the more he saw. The fish is odd looking... quite human? Damien decides not to think further about it, he needs to help the fish. He crouches down and tries to get the fish out. As he does so he thinks, 'It looks like a goldfish... Who in their right mind dumps a goldfish in the sea, didn't they know they're freshwater??! They're also invasive and bad for the local marine life!' After struggling to get the fish out, he decided to break the jar. Picking up a near by rock, he hits the jar as hard as he could, while trying to not strike the fish.

Damien carelessly picked up the fish from the broken glass, accidentally cutting his gloves. As he was about to looks at his teared glove, he felt a sting. Dropping the fish quickly as fast he could, Damien looks down at his hand. A bite mark?! He's bleeding too, how? How could a fish bite down hard enough for him to bleed??

He read about some fish having teeth, but a goldfish having teeth? Impossible! As he ponders Damien looks down at the strange goldfish, 'Should I take it home to study it? To keep?' as he does that, his comm rings. He quickly looks at the fish then his comm. It was Alfred!

He quickly turns it on, "Hello Alfred..." a second to long for him, Alfred chimed "Hello young master Damien," without missing a beat, Damien asks "Is there anything you need?". "Yes, you have school tomorrow." said Alfred, 'Dammit,' Damien didn't even realize it's around that time! He quickly looks around and sees a plastic pail, he runs to grab it and quickly scoops up the fish with some water, and books it back to the batmobile.

Funnily enough, as he and Bruce rode into the Batcave, Bruce didn't notice the plastic pail. Damien quickly hid the bucket, and starts getting out of his costume. Just as quickly, he picks up the pail and runs back to his room. As he was up in the manor, Alfred asks, "What is in the pail, young master?" Damien froze as the question was asked. He didn't want to tell anyone about the strange goldfish, but this is Alfred asking! One cannot just keep a secret from Alfred. Reluctantly he said, "I found a strange fish while on patrol, it was stuck in a jar..." hopefully that was enough to satisfy Alfred. "Are you rehabilitating the fish, young master?" Alfred questioned again, "Yes, I am... I'm worried about it's fins, I had to break the jar after all." He(Alfred) nods, "As long as you go to bed after," he walks off, probably to treat any of his brothers who'd might've gotten hurt during patrol. "Goodnight young master." "Goodnight, Alfred..."

After their parting words, Damien goes up to his room and checks on the fish's fins. After a few minutes, there was no tear or any wounds on it. As about he was going to bed, Damien worries about the fish. The pail he currently has it in isn't an adequate enclosure. Unfortunately, that's tomorrow Damien's problem. As he closes his eyes, he thought he heard a child's voice calling his name...

(idk if Gotham is near water or somethin... but there now!!)

Ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo ponyo

Masterlist

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 18 - Something In The Static

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: I’d like to dedicate this chapter to my friend who I finally got to watch the Boys and we’re talking about Soldier Boy and I have to pretend I’m not doing this and be very normal about the conversation.

Also for everyone who's gonna say “why is Ezekiel alive”, Butcher never went all tentacle tumor on us, and therefore Ezekiel is still very much alive. “Well how did Butcher survive their encounter” idk maybe he kissed Ezekiel and then just ran away.

Chapter Title from Not Strong Enough by boygenius

Word Count: 25.7k......

Chapter Summary/Warnings: The Believe Expo is underway, and everyone is dealing with a lot of emotions. Usual warnings, time two. We're looking at angst and smut and (minimal) fluff. Just a hodgepodge of everything.

Read on A03!

Chapter 17 - Chapter 19

Coconut might be the worst smell in the world. Not real coconut, but this fake, chemical coconut that was everywhere in Homelander’s apartment. Everywhere on Homelander. Too sweet and impossible to not think about. It burns your nose, and you’re starting to wonder if it’s some kind of poison cologne. Something designed to make him even harder to stand against, because you always have to use a hand to block the smell from your nose. You’d never smelled it in the white room, but Homelander always went through an airlock before he visited you. This is just him, all the time, and you’re choking on it. 

He still hadn’t touched you. And they hadn’t locked you back down. You think that, between Noir’s sudden and heroic death very vaguely “defending our country” and the the CIA releasing a statement that you’re being held against your will by Vought—you’re surprised Mallory didn’t take the disavowing you entirely path, but here you are—Sage is too busy putting out fires to convince Homelander that you didn’t break that easy. That, after Noir II, you’d gotten back up. Revised your role, changing how you played it, and kept moving. You would not break, not like this, not where Homelander could see it. He didn’t fucking deserve to see you break, really break. He could think he’d gotten you to understand, but you would never allow him to see what you breaking really looked like.

You would break—really break, with screams and sobs and nails in your skin and not getting back up—when you got home. When you could cry into Ben’s chest, and he could keep your nails on his arm instead of your own. He’d pick you up. He’d pick you up in strong, safe arms and carry you to bed, holding you as long you asked him to. Everything would smell like pine and Ben, and you’d be able to break without the freezing cold making you glue yourself together. You’d just break. 

But not now. Not yet.

Not when there was still work to do.

A-Train had found you a few days after Noir II, after the CIA had responded to your speech. An official statement from the director, co-signed by president Robert Singer, stating that Soldier Boy was indeed a CIA operative, that Vought had no jurisdiction to declare him a public enemy, and that the Anomaly was currently being tortured by Vought to comply with their agenda. They didn’t say the whole truth, because according to them you and Ben were co-workers—nothing more—and Homelander had been obsessed with you since you were both young supes but you’d turned him down numerous times. You wish they had just committed to it. Just told the world what Homelander was, what he’d done to you, but the truth did somehow sound more absurd. And right now wasn’t about the truth, it was about doing what needed to be done. You had to trust that Mallory was smart. That she knew what she was doing. 

It would be really helpful if A-Train had a similar leniency. 

“What are they doing?” He’d skidded to a stop in front of you again, in another too-fancy bathroom at another boring event. 

You’d held up a single finger, taking a long, deep breath. You were curled up on the floor, under a hand-dryer that you kept pushing the button of to make the warm air blast onto your head. It was helpful, it made you feel a little more alive and was a lot more sustainable than constant vomiting. 

A-Train had just kept talking, pacing in front of you. “Sage is really not happy, there’s no fucking way I can risk talking to MM now. That was not smart, that shit you did on TV. You know why Sage isn’t here? The Deep went to a fucking Panera last night without telling anyone and Sage is pulling camera footage to make sure he’s telling the truth. And Noir is dead-“ 

“Can you please shut up?” You’d muttered, tapping against your calves. “I know what I did. I knew there would be consequences. I’m willing to live with them.” 

“Well, I’m not!” A-Train’s feet had stopped in front of you, and you’d reached up to hit the button again. Letting the hot air push on the top of your head, calming you as he continued. “This isn’t just about you, you’re not the only one who’s suffering-“ 

“I could say the same to you.” 

“Come on-“ 

“I’m serious,” you’d looked up at him with a scowl as the wind above you stopped once more. “This is good. Ben can help them now, Annie has more fuel against Vought, and Butcher and Mallory will know how to work this.” 

“Fine, but I’m not helping you at all if you keep this shit up,” A-Train had snapped your name. “I’ve got people, I can’t risk my nephews for this-“ 

“Okay.” 

He’d blinked at you. “Okay? That’s it?” 

“Yeah. Okay.” You’d shrugged. “I can’t make you help me. If you won’t, you won’t. I can handle this myself.” 

“You’re really not going to lecture me about being a hero, or doing the right thing?” 

You’d shaken your head, looking back down at the floor. “I don’t really have legs to stand on there. I got Noir II killed, I killed Firecracker, I’ve destroyed at least two buildings and gotten a lot of other, innocent people killed by proximity. I mean, fuck, I’m in love with Soldier Boy-“ 

You hadn’t meant to say that. It had fallen out of your mouth and you’d stuttered to a stop, but it was too late. When you looked back up at A-Train, his mouth was hanging open. 

“You-“ 

“Please don’t tell anyone that,” you’d whispered. “I didn’t mean to tell you that, I’m just exhausted-“ 

“I’m not going to.” A-Train had still been frowning at you. “I mean, I don’t really care about your personal shit. Even if it’s being in love with Soldier Boy.” A-Train had frowned. “Isn’t he technically Homelander’s father?” 

“Yeah,” you’d leaned your head back against the wall. “And I’m aware of how fucked up that is.” 

A-Train had shrugged. “All of this is fucked. I don’t think you fucking Soldier Boy is any less fucked than anything else we’ve all done.” 

“We’ve never actually fucked,” you’d mumbled, because you couldn’t stop now. In no world had you foreseen the I’m very in love with Ben and it’s all impossibly confusing and complicated conversation happening in a fancy bathroom with A-Train, but you had started it and now you were apparently incapable of stopping it. “I mean, we’ve done stuff. But not fucking.” 

“Okay.” A-Train had frowned. “Why the fuck are you telling me that?” 

“Because I’m lonely.” You’d looked up at him with a sad smile. “And you’re here.” 

He’d nodded, then moved away. You’d thought he’d left, just pissed off because he didn’t want to deal with this. But he’d dropped against the wall across from you with a sigh, pulling off his visor to meet your eyes. “How long?” 

You’d frowned at him. “How long?” 

“Have you and Soldier Boy been not fucking.” 

“February. But, uh,” you’d shaken your head. “I think I might have been in love with him before that.” 

“Okay,” A-Train had nodded, and kept going. “Does Homelander-“ 

“He found out after the interview. Sage told him.” 

“And your team-“ 

“I’m not sure. They know we’re close, and maybe some of them have figured out it’s more than that, but I’m really not sure.” You’d tilted your head at him. “Why are we talking about this?” 

“I don’t exactly have a lot of friends either.” A-Train muttered. “I killed the only woman I’ve ever loved because Homelander told me to, Sage is a bitch, and the Deep is an idiot. Ashley’s fine, sometimes, but we don’t exactly talk about things that aren’t life or death.” 

“Oh,” you’d nodded. “Okay.” 

It had been silent for a second, both of you watching each other wearily. 

“Does he know?” 

You’d blinked. “Who?” 

“Soldier Boy. Does he know you love him?” 

“No,” your voice had cracked a little, a lump forming in your throat. “It’s complicated.” 

“Does he love you?” 

“No.” 

A-Train had blinked at your answer. “You said that really fast.” 

“He doesn’t,” you’d let out a long breath before continuing. “I’m okay with it. He just doesn’t and it’s fine.” 

He’d looked like he’d wanted to keep pushing. You’re grateful he didn’t, because if you kept talking about Ben you might have started crying. 

“I, uh,” A-Train had shaken his head, foot tapping on the floor. “When I was a kid I wanted to be a hero. Just, while we’re talking about fucked shit, I wanted to be a hero. A real hero. My brother said I could help people, and I really did believe him. And then I just, I got lost. It’s a shit ton harder to be a hero when it’s not just a word. When you actually have to back it up and nobody around you seems to care. Now it’s probably too fuckin late.” 

“I don’t think it’s ever too late,” you’d watched him carefully, speaking slowly. “You can always change. Humans aren’t static. We’re always changing. It’s a strange kind of exceptionalism to think you’re immune to that. To think you’re special enough to not be capable of being better.” 

A-Train had narrowed his eyes at you. “What are you talking about.”

“I dedicated my whole life before this to studying people,” you’d held his gaze, not wavering on your words. “And you realize pretty fast that concepts of good and bad are different across the world. It’s not something that’s fixed, because people aren’t fixed. We’re not born good or bad. We are who we are, who we’ll be, but we also make choices. I mean,” you’d shrugged. “You can keep doing good things, or bad things, or nothing at all. But you’re never incapable of doing something different. If you think you can’t, it’s because you think you’re too good to be better. But everyone is always capable of being better.” 

“Like Soldier Boy?” 

“Like Ben,” you’d whispered. “He’s better. And he’s good. Really good.” 

“And you really love him?” 

You’d swallowed. “Yeah. A lot.” 

A-Train had nodded. “You think he’ll be waiting for you?” 

“Yes.” You’d answered without hesitation. Ben may not love you, but he’d never leave you. If you knew one thing in all of this, it was that Ben would never leave you. “He will.” 

“Then what?” 

You’d frowned at him. “What are you talking about?” 

“When this is over. If you win,” A-Train had shrugged. “Then what?” 

“I,” you’d shaken your head. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” 

“You have to have a reason you’re still going,” A-Train had leaned forward slightly. “It can’t just be because you’re a fucking good person.” 

“I’m not-“ 

“Yeah, you are.” A-Train had rolled his eyes. “You’re better than me, than all of us. Congratulations, you did it. You won the stupid contest.”

“I didn’t-”

He’d kept going, ignoring your protest. “But you have to have something you want. Everyone has something they want. That’s how this shit gets out of control.” He’d sighed. “You get promised the thing you want and never fully get it. Then it’s never enough.” 

“I don’t have anything I want,” you’d mumbled. “Just for this to be over.” 

“After that,” A-Train had snapped. “You’ve got to think of after. Otherwise you’ll just burn out.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“Is a vengeance fueled asshole. That dude might not have an after. I want my family back. So does MM. Hughie and Annie probably want a peaceful, boring fucking life. Ashley wants a year at a spa. What do you want.” 

You’d swallowed. “I don’t know.” 

“Think about it. What did you want before?”

“To do something important,” you’d said softly, rubbing circles against your arms. “Have a job where I helped people, where I was respected in my field. Then go home to someone who loved me, who I’d built a life with. A life that was mine.”

“Then do that. When this is all finally fucking done, build a life.” 

“I can’t,” you’d shaken your head, eyes blurred from tears. “I wanted to get married. I wanted a job. I wanted kids.” You choke slightly. “I don’t, I can’t be sure any of that is even possible anymore. Not after this.” 

“You can do whatever you want.” A-Train’s voice had been sharp. “Don’t let all these assholes control you, change how you live your life. You can do all that, or none of it, but you do it.” He’d sighed. “Don’t let them make you lose people. Lose happiness. They don’t deserve to have that kind of control over you.” 

“Thank you,” you’d smiled softly, and he’d shrugged. 

“Sure.” 

You’d given a dry laugh. “They really just fuck everything up, don’t they.” 

“Fucking everything,” A-Train had nodded with a small smile that had fallen fast. “I still can’t help you. Not like you asked. My family-“ 

“It’s fine,” you’d met his eyes with a sigh. “I’ll find something else.” 

“You’re serious?” 

“Yeah,” you’d shrugged. “I can move things around, find another way. You can still help.” You’d given him a tight smile. “You can be better. But you should leave the bathroom. They might start looking for us soon.” 

He’d nodded and stood, giving you one last look before leaving. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

The air whooshed, and you were alone on the floor of the bathroom again. 

We could go to Rome, Ben’s voice had hummed around you. When all this shit is over, we can always go to fucking Rome. 

I’d love to go to Rome. You’d smiled into the empty air around you. I’d love anywhere, as long as you were there. 

Because you love me. 

Because I love you. You’d leaned back again, hitting the button above you one last time. Ben, really I love you. It’s kind of stupid how much I love you. 

Are you ever actually going to fucking tell me that? 

Maybe. You’d sighed. Maybe one day in a million years I’ll grow some balls and tell you. 

What would you say? 

It doesn’t matter. 

Shut the fuck up. When you tell me you love me, which you will because you’re not a pussy, what are you going to say. 

Benjamin. 

Don’t Benjamin me, I’m fucking helping. 

You’re not real.

So you can fucking tell me. If I’m not real it won’t goddamn matter. 

The air turned off, and the bathroom had still been empty. 

You’d started to hum. A simple love song, just so you could see his face. Look at him. 

He was so fucking handsome. You'd almost started crying because he was right there, tall and broad and standing in front of you, grinning at you but not real. You couldn’t feel him, not really, because your sensory manipulation didn’t extend to emotion. So you could grab Fake Ben’s hand and feel his warm skin but not him. You couldn’t feel Ben, strong and resolved and everything. But you could smell pine, and feel his hand trace along your jaw. You could grab it and hold it there—let Fake Ben trace circles on your cheek with his thumb—and try to pretend it was real. Pretend it was enough. 

I love you. Your words had to stay in your head, because if you stopped humming to talk aloud Fake Ben would disappear and you needed to keep looking at him. I love you like the ocean loves the moon and the sun loves the stars. I love you like the birds want to sing and the caterpillar longs to be a butterfly. I love you like the grass loves the rain and the lighting loves the thunder. Like the flower loves the bee and the snail loves its shell. I love you like you’re music I get to sing and light I get to eat. I love you like the spiderweb loves the spider and the grave loves the flowers. I love you like a mirror loves to shatter and the alter loves the blood. I love you like the devil loves fire and like god loves the devil. I love you, Ben. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll love you until all the world is scattered across the sky and we’re both trapped in the spaces that remain between. I’ll love you until my voice is gone and my heart is only still beating because you’re holding it. I’ll love you until everything is burning away and it’s just you and me. If they find a way to kill us I’ll love you as a ghost and my skeleton will keep one hand on yours. I love you because all my bones and muscles fit in with your bones and muscles, and because my soul is mine but it’s stronger when it’s yours as well. I love you, Ben. I love you. 

You’d cried. No sobs wracking your body, but small tears you couldn’t hold in. Tears you’d let Fake Ben wipe away before you’d had to let him go, and then wiped again yourself because they were real, and he hadn’t been. And you’d returned to Homelander, smiled through the party in a green velvet dress that didn’t fit and said words you didn’t mean. Let Homelander herd you wherever he wanted and kept your head together. Taken in even breaths of horrible coconut and smiled with no teeth at people with eyes like monsters. Looking at you like you were a prey that they couldn’t have because the apex predator had decided you were his. 

You didn’t throw up that night. You’d stared into the dark, cold air and talked to the phantom of Ben trapped in your head. 

And you’d sat in the fire. Not alight under your skin, but pulsing in a small, warm ember. Awake. Growing. 

By the time you’re sat in the Seven’s meeting room, with all four remaining members and Ashley, it was stronger. Beginning to smoke along your veins. 

“We’ll all be attending the Believe Expo tomorrow,” Sage’s arms are crossed as she glares around the table. “It’s important to appear as a unified front, and this is our primary base. Many non-christian supporters will be in attendance this year, as the association between Homelander and Christianity is becoming interchangeable in the public eye. Which also means we’re leaning away from actual biblical rhetoric, and into our own narrative. We can’t completely disavow the religious aspect, so we’ll have to walk a careful line between not alienating the new people and indoctrinating the old ones. Everyone will get their scripts tonight.” 

The Deep raises his hand, and Sage rolls her eyes but nods for him to speak. 

“Uh, aren’t they going to notice if a,” he frowns at Sage, looking her up and down. “Muslim is leading the Christ Show?” 

“No, because I’m an atheist, dumbass.” Sage snaps. “And I can recite the bible from front to back. All you have to do is show up, do what I tell you, and not say you’re in love with an octopus again. Understood?” 

The Deep looks at Homelander for an order to say yes or no, but Homelander’s not paying attention. He’s staring up at you, standing where he’d told you to. Silently at his side, like a statue he’d collected. When The Deep coughs, Homelander scoffs and waves a hand. 

“Just do whatever the woman fucking tells you to.” 

“Yes, sir.” The Deep nods, and then gives Sage a nervous look. 

Homelander is still staring at you. 

“Sage,” he says slowly. Not looking away. “I want to see her script.” 

“I haven’t written her one,” Sage glares at you. “Anomaly will be on stage for your speech at the end of the program, and you’ll kiss her. That’s her role.” 

Your nails dig into your wrist, both held behind your back. Breathe. You just have to breathe and get through this and not break. One kiss will not break you. One touch will not open the floodgates. You can’t scream or run because you’ll lose. You can breathe now and fall apart later. 

Homelander says your name, and it makes your skin itch. “Is going to give a speech. The people need to care about her, especially with the CIA and Starlight spewing all those fucking lies about her. About us. 

Sage shakes her head. “Homelander-“ 

He turns, shooting her a sharp glare. “I’m not fucking asking. Write her a speech.” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Sage says cooly. “Not after-“ 

“I dealt with that,” Homelander’s voice raises slightly, and Sage falls silent. She doesn’t flinch, but she doesn’t keep pushing either. “I am telling you that you are going to write her a speech. You can either do it yourself, or I’ll have those fucking idiot writers do it for you.” 

Sage’s eyes narrow, but she nods. “Fine.” 

Homelander nods, looking back to you. “Sage?” 

She sighs. “What.” 

“Make it about love.” He smiles at you, and nothing has ever been harder than smiling back. 

The first thing you learn about the Believe Expo—something that until two weeks ago you’d been pretty certain wasn’t a thing anymore—is that it’s loud. Everything is so loud. Homelander flies you there through the cold mist and wind of the morning before telling you to practice your speech and shooting back up into the sky. They’re only setting up—workers dressed in black adjusting lights and testing speakers that ring screeching feedback through the air—and it’s already too much. People are moving everywhere, marking spots on the stage floor and arranging seats and trying to get cloth covers to stay on the tables. You’re lost in how loud it is, and almost get run over by a man carrying a large box that spills out cables as it collides with you. 

“Fuck!” You flinch at his shout, dropping down to help gather the wires scattered across the damp grass as he continues. “Goddamnit girl, we’re already behind schedule, I don’t have the fucking time-“ 

You look up at him to apologize, and he freezes. “I’m-“ 

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, almost pushing you away from the mess. “I’m sorry I yelled, ma’am. I promise there won’t be any delays for the event.” 

You blink at him, rubbing his neck and refusing to meet your eyes, but before you can ask any questions someone taps on your shoulder and says your name. 

“Thank fuck I found you, your trailer is ready.” 

“My trailer?“ You turn to see Ashely, holding a clipboard and tapping her foot. Looking around at the stage work with a tense expression. “Ashley, I don’t-“ 

“I’ll show you where it is. And don’t clean that up, it’s not your job.” 

“But-“ 

“You!” She points her pencil at a woman standing off the side, holding a coffee. “Clean this up, now.” 

“Ma’am, I’m uh, I’m on break-“ 

“I don’t fucking care, clean it! And you-“ Ashley’s glare turns back to you, still crouched on the ground. “Let’s go.” 

She grabs your arms and starts to pull you up, and something wraps around your throat and hands, trying to squeeze all the oxygen out of your body. Everything is sharp, too sharp, moving too fast and yet not fast enough. 

You yank your arm away the moment you’re on your feet, half because you don’t think Ashley remembers you can feel her and half because that was completely unbearable. You follow her off the stage, waiting until you’re out of the crews’ earshot to quicken your pace, walking at her side and speaking in a low voice. 

“You shouldn’t touch me, Ashley.” 

“What?” She shoots you a quick glare. “Don’t be dramatic, I was just helping you stand up-“ 

“You touched me. Your hand touched my arm. I felt you.” 

“So? It’s not like I-“

“Ashley.” You stop walking and wait for her to turn around. “I felt you.” 

“What the fuck are-“ Her angry expression falls, her face goes pale “Oh, I, I forgot, fuck-“ 

“It’s fine,” you say quickly. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. You just, uh, you shouldn’t touch me.” 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m- shit! I-“ 

“I’m not mad,” you frown at her. “I’m just reminding you. Don’t touch me unless you’re okay with me feeling it.” 

She nods tightly, hands pulling at her hair, and swallows before speaking. “Don’t tell Homelander I touched you. He doesn’t want us to touch you.” 

You feel the cold bloom inside you again, but manage to push it down. Give Ashley a tight nod. “I won’t.” 

“Can we go to the trailer now?” She looks down at the clipboard. “Fuck, we were supposed to be at the trailer five minutes ago-“ 

“Where is it?” 

“Just over there, but-“ 

“I can find it.” You start to walk away, in the general direction Ashley had pointed, but she calls your name and you stop. “What-“ 

“We’re not supposed to leave you on your own.” She’s tugging at her hair still, looking between you and the clipboard. “I technically should’ve been there when Homelander dropped you off-“ 

“I’m not going to run away, Ashely.” You sigh. “Please, just go do whatever you need to.” 

She looks like she might protest for a second, but looks back at the clipboard and gives a tight nod. “Okay. Go.“ 

“Great.” You start to turn again, but Ashley calls your name again. 

“What-“ 

“Um, thanks.” She mutters, gives you a tense smile. “And please, don’t try to fucking escape-“

“I won’t. I can’t.” You turn, and finally manage to get away before Ashley can see the anguish on your face. 

You could escape, Sunshine. Ben’s voice carries on the wind. Or I could come fucking get you. 

We’ve had this conversation. You can’t come get me, they’ll put you back under. 

I don’t give a shit. You should be home. With me. 

I know, but I can’t. Not yet. 

You fucking should, though. This is some insane, cum guzzling bullshit. And you are not fucking kissing Homelander. 

I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, Benjamin. 

Not for me, brat. Because he’s a fucking pussy who shouldn’t be allowed within a million miles of you. 

You have to stop your internal fight with Ben’s voice, because you reach the trailer and are immediately surrounded by people doing your hair and makeup, shoving Sage’s script into your hands for you to memorize. There will be a teleprompter, because Sage isn’t an idiot who thinks the Deep will remember anything for more than fifteen minutes—let alone a whole script from the time he’s in his trailer to four hours later when he’s on stage—but you still want to read it. To know what’s coming. 

It’s what you expected in its entirety. A lot of propaganda. A lot of lies. A lot of anecdotes that never happened and some musings about love that sound like a sociopath wrote them. I love Homelander because he completes me. I see us in every great romance in history. He is the thing that gets me up in the morning. 

You can hear the crowd outside now. People start to filter into the venue, more and more in larger and larger waves until the trailer feels as if it’s shaking. 

But you manage to keep it together. To keep reading as your finger taps on the chair and a blonde woman you’ve never seen before—and will likely never see again—pins your hair tight against your head and applies chemicals that would probably burn your scalp if you didn’t heal in that same second. 

I want to start a family with him. Lead the best life we can together. 

You put the script down, and once your hair and makeup team is gone you scramble to the trash can and empty the bile of your stomach until you can breathe. 

You just have to get through this. You just have to keep moving. 

They’d put you back in the supe costume. It’s better fitted than last time, but still just hideous. Uncomfortable and impractical and ugly. It feels wrong on your body, not just because it’s showing too much skin and the lace is scratching at your skin but because it’s not you. Supe costumes in general are dumb, because it’s not an outfit on a person, it’s a label on a product. Ben’s lucky he has a stupid handsome face that makes him attractive in everything or you’d have made fun of him ruthlessly about his own. 

You still fucking did that. You said I looked like a Christmas tree that’s been sent to war on the draft. 

And I’ve have said more if I didn’t want to climb that tree and let it fuck me. 

You called me an R rated G.I. Joe Doll. 

You are an R rate G.I. Joe Doll, Pretty Boy. I was being accurate and poetic. 

Brat. 

Cunt. 

You take a long breath, and grab the script again. Just get through this. You’ll break later, but right now you have to get through this. 

I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story to be remembered as one from a fairytale. Because he is my prince, my white knight who saved me from the dark. Homelander you’re my soulmate- 

Soulmate my fucking blue balls. Ben’s voice mutters in your head, and you can almost see his scowl. The pussy doesn’t even like you. 

Soulmates aren’t real, Ben. 

Still, you’re not his damn soulmate. 

Well, I’m not yours. Or anyones. Because soulmates aren’t real. 

But you love me. 

I do. That doesn’t mean we’re soulmates. You don’t even love me, Benjamin. Something hurts deep, deep inside you and against your skull. I think soulmates, if they were real, which they aren’t, are both supposed to love each other. 

Inside your chest, something pounds and beats against your lungs and ribs. Something powerful and bloody and desperate. The slight blur of the world vanishes—you hadn’t even noticed it before—and everything is clear and warm and angry. 

Why are you so fucking sure I don’t love you? 

What? 

You keep telling me I don’t love you. What makes you so damn positive? 

You don’t. 

I do. 

You blink into the empty trailer. No, you don’t. 

I fucking do. The thing inside you rages, and you’re not sure if it’s yours or not. You’re not touching anybody, and it doesn’t feel foreign or out of place inside you. But you’ve never felt something like this. It’s focused and pious and entirely made of something monstrous that you can’t name. It’s not dangerous, nothing about it feels dangerous—it reminds you of Ben, and he’d never hurt you—but it’s still the most intensely starved and insatiable feeling you’ve ever experienced. 

No, even in your head your voice is slow and confused. You don’t. 

You’re not the fucking boss of me.

I am literally the fucking boss of you. I am the government-appointed boss of you. 

I think they stripped that title from you when they realized we didn’t exactly have an appropriate boss-employee relationship, Sunshine. 

Fuck you. 

You did, that was the problem. 

You watch too much porn, Pretty Boy. I’m not a boss fucking her secretary and causing a scandal. 

I wasn’t your fucking secretary. 

Good thing, too. You’d have been terrible at it. I’d have asked you to check my calendar and you’d have destroyed the computer. 

You wouldn’t have been too mad about it. I’d have fucked your brains out on the desk and you’d have forgiven me. 

I would not have forgiven you. Computers are expensive. 

Then I’d buy you a damn new one, then fucked your brains out. And then you’d have forgiven me. Because I’d have told you I love you, and you’d have cum all over my cock, and you’d forgive me. 

You think your heart stops for a second, restarting with the jolt of that strange feeling in your chest. In your head your voice is breathless. Ben, please stop saying that. 

No. 

You don’t love me- 

I fucking do. 

No, you don’t. This feels like a strange hill for you to die on, convincing the phantom voice in your head of the man you love that he doesn’t love you back. But you press on. Stop saying that you do. It’s mean. 

Why the hell is it mean. Saying that I love you is the opposite of damn mean- 

Because I really, really, love you! And it’s mean to lie to me and try and convince me that Real Ben might love me! 

The thing roars inside you. What- 

The door to the trailer opens, and Ashley walks in without warning, eyes glued to her phone. The thing in you flares, and then it’s gone. 

“You’re on,” she looks up, giving you a once over before her eyes land on the abandoned script at your feet. “Did you read it?” 

You kind of read it. You didn’t finish it, but you’ve got the gist, so you nod. 

“Good,” Ashley looks back to her phone. “Are you ready?” 

You nod again, pulling yourself up from the floor, and are about to walk out the door when Ashley holds out an arm to block your path. You almost run into it, and you both flinch back, Ashley nearly dropping her phone. 

“You need to wear your disguise,” she says quickly, pulling her arms back. “People will swarm you.” 

The prep-team had left you a large hoodie with Homelander’s smiling face printed across it, a Vought baseball cap, and black sunglasses. You glance in the mirror after you change, and you look like an idiot. You feel like an idiot. If this all wasn’t so dangerous and precarious, it would be plain stupid. 

But, because the universe is strange and uncaring, this is incredibly important. You have to wear Homelander’s face on your body, because you can’t protest or it will blow everything. You have to wear a stupid baseball cap—which is going to ruin your stupid hair—because people can’t see your face. It’s the same reason you put on the sunglasses that pinch your nose, and make yourself follow Ashley out into the densely packed crowd. You don’t have another choice. 

There are too many people. The first thing you realize is that there are far too many people, and you’re going through them. They’re bumping your arms and legs, brushing against your skin in accidental passing, and it’s going to make you explode. Everything is too bright and loud and everything is like a live wire. Everyone is so excited, and all you’re getting is fleeting passes of their overzealous, stabbing feelings before being plunged right back into your own cold fear. Spreading faster, not fully overtaking the fire but making it grow dim. Pushing it further away. 

By the time you’re dropped off in a small tent—A-Train and the Deep playing cards at a fold-out table, Sage and Homelander nowhere to be found—your blood is rushing through your body and ramming against your throat and ears. Trying to escape your body. You almost immediately collapse into a chair, trying to take long breaths and think about happy things. 

Music. The music playing over the loudspeakers is deafening. Off-rhythm gospel music that’s like nails digging into your brain. 

City lights. There isn’t any life or joy in the light around you. The sun is behind the clouds, and the flood lights are hidden in a mist that makes the whole world just gray. 

Ben. Ben isn’t here. With you. And all you can do is miss him. 

Something claws at your heart, but you can’t spare the time or energy to feel it. It’s loud and tight, almost impossible to ignore, but you manage to just close your eyes and try to find something happy. Try to make something happy. A-Train and the Deep are fighting in the background. It’s so loud, and you’re growing cold again. You can’t see anything but the gray, can’t feel anything but a metal chair below you and the fog around you, and can’t hear anything that’s not angry or frantic. 

Fresh air. The air is fresh and smells like rain. You haven’t smelled fresh air in months, and it’s all just clean and easy. Sharp and bright in your lungs, made of the wetlands around you. Mud and pine and grass, stronger than the cold sweat of the crowd. Fresh air. 

You take one last, long, deep breath. You’re not at peace, but this isn’t about peace. It’s about the world being in focus, and being able to just keep going. 

“Hey,” The Deep says your name, and you just stare at him. “We haven’t really talked yet. I’m Deep.” 

You nod. “I know.” 

“Right, of course you do. I mean, you can call me Kevin-“ He extends his hand for you to shake, and A-Train whacks it back. “Bro-“ 

“We’re not supposed to touch her, dumbass.” A-Train’s not looking at you. He hasn’t looked at you since you sat down. “And she’s not going to call you Kevin. Fucking nobody calls you Kevin.” 

“My friends all call me Kevin,” the Deep looks back to you with a wide, white-toothed smile. “I mean, me and Homelander are real tight-“ 

“No, you’re not.” 

“He likes me more-“ 

“Homelander doesn’t give a shit about you,” A-Train rolls his eyes. “It’s your turn. Play or give up.” 

The Deep gives you one last look like he’s going to say something, but turns back around to their game. 

It’s another ten or so minutes before Ashley returns—this time with both the clipboard and her phone—and you have to move. Interviews. Photo ops. Saying all the right words in the right tone with the right body language for the microphones and cameras. 

It’s so loud. The walk—even through a barricaded area—is full of screaming people leaning over metal blockades and the bass of the music, running into your bones. Ashley is recapping Sage’s talking points—The Deep isn’t allowed to talk about marine animals, A-Train needs to talk about gospel and unity, and you shouldn’t speak at all—As the Deep shakes his body out, practicing his smile and introduction and A-Train still doesn’t look at you. 

The powerful thing returns, as you’re back in the open. It’s still violent and alert, strange but not out of place, and it feels like Ben. It’s just Ben, indescribably Ben. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was him, because you know him. You know all of him, all his anger and care and vengeful warmth. You know how he is, how his heart pounds and his will moves everything around him, how everything in him is strong like this is. 

It fades when you're pulled into another tent. Not fully dying out, but growing dull. Far away. 

You’re sat next to A-Train—who just stares ahead into the air and lets them start to mic him—with a reminder not to talk. If you’re asked questions, Sage will answer them for you. You just have to sit there, be pretty, and smile. No matter what happens, what’s being said around you, keep smiling. 

Sage doesn’t show up. There’s a seat saved for her, with her name taped to it and water bottle under it, but she never arrives and Ashley makes everyone keep going. A well dressed woman sits across from you, the cameras turn on, the show begins.

Smile. Don’t talk and smile. Ashley reminds every journalist to greet you and look at you casually but never actually speak to you. They just give you a few smiles and glances, and only two or three actually meet your eyes. Most end up going through the motions and trying to pretend you’re not there. 

You don’t blame them. You’re doing the same. For what feels like eternity you’re sat in a chair—just another prop to the set—and as your face starts to hurt from smiling you stop paying attention. You put energy into trying to find the source of the odd feeling still making a home in your chest, but it’s stubborn. You try and pull it up to the surface and it doesn’t budge, you try and poke it and it just hums. 

It’s exactly like Ben. 

After all I fucking do for you. 

His voice is back. It always comes back. It doesn’t make the thing in you rear and push like it had before, but it’s still everywhere. Humming lowly in the mic feedback and where your foot is tapping the floor. 

Go away. I’m busy. 

His laugh haunts the spaces of silence between the voices around you. I’m not fucking real, Sunshine. I can’t go away. I’m a part of you. 

You’re an annoying part of me. Piss off, Pretty Boy. I’m trying to figure something out. 

Figure what out? 

Shut up. 

Fuck me backwards for trying to help you. 

This isn’t something you can help with, Ben. 

Try me. 

Fine, you try not to sigh aloud. I can feel something. Something I’m not sure I should be feeling. 

What, like horny? Are you horny? Do you miss me and you’re horny? 

No, you fucking dumb dumb. Like an emotion that I can’t understand. 

Well I can’t fucking help with that shit. 

I know. That’s why I told you to go away. 

Whatever. You love me. 

I do. 

The thing responds to that. It roars and starts to claw up your spine, grabbing your heart with firm but gentle hands and trying to pull it around in your body. 

What the fucking shit was that? 

I don’t know. Shut up, I need to test something. Ben, I love you. 

It’s going to kill you. This strange thing inside you is going to rip you to shreds, but before you can test anything further, the interviews are at an end and Ashley is ushering everyone away, dragging you around the venue to take photos. You’re handed countless crosses and bibles to hold up for the camera to see, as if people might not have been previously aware of them. The Deep and A-Train shake hands and pose with fans, you’re put in front of lambs and goats and a very unsettling marble statue of Homelander that’s still somehow warmer than the real one. 

The thing is still there. It keeps growing and waning and spreading and pulling back. As you move through the convention it grows wrathful and deafening, and you can’t figure out what it is. It’s not you. You’re certain it’s not you. You’d been pretty sure before, but now you’re certain. It doesn’t feel wrong, it doesn’t feel out of place, but it’s not you. You’re not consuming like this, you’re not… Parasitic is the wrong word, you decide, because it’s inherently negative. Nothing about this thing is negative. It’s big and demanding and so loud, but it’s almost comfortable. Full of want and content and focused attention. Made of something rough that’s been dedicated to whatever feeds it.  

You just can’t figure out what it wants. It’s hungry, it’s full of such a familiar, Ben-like hunger, but nothing seems to satisfy it. You repeat the words, Ben. Ben, I love you, several times, and it always takes them, but it never grows fully quiet. If anything it’s like offering it salt-water. It pours it down deep, and then grows more demanding. 

If you had more time you’d find somewhere quiet to figure out what the hell is going on. But the sun is starting to fall down, and Ashley is herding you to the backstage area. Ranting about speeches and last minute adjustments and don’t fuck up and- 

It’s just a flash. You only see it for a second, moving beyond the barricade through the crowd, but you still see it. 

Black hair. Long, wavy black hair attached to a short woman. 

Lots of people have black hair. You’ve seen at least twenty women with black hair in the past three hours alone. But you still stop in your path and crane your neck up. Trying to see over the crowd, deeper into the fray. 

You see the hair again. And, this time, the side-profile of the woman it’s attached to. Hooded eyes with eyeliner and a focused determination on her face. 

“Holy shit.” 

Your whisper is only heard by the Deep, who turns to you with a frown. “I thought Sage told us not to swear-“ 

“Ashley!” Your voice is almost a shriek, loud and frantic. “I need to go to the bathroom now!” 

“Hold it,” Ashley says your name without looking up from her phone, continuing to move towards the stage. “We’re on a really fucking tight schedule.” 

“Ashley!” You move to grab her, stop her, make her listen and she flinches back with wide eyes. 

“I-“ 

“I got my period,” you say bluntly. “And, uh, I’m wearing a skirt-“ 

She sigh. “Fine, but be fast-“ 

“I will! Super fast!” You run ahead, into the porta potties dropped near all the stage equipment for the crew. They smell awful, and you probably should’ve chosen a spot that’s meant to hold more than one person, but you’re here now. Now is not the time to second guess anything. 

You wait, just long enough that you start to wonder if A-Train hadn’t heard you or didn’t understand, and wasn’t coming. 

Then the air whooshes, and he’s crammed next to you as the door slams. “What the fuck was that about-“ 

“They’re here,” you don’t wait for him to fully gain his footing in the small space before you speak, and ignore his rush of stress and annoyance when your bodies brush. There’s not enough time. “They’re all here.” 

“Wh-“ 

“Butcher,” you hiss. “MM and Frenchie and Kimiko. Probably Hughie, probably not Annie.” And Ben. Ben is here. 

“Are you sure-“ 

“Yes.” 

“Well, why the fuck are they here-“ 

“I don’t know!” 

“Would you stop fucking interrupting-” 

“No!” You’re running your hand over your face, trying to make your brain move faster. To do something productive, and stop just chanting Ben. Ben, I love you. Ben, you’re here and I can see you and touch you and I love you, Ben, I love you- “I need to think.” 

“Think?” A-Train glares at you. “We need to fucking run, those idiot are always blowing everything-“ 

“Shut up,” you snap. “This is a chance. They’re here for a reason. They’re probably planning something-“ 

“Something stupid-“ 

“Shut up!” You’re almost shouting. There’s no time for this, you need to figure out what they’re doing here and adjust, you need to find out how to keep Homelander and Sage—wherever the hell they are—away from them, you need to see Ben. You need to find Ben, now. A-Train is still glaring at you, and your fire isn’t strong enough yet—not here, where the cold is crawling through you once more—so you need a plan. 

You look A-Train up and down, he’s trying to pace in a space where you’re both pressed against the wall to not touch each other, and you’ve got it. 

“You’re leaving.” 

A-Train freezes, frowning at you. “What?” 

“You’re going to go with them. When they leave, you’re going to go with them,” you nod to yourself as you speak. “You’re done with the Seven, you’re going with them.” 

“Are you crazy?! Or stupid?!” A-Train gapes at you. “I have a tracker, they might not even take me, and my family will still be in danger-“ 

“I’ll burn out your tracker, they will take you, and…” You trail, trying to find your way around A-Train’s family. He’s right, Vought knows who they are. They won’t just let him go quietly and bloodlessly, not when he’d be turning to their enemy. But this has to work- 

“If you can’t tell me how my family will be fine, there’s not a chance in hell-“ 

“You’ll die.” 

“What?!” 

“You’re going to die,” you say the words firmly. No room for error, no room for wavering. “They’re going to ‘kill you’,” you make exaggerated air quotes. “And you’re going to ‘die’.” 

A-Train frowns at your hands. “What are those, what are you talking about-“ 

“You’re not really going to die,” you snap. No time. “We’re going to fake your death. They’ll make it look like they killed you and everybody wins.” 

“How does everybody win there?” A-Train’s rolling on the balls of his feet, still glowering at you. “They’ll just twist it, Starlighters are murderers-“ 

“Exactly,” you have an almost maniacal grin on your face. “But the Seven will just have lost its second member in as many weeks. Not a great look for the whole supe supremacy narrative if their best and brightest are dropping like flies. It’s bad for everybody, and that’s why everyone wins.” 

A-Train shakes his head. “What about my family? How do they win?” 

“If you’re dead, if we do this right and Sage doesn’t suspect a thing, then they’ll be honored for your service and left in peace. But we have to do this right.” 

“I don’t-“ 

“A-Train,” you hiss. “This is the something. This is the better, and this is what I’m asking of you. You’re going to leave with them, you’re going to help them. You don’t have to like it, but this is it.” 

“How will I be able to help,” he protests, still pushing and there’s no time. “I mean, if I’m fucking ‘dead’-” 

“You have insider knowledge of the tower. You have insider knowledge of Vought, and Homelander, and Sage. You can help them, you just have to go.” 

“What about you?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“You’re not going to leave? Run away with them into the sunset?” 

You can hear the words A-Train won’t say. You can see them on his face and hear them echo in your head. Leave with Ben. Run away with Ben and be safe and let him care for you until this is just another nightmare. 

“I mean, you can’t just keep-“ 

“I’m going to stay.” You mutter, hating the words on your tongue. They taste bitter and foul, like sour coconut. “I have to stay.” 

“That’s-“ 

“Not up for debate.” You cross your arms, holding A-Train’s glare. “I have to see this through. They’re here for a reason, and once I know what, I can work it into my plan.” 

“You’re still doing a plan?” You don’t love the disbelief in A-Train’s voice. “There’s no fucking way you can keep this up-“ 

“I don’t have to keep it up.” You snap. “I just have to get through it. I’m staying, you’re going, that’s that.” 

A-Train pauses, and you can almost hear his brain trying to find a way to disagree. But you’ve done this well, and he lets out a long, heavy, angry sigh. “What do you need me to do.” 

“Thank you,” you give him a half-smile. “I’m going to find them. I’ll tell Ashley I just need to sit down, because I’m getting cramps or something, and I’ll go find them.” Find Ben. “Find out what they’re doing, why they’re here. I need you to find Ezekiel.” 

“Ezekiel?” A-Train frowns. “I haven’t seen that guy all day-“ 

“He’s here. This is his event, he’s on the program. You’re going to find him, and trick him into walking into them.” 

“Trick him? How am I-“ 

“Tell him they’re here. Tell him they’re looking for new members of the Seven and killing Butcher is a surefire way to get a foot in the door. Tell him Hughie’s here, he hates Hughie. Just get him to fight them. Preferably away from the crowd, but not until Homelander’s speech.” Your fingers are tapping against your arm, making changes to the plan as you speak. “Ezekiel can’t just go alone, he’ll mess up the plan, so you have to make him wait. After you talk to him, say you’re going to find where they are, so you can fight them together, and come find me. I’ll burn out your tracker, you’ll bring Ezekiel to fight them, make it loud, and ‘die’. My team will take care of getting you out, hopefully they’ll kill Ezekiel on the way, and I’ll know what I need to do on my end.” 

“For your plan.” 

“For my plan.” 

A-Train shakes his head. “Are you going to tell me your plan?” 

“No. All you have to do is die.” 

“Fuck.” He takes off his visors, meeting your eyes fully. “You think this will work?” 

No room for error, no room for doubt. “It has to.” 

He nods slowly. “Where am I going to find you?” 

Wherever Ben is. “You might have to look. I’m not sure yet.” 

“You’ll burn out my tracker?” 

“As soon as you find me.” 

“And my family-“ 

“Will be fine.” You give him a close-lipped, tight smile. “Promise. Just find Ezekiel.” 

“Fine.” A-Train put his visors back on. “See you on the other side.” 

He’s gone in a rush of wind, and you’re alone in the porta potty. Just you, the horrible smell of shit, and that thing in your chest. 

Ben. It is him. He’s here, and you can feel him. It’s something you’ll have to retcon later, why you can feel him, what this feeling actually is, but right now Ben is here. And you have to find him. 

You find Ashley first, and tell her you’re throwing up from period cramps in quick, blunt words. 

“Can’t you just hold it?” She begs, and you give her a flat look. 

“Ashley, do you think Sage will be angrier if I rest in the bathroom but do my speech without a hitch, or if I throw up on live TV?”

She shakes her head, running her hands through her hair. “Fuck! First A-Train’s fucking gone, now you-“ 

“He was freaking out about something,” you shrug. “Wouldn’t tell me what, but I think he’s just calming down.” You make a fake retching sound, and Ashley’s face twists. “Can I please-“ 

“Just go!” 

“Thank you!” You make yourself double over slightly, make your words strained. “I’ll be back-“ 

“I don’t fucking care, just be fast!” 

Ashley turns away, and you’re gone. Find Ben. You have to find Ben. This place is massive, and you can’t just push your way through the crowd—not again, not if you want to keep going—but nothing is more important right now than finding Ben. 

Where would you be, you fucking ass. Where would Ben be at the Believe Expo. 

He’d hate all of this. He’d hate the abstinence only sex education—the fuck do they have against a good time—he’d hate the pandering and holier-than-thou attitudes—these pussies aren’t better than me just because they read a goddamn book—and he’d despise all the morality. All the haughty faces and watered-down language and fake smiles. He’d hate all of this, there wouldn’t be a corner of it he’d enjoy, so you have no fucking clue where you’ll find him. 

You can’t just wander and hope you run into him. You don’t have the time to spare just trying to bump into him. But you need to find him. He’s here and you have to see him. Half because of your plan with A-Train, half because you fucking miss him. You miss him so much, and he’s here, and you can’t just not see him. Not touch him. He’s here and you need him and you love him- 

That thing in your chest rolls around. It’s pulling you forward, and you don’t think twice before you let it. And you know. You know where he’d be. You’d find him anywhere, and you know where he’d be. 

Taking a piss. In the VIP bathrooms, because he has no regard or respect for venue restrictions. He’d need to go to the bathroom, and would not care to use the dogshit porta potties—especially not with his sense of smell being so strong—so he’d just walk right into the VIP bathrooms. No one would stop him, because he’s Ben and he looks right everywhere. Even if he’s in disguise, he still walks and talks like there’s not a place in the world he doesn’t belong. 

There are two VIP bathroom trailers. One is near the trailers, and one is across the venue. You should check both, but he’s in the further one. You just know, he’s in the further one. He’d have been staying on the outskirts of the event, and would be in the further one. So you take a long, grounding breath, steal a black Believe Expo Staff hoodie and cap, and move. Trying to run without people noticing, because there’s no time to just walk. He’s there, you know he’s there, so you have to go. 

Of the three bathrooms in the trailer, two are locked. And one is Ben. There’s no way to explain how you know, but one is Ben. It’s the center one, and he’s in there, and you have to wait. 

You can’t wait out in the open. If a staff member sees you they’ll either make you go “back to work” or recognize you and tell Ashley or Sage that you’re here. So you look around, make sure no one’s watching, and rush into the spare, empty bathroom. Lean against the counter and wait. 

Ben. Ben is here. He’s one door down and now you have to just be patient. You’ll see him soon. 

It’s the longest four minutes of your life. You hate this stupid, amazing man, taking impossibly long pisses and making you love him and not just leaving the bathroom. He must not feel you here, not like you can feel him, because he’d be breaking the door down. 

That’s another thing to be confused about later. How this thing works. Right now the trailer is rumbling slightly, because someone just flushed a toilet, and you can just hear a door opening and closing over the noise of the crowd.

Ben. 

You open your door, and there he is. He’s turned away from you, and wearing a baseball cap that covers his hair, but it’s him. You’d be able to recognize him blind and underwater, and that’s Ben. Tall and broad and walking in rough steps with his hands fisted at his side. Away from you. 

“Ben,” you hiss his name, but he doesn’t turn around. “Benjamin.” 

His steps stutter, but he keeps moving. Getting further and further away. 

“Ben!” Your words are still said in a hushed voice, through your teeth, but you’re almost shouting. “I know you can fucking hear me, you cunt.” 

He stops, but still doesn’t turn. Hands curling tighter, knuckles becoming white. 

“Benjamin, if you don’t turn around right fucking now-“ 

You see his body heave from a sigh, hear a low and frustrated sound, and he turns around with a scowl. 

He’s so fucking handsome. His face is tired and angry, half obscured by his hat, but he’s still everything. And when he sees you, glaring at him with all the anger you can muster when he’s right there, his mouth falls open and that strange feeling—his feeling—roars. 

The shock across his features doesn’t even last a second before he’s moving. Sprinting across the grass with no regard for secrecy or not drawing attention. Sprinting to you. He’s here. 

You don’t have time to take a step back before he’s crashing into you, picking you up and slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t kiss you. You’d thought he’d kiss you, but he just raises you off the ground in the most bone-crushing hug you’ve ever experienced. And you can feel him. You can feel the warmth of his body, the care with which he’s touching you—hands roaming you like he’s not sure you’re real and is trying to check—and the strength of him. Really him. Here and touching you and smelling like pine and gunpowder and full of desperation. He’s so tired—you can feel it in your bones—and he’s trying to pull you closer and closer into him, in a way that would be painful if it wasn’t him. If he wasn’t still holding you like you were holy, like you were just a cloud that might dissipate in his hands if he didn’t stop it with firm hands and adoring touches. 

“You’re real,” his voice is soft and hoarse in your ear, and something in you breaks. He sounds exhausted. “You’re fucking real.” 

“Ben-“ 

He kisses you then. Drops one hand below your thighs and hauls you further up his body, swallowing your words. Swallowing you. It’s just you and Ben, and he’s here. He’s real and touching you like he always has and, just for now, you’re safe. You’re safe in his arms, keeping you steadily off the ground, and getting drunk on him. On his hands kneading your skin and cupping your face, on his mouth against yours. Hungry, always hungry, pushing into you brutally. Trying to take all your breath and give you his. Tongue tracing your teeth and pushing down your throat, sucking and biting your lips and groaning into your open mouth. You take it all. Your hands grab at his hair, push his cap to the floor so you can touch him, and lean as far into him as you can without being him. He’s here. He’s here and you love him and he’s everything. You’re letting him consume you, touch you as much as he wants, because you missed him. Because he’s real, and anything he can give you is enough. If he tries to take your heart, reach into your chest and rip it out, you’ll do it for him and feed it to him. If he bites your neck you hope it will, for once, leave a mark. If he gives you any part of him, you’ll dig a hole in your body and keep it there. Anything to feel him forever, anything to never stop feeling this. Feeling Ben. 

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because you can feel the pounding of his heart under your hands. Only because he’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern, and you’re doing the same. You feel a little dizzy, but you want to keep going. You want to touch him until you pass out and he can take him home. Or to Rome, or Hawaii, or fucking Ohio or Texas or California or anywhere where he’s there and you’re together. Where you can feel like this forever, and it’s just you and Ben. Happy. Where he can always set you down this carefully against the counter, and keep his forehead pressed to yours as you both just hold each other. Where you can close your eyes and fall into him and always trust he’ll catch you. 

He mumbles your name, lips brushing yours as he speaks, and you can’t stop the small sound leaving your throat. A strangled noise of Ben. Ben, I love you. I missed you and I love you and I’m sorry. 

You’re crying. You don’t even realize it until you feel his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away, and that makes you cry more. 

“Ben,” you’re whispering. You don’t trust your voice to do anything else. “You’re here.” 

“I’m here.” He mutters. “You’re real.” 

You huff a soft, weak laugh. “I’m real.” 

He nods against you, and when you open your eyes he’s still there. Watching you, always watching you. Looking at you so reverently, and that thing is stronger than you’d ever felt it when he’s touching you. He’s wrapping around you, he’s everywhere around you, full of care and affection and something small and bright that’s resting at the base of his throat. His whole body relaxed and washed with relief. You love him. You love him so much. 

“Hi,” you smile at him, and it’s real. It’s sad and you’re still crying, but Ben is here and nothing can stop you from smiling at him. Just for now, just in this moment, you can smile at Ben and get to mean it. “Can you kiss me again?” 

Ben chuckles, and it’s a sound from deep in his body that moves into yours. He does as you ask, and this time he’s gentle. Not pushing for more, just kissing you until you sigh and hum against his mouth. Letting both of you just savor it, sit in the feeling of comfort and each other. 

When Ben pulls back he draws up slightly, studying your face, tracing it under one hand as the other holds you at your waist. “Are you-“ 

“I’m okay.” 

He doesn’t believe you. Ben frowns and his eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t believe you. He trusts you, you can feel it, but you can also feel that concrete resolve around you both and you know that Ben isn’t going to just drop it. 

“Don’t-“ 

“I’m not lying,” you move your hands up from his chest, resting them on his shoulders. “I’m okay.” 

“I don’t think you’re lying,” he mutters, scanning over your body. “I know you think you’re okay. You always think you’re okay.” 

You blink at him. “What?” 

“You always say you’re okay, and you’re not.” Your eyes meet again, and there’s something painful in Ben’s. You can feel that pain in his body, but when it reaches his eyes it’s somehow worse. It makes him look sad. “You always fucking think you’re fine, and you believe it, but you’re goddamn not.” 

“I-“ 

“Just,” he sighs, squeezing your hips and running a thumb over your cheekbone. “Tell me the truth. Not what you think is the fucking truth, the factual truth. Are you okay?” 

You don’t answer. You try to answer, but words choke in your throat and suddenly you’re crying. Not soft tears like before, full sobs that shake your body and make you fall into Ben’s chest. He catches you, holds you against him until you can breathe again. He lets you wrap your arms around his torso and traces familiar patterns on your skin, resting his chin on your head and humming so fucking terribly. So off-key and out of tune you almost don’t recognize the song. 

When you do, you pull back and frown at him, blinking away your tears. “Rainbow Connection?” 

“Shut up.” 

“When did you-“ 

“Don’t fucking change the topic.“

“Ben,” you move one hand up to rest against his chest, and he holds it. Pulls it up to his mouth and kisses your palm, and your heart flutters through all its sore fatigue. “I’m okay. I’m really okay. I’m exhausted, but I’m okay.” 

“Homelander-“ 

“Hasn’t touched me,” you whisper. “Not like that.” 

Ben doesn’t stop glaring at you. “Swear it.” 

“Promise. No lies.” You smile at him again. “Would be a weird fucking thing to lie about anyway.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

You’re wasting time. You have so little time to find out what the Boys are doing here, why they’ve decided being here is worth such a massive risk, but when Ben kisses you again you don’t really care. It’s just him, big and warm and safe. 

Real. 

When he leans back, you’re not crying anymore. You think you’ve just tired yourself out, or that your body knows there will be time to cry later. Right now Ben is here, and that’s all that matters. 

“Are we going to talk about Rainbow Connection?” You smile at him because you can. As long as Ben is here, you’ll always smile at him. “Did you watch the Muppets again?” 

Something flashes under his skin. Sore and hot, embarrassment. That’s his embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“You did-“ 

He kisses you again. He won’t stop kissing you, and you’ve never been less annoyed about anything in your life. Today he’s allowed to kiss you to shut you up. Anything that keeps him here longer, anything you can take and hold in the weeks to come. 

Anything that makes you more certain he’s real. That this isn’t a cruel trick of your brain, and any second you’re going to wake up in a cold room that smells like coconut with Homelander across the mattress. 

But he is. Ben is here and real and you can feel it. A dream wouldn’t feel powerful like this, wouldn’t have all the protection of Ben running through your body, wouldn’t have this strange feeling of something pushing from Ben into you when he holds you. 

“You can gloat about it later,” he grunts against you, before standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “We need to fucking go.” 

You sigh. You’d known this was coming, and you’re honestly surprised it took this long. “We’re not going anywhere, Ben.” 

“The goddamn fucking hell we’re not-“ 

“I have to stay here.” Your voice isn’t loud, or firm. It’s soft and shaking and tired, because you’re exhausted. Because every ounce of will and strength in your body is being used for this. For telling Ben you can’t just go, that he has to leave you here and you’re both going to have to find a way to live with that. “You know I have to stay here.” 

“You don’t have to do a single fucking thing but go,” he’s not yelling. His voice is rising and his words are sharp but he’s not yelling. “You’re not safe here, we need to fucking go-“ 

“I can’t.” You reach up, holding his face between your hands and trying not to shatter when he raises his own to keep you there. “I can’t go, not until I see this through.”  

“Yes, you can! You fucking can!” His voice is loud, but Ben’s still not yelling. You’ve heard him yell, and it’s commanding. Ben’s yell demands attention, demands compliance. This is angry and loud but he’s pleading, and it’s worse. He knows you’re not leaving with him, deep down, so Ben is begging you to change your mind. It’s making you hurt, making all your bones and organs shutter and snap, and it’s horrible. All of this is horrible. “All you fucking have to do is go-“ 

“Ben-“ 

“You’re not fucking safe, I’m not going to goddamn leave you-“ 

“You’re not leaving me,” you smile at him, and your heart is starting to fold in on itself. “This isn’t leaving me.” 

“Yes, it fucking is-“ 

“I’m telling you you’re going to have to go without me. Not now,” your words become quick, slightly panicked, because if Ben leaves now you’ll collapse and not get back up. “But when it’s time. When you go, you’re going without me.” 

“I’ll pick you up and fucking carry you out,” he snaps, and you sigh. 

“I’ll scream.” 

“Then I’ll fucking cover your mouth.” 

“I’ll bite your hand.” 

“And I won’t goddamn feel it.” 

“Then I’ll take off your stupid hat and people will see you.” You shake your head, and try to be a little more numb. Try to pretend this isn’t killing you, that you can’t feel it killing him. “I want to come home Ben, I really want to. But I can’t. You know that.” 

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m letting you stay here-“ 

“Ben,” you whisper. “You don’t let me do anything. I’m staying here, but you’re not leaving me.” 

“I fucking am,” he’s furious, you can feel it coursing through you, but it’s like poison. It’s raging and turning every part of Ben against himself, making your heart start to wither for him. For how he’s doing this to himself. “If I fucking go without you, I’ll be fucking failing you again. I’m not fucking failing you again-“ 

“Benjamin-“ 

“I’m not! I’m never failing you again, I’m never leaving you again, I’m never fucking losing you again-“ 

You pull his head down, and he freezes. Ben lets you hold his head against your shoulder, and when you start to run a hand through his hair he falls onto you. Just holds you like you’re going to try and escape, buries his face in your neck like he can climb in you and stay there. 

“I can’t fucking lose you again,” he mumbles your name against your skin, and your heart grows weaker. “I just fucking can’t.” 

“You didn’t lose me.” You say softly. “You didn’t fail me, or leave me, and you’ll never lose me.” Ben. Ben, I love you. “I’ll come back. I’ll always find my way back to you.” 

“You shouldn’t fucking have to,” he pulls back, and his face is so sad. You’ve never seen Ben sad, where his face is just slack and tired and clouded. He’s still angry, but his wrath is made of despair. Low and sunken and almost sick. That thing in him—in you—feels ill. “I can’t fucking stay here with you, I can’t protect you-“ 

“I’m okay,” you lean forwards, and Ben meets you. Heads pressed together, his arms still around your body and your hands still in his hair. “I’m going to be okay.” 

“You’re fucking not-“ 

“I will,” you whisper, and it’s not just Ben you’re trying to convince. “I’ll be okay. You don’t need to protect me from this, Ben. I’m okay.” 

“Please,” he mutters your name, and your heart finally breaks. Pulls itself in two at how low and desperate and hopeless Ben’s voice is. “Please, just come home. Just fucking come home.” 

“I can’t,” you’re crying again, and these tears are slow. Soundlessly falling from you, the only part of yourself that’s allowed to just mourn this. You’re not going home. Ben hasn’t failed you, he could never fail you, you love him and he’d never leave you or fail you or lose you, but you’re not going home. “We both know I can’t.” 

“I don’t fucking know shit-“ 

“I’m aware,” you smile dryly. “But I still can’t come home.” 

“You can,” his protests aren’t loud anymore. He’s just grasping at straws, trying to find one thing that will make you give up and go. “We’ll just fucking walk away, go to Rome-“ 

“Not until this is over. Not until Homelander’s dead.” 

“He will be,” Ben’s hands squeeze on your hips. “The team has a way to kill him, and they can fucking do it themselves-“

Your eyes widen. “They found a way?” 

“I fucking found a way, they barely did shit-“ 

“Benjamin,” you pull back, and everything is urgent again. “How do you kill Homelander.” 

“V. But-“ 

“V?” 

“Compound fucking V. Puts him down for the count, makes him a damn coma patient.” Ben says your name. “But they can do that themselves, we can go-“ 

“How do you know?” 

“We found a file in his lab-“ 

“His lab?” 

“The fucking Homelander lab, where they used my cum to make him grow-“ 

“That’s fucking disgusting-“ 

“Shut the fuck up, you love my cum-“ 

Now is not the time to let that turn you on. Keep going, no getting sidetracked trading easy, sparring words with him or thinking about his cum. “Ben, are you sure this will work?“

“I’m fucking positive, the lab nerds were real clear that even one shot of V throws off his whole body and turns the pussy into a vegetable.” 

“Won’t you still need to blast him with the special sauce?” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “They can make their own goddamn special sauce. Pump Homelander full of V, find their own fucking way to take him out forever. Drop a nuke on him, I don’t give a fuck. We-”

“That’s why you’re here.” Your brain spins, sorting and matching every piece of this together. “Samaritan’s embrace was a V front, and you’re looking for some.” 

“We’re fucking finding some, and killing Homelander, so you can go-“ 

“You won’t.” You pull Ben face forwards, forcing his words to die in his throat, making him listen. “Ben, you’re not going to find any V here.” 

He frowns, momentarily distracted from lightly tugging at your skin and pleading for you to leave. “What the fuck are you talking about. Butcher said-“ 

“Butcher was wrong,” you shake your head. “I mean, he might have been right last week, maybe even this morning, but if there was V here it’s gone now.” 

“Why-“ 

“Sage said she was dealing with a Homelander mistake last week. She must have been talking about the lab, about how you were able to get in and poke around. And nobody’s seen her or Homelander or Ezekiel all day. Whatever V was left, they’ve gotten rid of it.” 

Ben scowls. “So we can just find more-“ 

“Sage won’t leave more.” You tap your fingers against Ben’s jaw, trying to focus and not think about how he’s stilled himself completely to let you talk yourself through this. “She won’t get rid of it, not all of it, it’s too valuable, but she’ll hide it. Any supplies that might be accessible to anyone that could be hypothetically compromised will be destroyed or relocated. She won’t tell anyone, won’t leave any records. It’ll be as good as gone.” 

Ben hums, and you see his question in the knit of his brows. Well how are we supposed to fucking get our hands on it? 

“I’m not sure,” you mutter, frowning. Scanning Ben’s face like you might find the answer in it, and not stopping when you don’t because you just want to look at him. “I’d bet on Homelander, he and Sage don’t really trust each other, not enough for him to let her just bulldoze any plans or intentions he might have with remaining V. But it’s not a safe bet, Homelander’s never a safe bet.” You feel something tight and bitter in his chest, and sigh. “I’m okay, Ben.” 

He rolls his eyes, still not moving under your hands. I didn’t fucking say shit. 

“Yeah, but you thought it.” 

What are you, a fucking mind reader? 

“With you?” You smile at him, and it’s so easy. Even when you’re talking about killing Homelander, it’s still easy to smile at Ben. “I might as well be.” 

Smartass. 

“Fuck you.” 

He grins. Not in public, Sunshine. 

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up. And we’ll just have to ask A-Train when he gets back.” You sigh. “I can’t think of anything else that might work.” 

Your fingers have stilled on Ben’s face—now just playing with the hair of his beard—and he takes it as a sign to speak. “A-Train?” 

“The fast one.” 

“Why the fuck are we waiting for him?” 

“He’s defecting,” you shrug. “He’s leaving with you today, you’re going to have to fake his death by the way-“ 

“Fucking Fast-Man is coming home, but not you?” Ben’s glaring at you, saying your name in a deep, annoyed voice. “I am not fucking trading you-“ 

“You’re not trading me, Benjamin.” You hold his glare. “I’ll come home soon, just not now. And A-Train is going to help you. He helped me.” 

“How the fuck has he helped you?” Ben grumbles. “He hasn’t gotten you out-“ 

“Nobody’s gotten me out, because I’m waiting. I have a plan-“

Ben scoffs, but that strange feeling in him pulses with warmth. “Of course you have a plan.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You always have a damn plan, Sunshine.” He glowers at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not have a fucking plan.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “And how is that a bad thing?” 

“It’s not,” Ben mutters. “But I just fucking wish you would share your plans. With me. Let me goddamn help.” 

All the annoyance in you vaporizes in just how much you love him. How much you love Ben, how no matter what he’s there. He trusts you, he knows you, and he’s there for you all the time. He’ll groan and bitch about everything but he’ll still be there. He’ll try and fight your battles for you, roll his eyes and be a grump when you don’t let him, and stay at your side until you’ve won. He’ll be there to do what you need him to and then hold you like this—with so much rough care—even when he’s pissed. He won’t leave. He’ll never leave, not really. And you love him. 

“It has to play out naturally,” you say, gently. Smiling so that his scowl starts to waver. “If I tell you what to do it might not work as well. I’ll come home soon, you just have to let me do this my way. Please.” 

Ben lets out a long, labored sigh that makes his chest rumble, makes your whole body fall into his. “Fine. Fucking fine.” 

“Thank you.” 

He just grunts, and you pull his face back yours. Kiss him long and soft. Never looking for more, just trying to touch him. Just trying to have him while you can, before A-Train finds you and tells you this has to be over. You don’t ever want this to be over, you only want to kiss Ben like you have all the time in the world. Like every moment in this bathroom isn’t being borrowed and running out fast. 

You almost tell him. Right here, in a Believe Expo bathroom with Ben cupping your jaw and looking down at you with affection as his arm cages you to his chest, you almost say it. Ben. Ben, I love you. You’re going to have to let me stay here, but please know that I love you. Please, please wait for me and don’t hate me because I love you. I’m trying to make myself okay with keeping it together and leaving you to go home alone, but I’m so close to breaking. Please just tell me to damn the consequences, damn the world, and bring me home. Or to Rome, or to the farthest corner of the world, but with you. Please pick me up and take me with you because I love you and I can’t keep this up much longer. I’m okay, I’m really okay, but I’m so close to falling apart. I love you, fuck everything else because I love you and I want to go home. 

You’re crying again. They’re not singular, lonesome and tragic tears or shaking screams and sobs of hollow and empty. They’re small, wet gasps as you try to fight the words down. Try to stop yourself from ruining everything just because you can’t do this. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want Ben to go, and he has to go, but it’s going to be the most painful thing in the world. Even if you know you’ll be home soon. 

He mutters your name, deep and firm, and now you’re crying more. You love him. “What-“ 

You kiss him. You grab his shirt and yank him down and just kiss him. You can’t tell him you love him, not like this. Not when you can’t hold him all night and wake up next to him in the morning. Not now, when you have to stay here. But you’re going to tell him, you recognize that impossible to quell instinct of Ben. Ben, I love you, pushing up your throat and you only know one way to stop it. Ben, kissing him and touching him and turning those words into just sounds. Into moans and whines that he won’t understand. So you just pull Ben into you, and hope he’ll do the rest. 

He does. He’ll always do this for you. His hands will always find a firm, natural hold on your body and his mouth will always fit perfectly against yours. He’ll always fill with hunger and adoration, and give you everything he can until you’re—at least for now—whole again. He’ll always make all that noise, all that loud, angry pain in your head that’s trying to find a why, why is this so unfair that you have to stay here and Ben can’t stay with you, why won’t the world give you one thing, just one thing that you don’t have to rage to keep, and why does time have to keep moving when this day is going that have to end without Ben at your side, and he’ll make it go away. Ben will always make all the sounds and rushing thoughts in your head slow until it’s just him. Just Ben. Ben, I love you. He’ll make the whole world only Ben, rubbing circles on your skin and pulling you impossibly closer, pressing his tongue to your lips in a silent question, and taking everything you give him. 

You want to give him everything. Only opening your mouth for him to move deeper into you—to suck and bite and taste—and leaning into him so your hands are scraping at his neck, so his groans run through your body and down into you, isn’t enough. Making high, needy sounds that Ben swallows isn’t enough, grinding half against his torso and half onto the counter isn’t enough, because it doesn’t tell him. It doesn’t show him that you’ve missed him and you want him and need him and love him. Everything you can’t say, not now, you still need him to feel. He can’t feel you like you feel him, can’t understand without words how important he is to you. He can’t feel your love, not like you can feel that thing in him rumbling somewhere sacred in his chest. Bouncing off his ribcage and hungry and wanting for carnage. Wanting you, desperate for you in a bloody and wrathful way that tells you Ben cares. He might not love you, but he’s missed you. That even if he’s furious he’ll have to go without you, it's still about you. You and Ben together, right now, having each other. 

He has to have all of you. He has to have every part of you that you don’t need to see this through, so he can protect those instead. So he can keep some sort of knowledge that walking away from him—even if it’s temporary, which it is, because nothing is permanent except you and Ben so you will always find a way back to him—is impossible. It’s going to keep you up for many nights, haunt all your dreams until he’s there to hold you like this again. You have to, you can’t see another way out of this that doesn’t end in the world destroyed and Homelander the king of whatever remains, but it’s killing you. Ben needs to understand that this is killing you, that you’ve never wanted or loved anything like you need him. And the only way to show him is to give him all of you. 

“Ben,” you gasp against his mouth, and it drops to leave sloppy kisses down your jaw and neck. Letting you speak but not making it easy. Not when he’s pulling skin gently between his teeth and running his hand up your back. “Please.” 

“Please?” He hums, moving back up to look at you fully. Hands still kneading at your thigh and wrapping around your body. “What-“ 

“Fuck me.” You lean forward, trying to pull him back down. He can’t be away from you, not for a second, not now when he’s going to have to go so soon. “Please, fuck me.” 

His eyes widen, and even as the hunger roars inside him Ben frowns. “Here?” 

You nod desperately. “Please-“ 

“Sunshine,” his hold on you has become like iron, and you can feel the enormity of his want, feel his hardened cock pushing into your thigh, but he’s shaking his head. “I am not fucking you for the first time in a goddamn bathroom.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I said I wanted to take time,” Ben leaned down, holding your gaze. His eyes are darkened, and you can feel him. Everywhere you can feel Ben, in your body and around you and running between your bodies where the boundary of Ben or you doesn’t matter anymore. “And I fucking meant it. I am not fucking you when I can’t take a goddamn week off to do it, when there’s not even a fucking bed.” 

“Please, I just want-“ 

“I know what you want,” he growls your name, and you whine. “And fucking believe me, I want it as well. The only thing I want more than to fuck you stupid is to bring you the hell home. But,” he shakes his head, and presses a kiss to your brow, grunting the words against your skin. “You’re a stubborn fucking brat who doesn’t listen, so I’m not taking you home. And there’s not a fucking chance in hell I’m fucking you for the first time in a bathroom at a fucking Christ Convention.” 

You sigh, falling further into him. He’s right, which is annoying because he’s always so smug about when he’s right, but he’s right. Ben can’t fuck you, not here, not now. You can’t tell him you love him, you can’t go home with him, but you also can’t fucking him at the Christ Convention. 

Ben pulls back, watching you with silent eyes that are trying to dissect you. You love when he watches you like this, like he can see you, and you hope he never stops. You hope when you close your eyes tonight, alone in a cold room, you’ll still have the image of him watching you. 

You offer him a small smile. “How are you enjoying the Christ Convention?” 

“It’s fucking stupid,” he mutters. “Dumbest shit I’ve ever seen. Bunch of high and mighty pussies who think they know everything. Butcher said they do this every year,” he shakes his head like that’s an impossible thought. “Wouldn’t have fucking let that slide in my day.” 

You hum. “I mean, evangelical Christianity was definitely a thing in the 80s. And 70s. And 60s. Mass media just inflates connection and audience.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “Every year is still goddamn insane. The man has been dead for thousands of goddamn years, there’s nothing fucking new to say.” 

You laugh, burying your head in his shoulder. His arms hold you there, safe and comfortable against him, and it takes a lot out of you not to cry again. To just mumble against his skin, “I see you haven’t killed Butcher yet.” 

“Yet.” He grunts. “Fucking asshole’s on goddamn thin ice. Borrowed time.” 

You smile. “Well, I’m proud of you anyway.” 

His arms tense around you, and that thing glows. Somewhere in that carefully tended and protected part of Ben where it lives, it starts to feel ardent and light. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you closer, but you feel it. Glowing inside him. 

“Has anything changed,” you don’t move from speaking against him, because Ben will hear you anywhere. “Since I’ve been…” 

You can’t finish that sentence. You can’t say that word. And Ben knows, because he doesn’t make you. “No.” 

“Nothing?” 

“We haven’t exactly been fucking team building and circle jerking, Sunshine,” he drawls, and you still smile. You missed him. “We’ve got goddamn jobs to do.” 

“And you haven’t killed anyone? Even when they’re being idiot pussies?” 

He snorts. “They’ve managed not to deserve it yet.” 

“Deserve it?” 

“They’re listening to you.” 

You lean back, and frown at him. “To me?” 

“When you tell us to trust you,” he grunts. “When you go on TV.” 

Something you hadn’t fully realized was there loosens around your throat. “You’ve seen me? You’ve gotten it?” 

“Of course I’ve fucking seen you,” Ben mutters, and his glare is more indigent than anything else. “Green for me to listen. To make sure I know you’re still fucking you.” 

You smile, and it’s all teeth and a little bit of joy. He’s seen you, and he’s been paying attention, and he understands. “Good.” 

Ben rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to do green, I’ll listen no matter fucking what.” 

“It’s a signal-“ 

“I don’t need a fucking signal to know you’re okay,” he snaps your name. “I can see it on your face. When your little fucking act drops and you look like you. I need to know when you’re not okay. When I have to come get you.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I won’t,” he holds your eyes, voice firm. “I won’t come get you until you say. I’ll go along with your stupid fucking secret plan, but I need a way to know if you need me. If it’s gone to shit and you need me.”

You sigh. He needs this. Ben is doing the impossible thing you’re asking of him and only demanding one thing in return. You couldn’t say no if you wanted to. “Blue.” You squeeze his bicep, and give him another smile. “If I need you, which I won’t,” Ben glares at you, but you keep going. “I’ll wear blue. And you can come get me.” 

You’ll never wear blue again. If Ashley or Sage or Homelander try to put you in blue, you’ll spill food or coffee all over the outfit or just fucking burn it. But—likely even when you go home—you’ll never wear blue again. You’ll never wear blue or smell coconut without throwing up, you won’t drink a milkshake for a long time, and you’ll hate the winter forever. You’ll have to stay where it’s warm, you’ll have to keep Ben with you so he can block chilling winds and hold you against him like this. In a way that makes everything hot, makes your blood rush in a way that’s just you and him together. You’ll do anything to keep Ben with you when this is over. You’ll offer him this comfort that there’s a signal to tell him you need him—even if you’ll always need him, regardless of Homelander or Vought or any plan or mission—and whatever else he asks for so he’ll wait for you and hold you when you return. 

“Blue,” he repeats, nodding slowly. “Swear it.” 

“Promise.” You search his eyes, and try not to cry when you can see just how tired he is. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t-“ 

“Benjamin.” You shake your head, and lean back into him. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” 

“I haven’t done a fucking thing-“ 

“You’re here.” You whisper. “You’re going to let me do what I need to do, and you’re waiting. That’s all you have to do, but it still fucking sucks, so thank you.” I love you. 

Ben scoffs. “I thought I didn’t let you do anything.” 

You huff a soft, sad laugh. “But I’m going to thank you anyway.” You look back up at him and smile. Wide and bittersweet, but still real. This is still real. “Thank you.” 

He watches you for a second, and that thing in him is glowing again. Glowing and burning. Hungry. 

Then he’s on his knees. Ben’s hands move to hold your thighs, and he falls to his knees between your legs, smirking up at you. Eyes still tired and body still washed in distant pain, but the hunger overtaking all of it. The devotion is spreading over all of him, climbing into you. 

“Ben-“ 

“I am not fucking you here,” he winks up at you, and you don’t think your heart is working anymore. It’s gone into overdrive and it’s going to explode. “But I can still make you feel fucking good.” 

Your eyes widen, and you feel heat rush into your face. You feel heat rush everywhere. “Okay.” 

“Say it,” he grunts, and you know what he wants. You always know what he wants. 

“Please,” you grab his face, running your fingers back into his hair. “Please, Ben.” 

“More.” 

“I want you,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to stay stable otherwise. Not when one of Ben’s hands is drawing closer to your center, hovering right over your underwear. “Ben, I want you, please-“ 

His thumb presses right over your clit, and your words turn into a long moan. “All you fucking have to do is ask, beautiful.” He grins up at you. “Say my name and ask.” 

“Ben-“ 

“Whole thing.” 

“Benjamin, please-“ 

He stands up, crashing his mouth against yours as his hand moves under your panties, teasing you gently. Rubbing his thumb lightly while he slides his fingers between you, but never in. Groaning into your mouth when he feels how wet you’ve become, how much you want him.

“Fucking needy, Sunshine.” He mutters, pulling his hand away, taking your underwear with him and dropping it on the floor. “So fucking needy.” 

You only moan, trying to grind into him enough that he’ll just come back, and he pulls his mouth away, grinning down at you. He looks so handsome, with dark eyes and full lips that were just on you and why can’t he just come back- 

His fingers—the ones that had just been touching you—raise into his mouth, and you almost fall off the counter. Almost jump him when he makes a low, satisfied sound and watches you with a cocky smirk. How you’re wrecked and he’s not even touching you anymore. 

“Please-“ 

He pulls his fingers out his mouth and grabs your face, yanking it up to him. His hand in your hair, your taste is in his mouth, his body so strong and warm and Ben and he’s everything- 

“Fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, and you whimper. “You’re so fucking good.” He says your name, and you think you might just cum from that. The impossibly good sound of your name from Ben’s mouth, in his deep and powerful voice. 

“Ben,” your words are just breath, but you know he understands, because he grunts and his hands that’s moved under your thigh squeezes you. “Please. More, please-“ 

He’s gone again, moving you back down to the counter and returning to his knees. You almost whine again, almost make a desperate sound that was probably supposed to be come back, but then he’s everywhere. His hands hook under your knees, and he tugs you forwards. Right into his mouth. 

He’s done this once. It made you scream his name and see stars, but this is better. He’s learning, you realize, because he’s already doing everything he needs to do to bring you up to the edge. After just one time he’d somehow memorized every single thing that made you melt, and now he’s on a mission. 

He moves one hand to knead and bruise your thigh around him, while using the other to brace against your abdomen, keeping you still as he works. 

His tongue is there first. Licking you once until he brushes your clit, flicking it once, feeling your thighs tighten around him, and chuckling as he does it again. 

“You fucking like that?” He mutters, and you just moan and try to roll your hips against his face. 

He laughs and does it again, lighter this time, so feather like and teasing you until you whine. Until it’s too much and you’re aching before he flattens his tongue against you and hums, running it down, up, down, and into you. Ben pushing his tongue into you, and starts to fuck you with him mouth. 

His teeth are brushing against you when he pushes in, letting out a growl when you clench around him that makes his nose bump your clit. You make a strangled sound and he finds a rhythm. His tongue doesn’t stop moving, twisting and fucking you as he squeezes the skin of your thigh, then rises for just enough to nip at your clit and sooth it with a kiss before dropping back down. 

Ben won’t let you cum. He knows exactly when that line is and he’s taunting you with it, grunting into you as you start to shake above him, as you tug at his hair or moan his name. He goes faster, eating you like he’s been starved until you start to tremble, and then he slows down, running his tongue between your pussy and clit, never fully touching either. Starting it all over the moment your breathing becomes steady. 

“Ben,” you whisper, and he looks up at you with so much devotion and affection it almost makes you fall apart just from him. From how relaxed he looks, between your legs. How his eyes are hungry and lustful and full of light. For you. “Please.” 

He hums against you, and you shiver as the sound runs up your spine. “More?” 

“Please.” 

“You want me?” 

“I need you.” 

He smirks up at you. “You need me, Sunshine? Need me to make you fucking cum?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out as his hand moves from your thigh, tracing circles around you and over you but never pushing in. “Ben, please. I need you, please-“ 

Two broad, rough fingers push into you and your words dissolve into a moan. Ben pumps them once, and once more when you squeeze around him. “Like that? You fucking need me to do that?” 

“Ben-“ 

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, gaze dropping down to watch you clench around him when he moves again. “You’re so fucking tight, beautiful, it’s gonna fucking kill me.” 

You can’t speak anymore, not when he moves in and out again, and again, and again. Setting a brutal, demanding pace that has you unable to think outside of Ben. Rough, strong fingers inside of you that are Ben’s and making you feel so good. 

“No smart words from that pretty fucking mouth?” he hums your name, and you whine. 

“Ben-“ 

“There’s one.” He winks at you, and you melt further into him. Try to use your leg to pull him closer. “Let’s see if we can make you scream it.” 

He drops back down and bites your clit. It’s gentle and light, but Ben bites you and you have to move a hand to cover your mouth so you don’t scream his name. You’re trying to grind onto his face, his fingering still fucking you without relent or relief, and you need him to keep going. To bite you or lick you or do something to bring you over the edge. But his arm is keeping you so torturously still, you can only grip his hair and throw your head back as he goes and goes and goes and you’re full of him. He’s in you and on you, his tongue tracing taunting circles around your clit, and it’s all Ben. 

Then he kisses you. He leaves one, painfully soft kiss against your clit as his fingers still deep inside you, and you’re so close. 

“Ben-“ 

You feel him grin against you, and he crooks his fingers in you against that one spot as he pulls your clit into his mouth. He sucks on it and groans, and that’s it. Everything is Ben, flicking his tongue against you with a growl and scissoring his fingers to give friction inside you, and you have to bite your hand as you cum. As everything grows loose and good, the whole world becomes both so big and wide but it’s still just Ben. It’s still just Ben in all the warmth and pleasure, making you feel like you’re made of stardust and more important than the sun as he keeps going through your orgasm until you’re shaking. Until you’re trying to pull him back up because you need to see him. You need him to kiss you again because you love him, and this is going to be over so soon and you just need to see him. Show Ben that he’s done this, that every part of you is his and nothing else has ever mattered like this matters. 

You almost damn it. He’s pulled you apart and put you back together, still going, and now you have to tell him. Ben has to know, he has to know you love him. It’s so impossibly crucial that Ben understands you love him. You say it, you say Ben, I love you, but he’s done his job too well and all that comes out is a breathless, wanting sound. Every part of your body, of your mind and soul tries to say it as well. Ben. Ben, I love you. Ben, I love you. Please understand, please try and feel how much I love you and tell me you understand. But he's still going, even as your thighs start to crush his head, and all you get is a roar. That thing inside him roars, and moves to fully rest in you. You don’t understand it, you’re not even sure Ben understands it, but it’s sitting in you now just as much as him, and it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever felt. It hums when you repeat the words in your head, when you think Ben. Ben, I love you, and pray he’ll somehow hear it, somehow see it on your face when he’s still between your legs. He doesn’t, but that thing always makes another low, happy sound and that can be enough. Everything is light and high, and this strange thing that lives in Ben but feels like it’s yours can be enough. 

Ben, after what might have been a thousand years, stands up. He’s staring at you—still slightly shaking and flushed, words still a little far away—and the look in his eyes is reverent. His face is covered in you and his beard is wet but he’s not moving to wipe it away. He just kisses you, one last long time, and mutters your name against your lips. 

“You’re perfect,” his voice is low and wanting, and you shutter against him. Feel his hard cock twitch against you. “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

In the grand scheme of things, it’s probably a good thing A-Train finds you when he does. Because if you’d been left alone with Ben for about three more seconds the part of you that’s been begging you to just go, go home with Ben and the rest of the world can figure out how to deal with this themselves, just tell Ben you love him and go, would’ve won. 

That doesn’t mean you can’t be annoyed when the room is rushed with cold air and A-Train slams the door behind him. 

Ben’s faster than you—in all fairness he didn’t just have an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re at a disadvantage—and turns to block your body from view, roaring at A-Train. 

“What the fucking hell-“ 

“Calm down, asshole.” Peaking over Ben’s shoulder you can see that A-Train’s facing the wall, back to you both. “This isn’t something I want to see. I’m just doing my job.” 

“Get fuck out-“ 

You reach around Ben’s head and cover his mouth with a hand, staying behind him as you lean over his body to address A-Train. “Are we ready?” 

A-Train nods. “Ezekiel’s waiting for me, I told him I’d find where your team is then come get him.” 

“Okay,” you sigh, trying to focus on running through your mental checklist when you can still feel Ben, when your legs have wrapped themselves around his torso. “I’ll burn out your tracker, and we’ll get going.”

Ben licks your hand, and it surprises you enough to pull back. 

“Benjamin, what the hell-“ 

“Does anyone want to fucking tell me what’s going on?” He snaps, glaring at you over his shoulder. “Or am I supposed to just goddamn stay in the dark?” 

“I did tell you,” you kick his thigh slightly. “A-Train’s defecting, you’re going to kill him-“ 

“Don’t actually kill me,” A-Train cuts in, still facing away from you. “I’m not doing this if this dick is going to actually kill me.” 

“He’s knows that-“ 

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know shit.” 

You pinch him, shooting him a flat look. You’re being unhelpful. Shut up and get me decent. 

He rolls his eyes, and ducks down to pick your discarded underwear off the floor. You keep speaking as he helps you into them, allowing yourself to sit slightly in the feeling of him touching you, hands running up your legs and arms holding you still. 

“They won’t kill you, A-Train. Ben, promise you won’t kill him.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Benjamin.” 

“Fine, I won’t fucking kill him.” 

You glare at him. “Promise.” 

“I swear I won’t kill him.” He glares at you, drawing back up to his full height. “Happy?” 

You smile at him. “Very.” And it’s not even a lie. “A-Train, you can look.” 

Ben steps to the side—you have to shove him slightly, but he does—and A-Train turns around slowly. 

“My tracker?” 

You nod, pushing off the counter and crossing the bathroom. “This might take a second.” 

Ben follows you, standing behind you silently as you raise your hand over A-Train’s extended arm and close your eyes. This will work, this has to work. Ben’s right here, and he’s warm, and right now you’re not afraid, so this will work. 

It takes a few minutes of slow breathing and focus, but you drag just enough up fire. You can do this. 

You glance at A-Train once. “This might really hurt.” 

“Just do it-“ 

The flame forms in the palm of your hand and your eyes narrow. Concentrating it into something like a needle and pushing it into A-Train’s arm. He flinches, face twisting, but doesn’t pull away as you work. Smoke fills the room, all three of you watching the beam of fire twist and scorch A-Train’s skin, burning it with the tracker. Ben’s shoulder nudges yours and you pause, looking up at him. 

“What?” 

“It’s gone,” he grunts. “I heard it, it’s fried.” 

A-Train frowns. “You sure?”

“Fucking positive.” 

“Then,” A-Train looks back at you. “We’re good?” 

You glance at Ben, who gives you a tight nod. “I guess.” 

A-Train looks between you and Ben again, but rests his arm back at his side. “Is he going to tell your team-“ 

“I’ve got it fucking handled,” Ben snaps. “Pretend to kill you, bring you back. Find another way to get V.” 

“V?” 

Your eyes widen. You’d almost forgotten. “Fuck, wait. A-Train where did you find Ezekiel?” 

“He was backstage,” he shrugs. “Most of that time was spent convincing him, he’s annoying as hell-” He frowns at you, cutting himself off. “Why?” 

“We need some V,” you sigh. “But if he was backstage that means they finished cleaning up. There won’t be any left, not here.” 

“Why do you need V?” A-Train shakes his head. “That shit is horrible for you, it almost fucking killed me-“ 

“It knocks Homelander out. We need it to kill him.” You look at Ben, and find him watching you carefully. “You’re going to need to tell Butcher what I told you. You’re not going to find V any way you might have before.” 

Ben scowls. “Well then how the fuck-“ 

“Homelander,” you swallow down the lump and bile in your throat. “He’s the only bet we have. He had to have kept some-“ 

“He keeps some in his apartment,” A-Train interjects, and you turn to see him frowning at you, hands on his hips. “I saw it, even took some for Hughie. It’s in a box.” 

“I’ve never seen it-“ 

“He might have moved it when you arrived,” A-Train shrugs. “But he has some.” 

You nod, chewing on your tongue, and feel Ben’s arms wrap around you. Pulling you back into his chest.

“You don’t have to fucking get it.” He mutters. “We’ll find another way-“ 

You sigh, and tilt your head back to look up at him. “There’s not always another way, Ben. We have to get through this, not around it.” 

He glares at you. Come home. Just fucking come home. 

I can’t. You stand on your toes, leaning further into him, and give him a gentle smile. You have to go, and I can’t come with you. 

His body tenses around you, and he makes a deep, pained sound from his chest. I fucking hate this. This is fucking stupid and I fucking hate it. 

I know. You squeeze his arm around you and force yourself not to cry. You can’t cry now, because you won’t stop and this will never work. I know you do. But I’ll see you again. Soon. 

Fucking swear it. Swear you’ll come home. 

I promise. 

He nods, and turns you around. Kisses you again, and you know this is the last one for a while. He’s not pushing into you or trying to get more, he’s just trying to memorize you and you’re doing the same to him. You already knew all of Ben—and he knows all of you—but you need to have it leave a mark that you can carry when he goes. You need to still remember in a week, still feel how his muscles move around you like he’s still holding you, have his taste remain on your tongue when he’s not there pushing it into you, smell pine and gunpowder and Ben over the coconut. You’ll certainly have how he sounds—you’ll never lose how Ben sounds because his phantom will stay with you—but you want all of it. You need all of it if you’re going to keep going. 

A-Train coughs, and Ben pulls away with one last, gentle movement. 

“We have to get moving,” when you turn, A-Train isn’t looking at you, but frowning at Ben. “Homelander will be back real soon, for his speech.” 

Homelander’s speech. Your speech. You have to go do your speech. “Okay.” 

You have to force every step as you pull away from Ben’s body. He doesn’t let you go, not fully, allowing you to turn before dropping his head down to yours. 

“Come home.” It’s final. He’s still asking, even when he knows the answer, one final time.

“Soon,” you whisper. “You’re not losing me, Ben. You just have to wait for me.” 

“I’ll always fucking wait for you.” He grunts, and your heart isn’t going to recover from this. Not for a long time. “I’ll wait a million goddamn years, as long as you always fucking come home.” 

“Always.” You mumble, and he nods. “Thank you.” 

“You burn, I burn,” his breath fans against your face, and you can feel that thing in him start to riot. Claw up your lungs—Ben’s lungs—and throat. Furious and loud. 

So you just make a small, sad sound because you’re out of tears and sobs and sighs and smiles. “You burn, I burn.” You look up, and meet his eyes. “Can you do me a favor, Ben?” 

He just grunts, and you know he understands. You’re not asking, you’re cashing one of your last favors in. But it’s not for you. 

“Don’t be a dick to Ryan, please.” 

Ben blinks at you. “What?” 

“Ryan Butcher.” You watch him carefully. “Don’t be an ass to him. He’s just a kid.” 

“I haven’t been a fucking ass-“ 

“Yes, you have.” You trace a hand along his beard, resting it at the base of his neck. “I know you, Ben. You might not be being an ass on purpose, but you’re blaming him for this. He’s just a kid, it’s not his fault. None of this is his fault.” 

“You’re only here-“ 

“Because of Homelander,” you shake your head against his. “Not because you lost me, or failed me. Not because of Ryan or even Butcher. Because of Homelander. So please, just be kind to Ryan. For me.” 

He stands up, and holds you against him for one last moment. “Fine.” He pauses and kisses the top of your head, speaking the last words against you in a way that rolls through your body. “For you.” 

“I’ll see you soon,” you whisper into his chest, your words right over his heart. Right over where you can still feel that thing tearing Ben apart. You hope he’ll carry them until you’re home and can tell that thing to rest. 

Ben nods. “Soon.” 

A-Train’s been waiting, and you’re thankful for how he doesn’t say anything. How he lets Ben and you peel yourselves apart, lets Ben pick up his cap, gives you one last curt nod, and doesn’t comment on how you love Ben, or make you say any more promises. You only have room for two promises now, because they’re the most important ones you’ll ever make. Kill Homelander. Go home. You only have in it you to nod back, and try not to fall to the floor and scream when Ben gives you one last look and a kiss on the crease of your brow. When he walks out the door—like you’d told him to—and you have to watch him go. When A-Train leaves as well, and you trust both of them to do what you need them to, but it still shatters you. You’d had him. He was real and warm and here and you’d had him. There wasn’t a world where you kept him—not today—but this is still the most painful thing you’ve ever done. 

He’s lingering. You’re finding your way back to the stage and Ben’s likely still across the venue, but he’s still in you. That impossible to understand thing is still in you where it had been in Ben, and it’s not fading. It’s setting itself into you, and making you feel Ben even when you pull off your disguise and try to fix your makeup and smooth your hair in a backstage mirror. It’s making it hard to acknowledge that doing that—staying there with him for so long and letting him touch you like you’d needed—wasn’t smart, because this is all you’ll have for a while. At least until you revise your plan, until you figure out a way to get your team the V they need. As much as it hurts, you’re praying that this thing stays with you until you’re back in Ben’s arms. It might be the only way you get through this. 

Ashley finds you minutes later, her hair a mess and a wild, panicked look in her eyes. “Where the fuck did you go?!” 

“I was in the bathroom-“ 

“The bathroom?!” She shakes her head frantically. “For almost a fucking hour?!” 

You shrug, looking around nervously. No Homelander. No Sage. “I can’t control my period-“ 

“You know what?” Ashley raises a hand sharply. “I don’t fucking care. You’re on now, move.” 

Your mouth falls open, and the cold starts to creep back in. “Now? But I’m not until-“ 

“A-Train and Ezekiel are fucking missing, and Sage still hasn’t shown up after being a controlling bitch about this all week, so you’re on now.” You’re frozen in place, and Ashley looks up at you with glare. “Now! Fucking go!”

She almost moves to push you, but flinches back at the last second. Your feet start to carry you forwards, moving mechanically through the steps Ashley had drilled into you this morning. A man mics you, and you can barely feel his anxiety over the cold. It’s getting cold again, and the only thing keeping your legs steady beneath you, keeping you upright, is the way that Ben is still there. How you can feel that odd thing from him ingrained in you even when he’s gone, how it’s him. Everything about it is Ben, and it’s making a home inside of you and keeping your mind from clouding with cold. Fogged up cold. 

The man finishes his job, adjusting the mic a little further from your mouth. A woman checks your hair and makeup, and another points out all your marks and the teleprompter as Deep wraps up with large gestures and over-exaggerated laughs. The first woman smooths down your costume once and gives a thumbs up, the second shoves you forward with a clipboard, and suddenly you’re there. On the stage, walking to a red x and being blinded by stage lights that turn the crowd into murmuring shadows.

Words fall out of your mouth like vomit. You sound robotic. You feel robotic. You’re speaking and your voice isn’t yours, you’re smiling and it’s wrong on your face, and your hands are locked behind your back so your nails can tap and dig into your skin. 

“From when I was young, I’ve loved Homelander. Even when we were children, sharing secret moments in the fields behind my parent’s house, I loved him. I loved him enough to follow him to the city before he knew how I felt, before I knew he loved me. I loved him when he made his first save, and he told me how happy it made him.” Swallow the bile, read the words on the prompter. The boring, mechanical, words about love that aren’t yours. Aren’t about your love. “I loved him when he came to me with roses and told me he loved me, asked me to be his one and only. I loved him when he let me stay on the sidelines, when he was forced into PR relationships to keep me safe. I love him now, as America’s greatest hero and my savior.” Don’t break. “I love Homelander because he completes me. I see us in every great romance in history. He is the thing that gets me up in the morning. He makes me happy, and I want to start a family with him. Lead the best life we can together. I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story-“ 

Your words are cut off by a rush of air and shaking of the stage as Homelander lands at your side. Grinning and waving, placing a hand on your lower back as his voice echoes over the venue. 

“Oh, just pretend you can’t see me!” The crowd grows louder with applause, and he laughs. “I’m here to listen to Anomaly, same as all of you! I just have the best seat!” He pulls you off your mark, closer to the front of the stage. “She’s doing so well, isn’t she?” 

He grins at you as the crowd’s noise begins to drown out your own thoughts, and you make yourself smile back. The nerves are real, but you force the comfort onto your face. Make yourself stay on your feet. There’s no other option but staying on your feet and smiling at Homelander like his hand on your own body doesn’t fill you with dread and agony and cold. Pretend you don’t know what’s coming, that you’re going to finish and Homelander will kiss you and you’ll have to not scream or push him away. You’re sweating and the air is humid from the lingering mist of the morning, but you’re so cold. 

“Alright, let’s settle down!” Homelander dismisses the crowd with a hand, and the last few whoops and claps die off. “Keep going, honey, everyone’s listening.” 

You swallow. No way out. “I’m excited to lead a great life with Homelander, for our love story to be remembered as one from a fairytale. Because he is my prince, my white knight who saved me from the dark. Homelander, you're my soulmate, and I love you. I am deeply in love with you, and there will never be another-“ 

Something bangs in the distance, and the part of Ben that’s still in you begins to pound. Drums. Echoes of drums in your chest that fall into time with a spark of lights and another bang. Gunshots. Those are gunshots and the overhead lights are sparking.

Homelander’s hand tenses on your back. “Keep calm, folks! I’m sure it’s just a truck! I’ll go myself and make sure they get that faulty engine fixed. Please, let my lovely girlfriend finish the speech she’s been working so hard on.” He leans down to hiss in your ear, face turned from the crowd. “Keep going until I get back. Don’t stop fucking talking.” 

He’s gone, and another gunshot fires. Ben. Ben might be in danger, Homelander’s going and Ben is strong but they don’t have the V, and Sage hasn’t been seen all day. The gas- 

Ashley’s gesturing at you off to the side. Keep going. 

You have to keep going. There’s nothing you can do but try and cling to that thing in you—rumbling and bloody—that tells you Ben is still awake. Try and raise your voice over the gunshots that mean he’s still fighting. 

“There will never be another man for me. And that’s why-“ The prompter glitches and sparks out, and a flash of light clears the sky in the distance. Then there’s another gunshot, and a whoosh of air, and you have to keep going. You can still feel Ben, so you have to keep going. There are no words left for you to say, you didn’t memorize the speech and can’t remember where it went after the that’s why line. You have to find your own word. You have to just keep going. 

“That’s why I want to share what it’s like to love him.” You take a heavy breath, and hold onto that piece of Ben in you like it’s a lifeline. “Why he’s everything to me.” 

The venue lights flash again, and the phones start to spark out and fry with the cameras. You’re okay with that. This isn’t for the world to remember or see, this is for you to keep talking and find a way to keep going. 

“He’s good,” you smile into the flickering darkness. “He’s just so good. It’s hard, but he’s still good. His smile is the best one you’ll ever see, and his laugh is the only thing you’ll ever need to hear. If you could see him happy like I do, you’d never want to see anything else. And I, I get to do so many things I’ve always wanted to do with him. I get to talk to him and feel heard and to cook with him and share things I enjoy, and he touches me like I’m the only one he’s ever wanted to touch. Ever needed to touch. Ever needed. I get to feel half as wanted as I want him, and I want him. I want all of him.” You can’t stop. Your heart is breaking and gluing itself together every other second, but you can’t stop. “I want the parts you get to see and the parts that get to be mine. I want to laugh at him and with him and see him smile. See a smile that gets to be mine, and keep watching him try. Try to keep me when everything is horrible, and I want to stay with him, I want to stay with him-“ Your words are becoming choked, and you’re pleading to no one. Begging into a silent crowd of people who don’t understand and a night that doesn’t care. Keep going. “I, I want to watch him be better, never stop trying to be better, just be better and be good. Be good to me, he’s so good to me, even, even when it’s hard and I have to miss him and I-“

The whole word explodes. The drums are still rattling around your head as the night is illuminated from a cloud of fire and ash exploding across the night. You almost run to it, run to him, but people are grabbing you and pulling you off stage. You can’t fight, you're frozen, kept from shattering only by the hum of Ben still carved into you. Like an imprint, like a scar you wouldn’t want to heal if you could because it’s telling you he’s awake.

They lock you away. Someone shoves you into the trailer and you hear the door click, but you don’t bother to even try the handle. You couldn’t move if you wanted, couldn’t run if you tried. You’re cracking. Not breaking—not while that thing of Ben’s still shifts inside you and tells you he’s okay—but cracking. Growing weaker, the fire going dormant once more, because you’d let it get away from you. That speech won’t see the morning, nobody had gotten the part that was just you on footage, but people will talk. Sage will hear, Homelander will hear, and the former will know that you weren’t talking from nothing. She’ll see that hand you’d accidentally shown, that last piece she’d been looking for. The only thing that will save you is the latter believing you were speaking of him. That it’s Homelander you need and want and think is good. You’ve never laughed with Homelander, never seen him be better—only worse—and never, ever missed him, but he’ll still think you were talking about him. 

You miss Ben. You’re sobbing on the floor, cracks appearing in your mask because it’s all too much, and you just miss Ben. You’ll get through this. You can feel that echo of Ben still in your chest even as the noise outside dies down, and you know you’ll get through this, but you’ll miss Ben. More than before, which you didn’t think was possible. You’ll miss him more because he’s waiting, and you know home is closer in time but far in effort. Anything goes wrong and home goes away forever. There’s a way to kill Homelander, a way to get Ben the shot to kill Homelander, but this has to go right. You have to do this clever, however you need to, and with no hesitation, because then you can go home and Ben will be waiting. You’ll kill Homelander, and hold each other until this doesn’t feel like pain anymore. Only another shadow in the corner, another skeleton you bury and grow flowers from. 

Ben will be waiting. You’ll pull yourself up and tape every single piece of your mind together to drag yourself home to Ben, and he’ll pick you up. Ben will wait, and he’ll make this better. 

You’ll love him when you touch him again, and forever after that. You’ll love him when he makes this better and you remind him he’ll never fail you. When you get to stay and you never have to break again. Until then you’ll love him here as well. You’ll keep this piece of Ben in you, and worship in the hopes he feels it. 

You hope he feels your love. Even if he doesn’t love you, you still hope Ben gets to feel your love like you feel his strange thing inside of you. Gets to know it’s yours, for him, and feel how easy and natural it is to love him. How he didn’t fail you, could never fail you, because you love him like this. 

You love him until the night is silent. Until it’s just the dark and spreading warmth. Until your tears are dry and you can just feel you and him. You love Ben like there’s nothing else to love in the world, because there’s not. 

No love is worth this holy and infinite one that you have for Ben. No love is worth rage and desolation like this one is. No one is worth what Ben is. 

And he’ll wait for you. You’ll go back to him. You’ll find a way home. 

You’ll always find your way back to Ben.

——————

Ben couldn’t let himself think about it. Not now, not when he was still fucking clean up the mess he and the team had made. Not when the Pussy Mobile had come to a screeching, rattling halt right before Butcher could park it, and Ben was honestly surprised they’d made it the whole damn drive back. The hunk of shit probably should’ve broken down the moment Butcher had floored it and they’d torn away as Homelander dealt with their diversion. Ezekiel’s body strung up across tents—Ben having pulled him apart with hands and hatred—Annie playing haunted house with all the lights, and a bomb of the French Prick’s going off when Homelander destroyed the guns MM had rigged to keep firing. 

He couldn’t think about how’d almost fucking lost it. How they’d been driving away and Ben had been forced to shove the drums down, try to control them and keep the bomb in his chest from destroying the van and the team when the Thing was roaring at him. When the night had exploded and it had shaken the van, making Ben have to just stare and floor and try not to get lost in how much this fucking hurt. He’d done it, he’d done exactly as She’d asked. A-Train was “dead”—Homelander even the last person to see him before Frenchie’s bomb supposedly blew him to bits, which had been Hughie’s idea and didn’t end up being total fucking shit—and they knew they had to wait for V. They knew that had to wait for Her to get them some or find it somewhere else. Every selfish part of Ben wanted Her to get it, because that meant she’d have to give it them. She’d have to come home to give them the V, and this wouldn’t fucking hurt anymore. 

He’d find a way to get Her to stay this time, and this would never be painful again. He’d kill Homelander and she’d get to smile at him somewhere in Rome forever. He’d hear Her cry about normal, stupid fucking things and she’d tease him and tell him what to do, and he’d just kiss Her until this didn’t fucking hurt anymore. Because he’d done it, he’d done the job, and he’d never hated himself more. 

They were circled up in the dining hall. It was past midnight, but this was a lot more fucking important. They had A-Train, and maybe the fucker could help them. Get Her closer to coming home. Sleep didn’t matter, not when Ben had to fucking bring Her home. 

Ben’s at the head of the table. He can’t sit, can’t rest, he can’t stop fucking moving, not for a second. Not when it will be nothing but fucking pain and images of Her in his head. Fresh, like open wounds that won’t just fucking heal. 

So Ben stood, rigid at the head of the table, his fists curling and uncurling. Butcher at his side—the man’s glare almost as violent as Ben’s—as A-Train’s bouncing knee shook the table. Hughie and Annie had gone to bed with small nods—nobody had stopped them—but MM was frowning at A-Train from his seat across the table, and Kimiko and the French Prick were watching the tight silence with nervous expressions. 

“Are any of you going to talk, or just keep fucking staring at me?” 

Ben’s jaw clenched at the fucking sneer in A-Train’s voice. The fucking annoyance, as if Ben hadn’t just fucking given everything, given the whole fucking world, to save his fast, worthless, pussy ass. She’d told him to, and he had, but it should be Her at the table. In Ben’s arms. Not this fucking piece of shit She’d been so goddamn certain could help. 

He could only say half of that. A-Train needed to understand what had been lost to get him here. He had no fucking right to know more about Her. 

Ben leaned across the table, not bother to hide the fucking fury in his voice. “You’re the one who needs to start fucking talking.” 

“About what?” A-Train snapped. “I’m here, you know why I’m here, what else am I supposed to do?” 

“Make this fucking worth it!” Ben roared Her name. “Said you’d help. Fucking help!” 

“How? How am I supposed to help?” 

Butcher cut in right before Ben could rip A-Train’s head off. “Our mutual friend seemed to be bloody certain you’d have somethin for us. MM here seems to think we can trust you. And I’d fuckin wager you’ve got some real nasty shit on Homelander and Vought.” 

“Yeah, but-“ 

“Man, just listen,” MM muttered. “Those two motherfuckers get off on vengeance, and you’re not doing yourself any favors by poking at them.” 

Butcher scowled at MM, and Ben just keeps fucking pushing. She’d said A-Train could help, and she was never fucking wrong, so the pussy better start fucking helping until Ben started finding more creative ways to figure out what she’d meant. 

Don’t kill A-Train, Ben. Her voice hummed in his head. Or at least do it outside. People eat here. 

“What was she planning,” Ben grunted, trying to speak firm and steady over the pain. “She told me she was planning something. What is it.” 

“Don’t know,” A-Train at least had the brains to look a little fucking guilty. “When we talked she’d never tell me. Said she couldn’t risk it or something.” 

“Well, what did she say?” MM runs his hand over his face. “There has to be something we could use.” 

“Nothing,” A-Train’s answer is way too damn fast, and he’s giving Ben a strange fucking look. “I mean, she was trying to convince me to help, and I agreed, and now I’m here. I can’t fucking help more than that-“ 

“That ain’t fuckin true mate,” Butcher sneers. “You gotta have somethin for us. We didn’t fake your damn death just for you to come here and leech.” 

“I’ve got some stuff on Vought, but you can’t really think they were telling me everything? I mean, Sage didn’t trust me as far as she could thrown me, and she’s not that strong-“ 

“There has to be fucking something!” Ben hissed Her name, leaning down to hold A-Train’s gaze. “She had to have said fucking something, anything, that could get her-“ 

“She wouldn’t share her plan with me!” A-Train was still fucking looking at Ben like that. Like he’d fucking dropped from the sky and was speaking goddamn gibberish. “Like I said, she didn’t tell me anything! I asked, and she said no. She didn’t even fucking tell you!” A-Train gestured at Ben with an exasperated movement. “Why do you think she’d tell me!” 

“A-Train,” MM sighed. “What do you know? That shit about Vought, about Homelander and Sage, about anything.” 

“I mean I fucking know all their old V stashes. I know about security. I know Sage, kind of. How she thinks. I know Ashley, and she’s real close to snapping or losing it or something.” 

“That’s good,” MM glanced up at Butcher. “We can get Mallory here tomorrow. Get all his shit down.” 

“Mate, we can’t be fuckin sure he’s even gonna tell us the truth-“ 

“I will.” A-Train frowned at Butcher. “I’m not here for Vought, fuck those guys. I’m here because I’m trying to be better. Because she,” A-Train shot Ben another strange look as he said Her name for clarification. “She said I could help. I’m not going to lie, there’s too much on the fucking line to lie.” 

“Well,” Butcher snapped. “We might need a little bloody more than Vought security protocols and a fuckin Sage profile. That’s all shit we can get our fuckin selves-“

“I can get you their passwords.” A-Train said, words abrupt and tight. “Hughie’s into all that computer stuff, right? I can write down everything I remember about Vought, about all their passwords, and go over what Sage has told me. I can tell you weaknesses, about Homelander and milk, and the Deep and fish-“ 

“How the fuck will that help-“ 

A-Train cut Ben off with Her name, and everything fucking hurt again. “She thought I could help. This is all I can do, man. She knew that, and she thought it was worth it.” 

“Stop fucking talking about her like that.” Ben hissed. “You don’t know her. You don’t know what she thinks, not about this or any other damn thing.” 

“She told me I could help you. So I’m here.” A-Train didn’t flinch away from Ben’s glare. “Don’t blame me for her idea.” 

Ben was going to kill him. He was going to fucking rip his spine out of his back and break both his knees. The pussy didn’t have any fucking right to pretend to know Her, what she wanted. Ben trusted Her with his goddamn life, and he fucking trusted she knew what she was doing because there was no other option. No world where she never came back to him. She had to fucking come back, come home, but there wasn’t a single fucking way passwords and milk was going to help fucking help them. Help Her. 

Butcher placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder, and he flinched. “The fuck-“ 

“In and out, Gov.” Butcher muttered. “It ain’t gonna help shit to kill A-Train, even if he deserves it.” 

“Shut the fuck up, you pussy-“ 

“Trust me, I want to kill him just as much as you do. But he’s got somethin for us that ain’t totally fuckin useless.” Butcher nodded to MM. “We’ll get Mallory here at the crack of fuckin dawn. We got some work to do.” 

MM nodded, leaning down the table to the French Prick and Kimiko. “Can you two show A-Train a room? Doesn’t fucking matter which one, just get him in a bed.” 

A-Train gave Ben one last weird fucking look before he was led out of the room, leaving Ben with Butcher, MM, and the hum of a fan somewhere. 

Butcher sighed, dropping his hand from Ben’s shoulder back into his pockets. “MM, you better be bloody right about him-“ 

“I am,” MM muttered. “He’s here. He’s not going to fucking leave now, not with his family out there. And we can use his info, get the Kid on a laptop and into their servers. Get an idea of what Sage is doing. But we still need V-“ 

Butcher said Her name, and it ached in Ben’s ears. “Said she’d get us some. Right, Gov?” 

Ben grunted with a nod, and Butcher frowned. 

“She good?” 

Ben shot Butcher a glare. “The fuck is it to you.” 

Butcher shrugged. “She’s doin a lot of shit. Want to make sure she ain’t gonna burn out on us.” 

“She fucking won’t.” Ben snapped. She couldn’t. She’d promised she’d come home. “She’ll be fine.” 

She’ll be fine. Ben had left Her but she was going to be fine. 

You didn’t leave me, Ben. 

Butcher was speaking before Ben could respond to Her voice. “You didn’t fuckin pick her up and carry her back?”

“Fucking obviously.” 

Butcher narrowed his eyes. “After all your fuckin peacocking-“ 

“She told me to trust her,” Ben muttered. “And she’d have fucking kicked my ass if I tried to take her.” Ben shot Butcher a cold look. “I’m not in the business of making my woman do shit she doesn’t goddamn want to.” 

He’d said the words before he could think about them. My woman. She was his. He was supposed to hold her and protect her and care for her and help her and- 

Everything was fucking painful. 

Butcher grunted, nodding. “She’ll get through this, Mate. She’s a clever fuckin lady, she knows what she’s doing.” 

Ben didn’t respond. He already fucking knew that, he knew everything about her. She was fucking perfect and a goddamn threat to Ben’s sanity. 

He didn’t even notice Butcher was gone until MM coughed, and Ben realized it was just them left in the dining hall. 

“What.” 

“You were gone with her for a while,” MM said, watching Ben with a blank, unreadable face. “The fuck were you doing that whole time.” 

“None of your fucking business.” 

“It is if she’s-“ 

“It’s fucking not.” Ben glared at MM with all the fucking pain in his body. “It’s ours. Nobody else's.”

MM hummed, holding Ben’s glower. “Ours.”

“You’ve got a fucking problem with that? You hate me so fucking much you don’t trust me with her? When I’m the only fucking one who’s been fighting for her, doing whatever it fucking takes while you pussies-“ 

“I don’t trust you with her, motherfucker.” MM sneered. “She’s a good woman, and she’s too good for you. She doesn’t need you to fight for her-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben couldn’t fucking deal with this. Not when everything hurt and he could still see Her when he closed his eyes. “You can hate me for the rest of goddamn time, and tell me I’m evil or say I get off on vengeance, or whatever else makes you sleep at night, but never say shit about what you think she deserves, or needs.” 

“What, you think you speak for her?” MM scoffed. “You think she needs you?” 

Something stabbed deep into the Thing, and Ben had to speak through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t fucking need anyone. She wants me.” His head hurt. Something was pulling at his throat and clouding his eyes and a halo of pain was wrapping around his head. Stinging his tongue when he said Her name. “Doesn’t need you telling her what she wants. Or if I’m fucking good for her. She’s capable of making her own fucking choices.” 

Look at you, defending my honor. My right to choose. Keep this up and you’ll be giving lectures at Feminist panels. 

The pain was becoming blinding. 

“You’re a fucking murderer, Soldier Boy.” MM stood from the table, leering at Ben. “Nothing’s going to change that, change the shit you’ve done.” 

Ben’s jaw was going to break. “I know what I was.” He grunted, a lot of his anger leaking out and being replaced by just this inescapable agony. “You don’t need to fucking tell me. But I’d fucking do it again,” Ben gave MM a cold look. “I’d kill a thousand fucking people and be trapped in Russia for a million goddamn years if it brought her home.” 

“And what about those people's families?” MM hissed. “Their kids, like me?” 

“I’d fucking repent.” Ben sighed. He was so fucking tired. “I’d do it and add another hundred years to my sentence for every single body.” Anything. Anything to bring Her home. 

“What about me,” MM was still frowning, but there was something tragic in his voice. Something Ben couldn’t call weak, because he felt it too, felt it in his pain. “What about what you fucking did to me.” 

Ben said the only thing he could think of. The only thing that he could fucking mean and understand at the same time. “Whatever I fucking need to for you just fucking let her be happy.” 

“With you?”

“With me.” Ben felt something hard in his throat. “Or wherever else she wants. Just goddamn happy.” 

MM sighed, and Ben wished he would just fucking leave. Let Ben deal with this fucking pain alone. “She’ll fucking want it with you.”

Ben blinked at MM, something close to shock sparking through his chest. “What.” 

“She’ll be happy with you. When she gets back. I can’t fucking explain it, I defiantly don’t damn understand it, but she’s real happy with you.” MM shook his head. “She sees something in you I can’t understand, don’t even know where she’s finding it, but she’s smarter than most of us. Smarter than me and Butcher, defiantly fucking smart than you. I can’t explain why, shit’s fucking baffling why, but she’ll be happy with you. Just,” MM gave Ben one last look. It wasn’t cold, wasn’t hateful. Just tired. “Try to earn it.” 

It was like MM had fucking shot him. Shot Ben in the fucking chest and left him to bleed out. He stood in the dining hall, alone and in pain long after MM left, and only managed to move when the fan stuttered off and he couldn’t stand the silence. 

He hadn’t earned Her. Ben could never fucking earn her. He’d held her and lost her, fucking again. He’d spent the whole fucking Christ Convenetion feeling the way the Thing was alight, burning and raging inside of him, trying to pull him around and falling into a beat that was so familiar but Ben still didn’t recognize, or know how to decipher. It had been trying to tell him something, it was always trying to tell him something, but it had been fucking feral. Roaring and howling in a language Ben didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. He’d come closer to geting, when he’d seen her. Touched Her. 

Real. 

Back in his arms and fucking real. Making the Thing start to break bones in his body and turn Ben into just a fucking soldier that could bring Her home. Make her smile while she was against him forever, make those feelings of sheer fucking pleasure and ease run between them when he touched her, tasted her, and just had her. 

He’d fucking had Her. She’d been real, with Ben, and he’d lost her. 

You didn’t lose me, Benjamin. I’ll come home. 

He didn’t fucking care. It was all goddamn semantics, because Ben had failed, again, to be worthy of her. He’d listened to her and done as he’d been told, and still managed to fail Her. She wasn’t home. Ben couldn’t breathe because she wasn’t home. He’d failed to bring Her home, failed to convince her she’d done enough. That everything was worse because she wasn’t at Ben’s side, that everything hurt because he’d fucking failed. She didn’t know what she meant to him. If She knew what she meant to Ben she’d have come home. If he could break the Thing’s stupid fucking code and tell her that vital thing, she’d have understood and come home. 

The Thing pulsed, and Ben knew he was wrong. Collapsing on the couch, he knew he was wrong and she wouldn’t have left. He could’ve offered Her the sun and stars and every fucking song in the world and she’d have still told him she had to see this through.

Why couldn’t he have chosen to feel like this about a woman who would just go? Leave? Just fuck the world and come home for Ben. 

Because that wouldn’t have been Her. The Thing ran into Ben’s head, but it wasn’t speaking. It was pushing against the painful haze, and Ben was finding the words on his own. She’d never give up on the world. She’s too good to give up on the world. And it always has to be Her. Nothing is capable of making you feel this pain like She is.

That might be the worst fucking part of this. Was that, somewhere in this pain of Ben having lost Her. He’d left her and lost her and she still doesn’t understand that Ben can’t breathe without Her there, there was something good. She’d trusted him, to do what she needed him to do. She’d cried against him and known he’d pick her up and make it better. She’d touched him and still meant it, still wanted him even after he’d failed Her. 

She still wanted him. She still wanted Ben. She’d smiled at him and laughed with him and known him like nobody ever had. Like nobody ever would, not like she did. Not like she’d pulled Ben into her and tried to tell him everything he’d needed to hear. Found every way to feed the Thing with soft words and pretty looks, and all at once, grow this pain. She was perfect, and she still wanted Ben, and he’d never fucking earn her. 

That’s what breaks the pain. Snaps it open in two, and Ben with it. She wanted him. She was perfect and she wanted him and Ben hadn’t even told Her how much he missed Her. How he wasn’t sleeping and eating was an act of labor without Her there to throw crumpled napkins at his face and hang around his body while he did the dishes. How she was gone and nothing was good. 

He hadn’t told Her. And she still wanted him. And Ben breaks. 

It starts in his chest. Shaking something there and pushing that lump further up into his mouth. The pain tightens around his throat and brow, his eyes feel fucking weird, and the first sound echoes through the dark, empty apartment. Choked. Tired. All fucking pain and hurt. 

The damn breaks, and Ben’s too goddamn exhausted to fight it. He roars into the darkness, even though he knows nobody can hear. Maybe she will. Across the city and bay, she’ll hear how much Ben fucking misses Her. How nothing is as important as Her. Home. Safe. With Ben and happy. 

When he roars again, it’s strangled and he tastes salt. His eyes hurt, and it’s so fucking hard breathe. There are no drums, no violence in him. Just a fucking ache for Her, and he can’t do anything about it but try and pull it out of his brain. Run his hand over his face and through his hair and pull it back to find it wet.

He’s crying. He’s fucking crying. 

Ben hadn’t fucking cried since he was a child. It had been a hundred fucking years since Ben had cried like a pussy. Weak, pathetic, and useless. 

This didn’t feel useless. For reasons Ben couldn’t fucking understand, the bellows of pain escaping his body and the endless fucking pain finding its way out of his body didn’t feel useless. It felt good. It felt like a tribute, like he was leaving an offering for Her in this loneliness. This was agony and the worst fucking thing in the world and Ben had to fucking break to prove it. She couldn’t break, she wouldn’t allow herself to, so Ben would do it for Her. He’d shatter on the floor of their apartment and cling to any thought of Her as it made this pain grow. It was a lot fucking better than forgetting. 

Nothing would hurt more than forgetting Her. Forgetting her laugh and smile and the way she felt. Forgetting her beautiful face and smart fucking mouth, forgetting the way she spoke and looked at Ben. Like She somehow did think he was worthy. 

So Ben just cried. He knew she’d come home but he still just fucking sobbed on the couch. Alone. Missing Her, and wanting her, and waiting for her. 

He’d fucking wait for Her. He’d cry for Her and be haunted by her until She was home. 

He’d always wait. She’d always come home, so Ben would always fucking wait. 

The Thing would keep him company, twisting and screaming in time with Ben’s tears and choked noises of pain. Remind him of every part of Her. Every part he’d lost. Every part that would come back. 

Ben cried until the sun cracked the sky. 

He’d wait for Her until it burned out the universe.

End Note:  End of chapter check in! How we feeling, squad? We getting through this?

Also, if you haven't yet, check out the first one-shot from the reader event! I'm moving through the rest, and I think I'll upload them between chapters to keep you guys fed. No matter what, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you soon!

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[bittercappuccinu]

tried drawing a wallpaper for myself :)

shadow alone below because i like how he looks more

[34saveme34]

FINALLY HERE!!!

Imperfect Integrity 3/5 for Ties AU (check out my fic tag to see the others if you didn't catch up yet!)

this is quite marware fic

some silly warnings: self harm, blood, emotional so fucking emotional, gay, there's gay sex mentions (NOT CLICKBAIT), 4 being an asshole

20k words, so far the longest thing I had ever written, if I keep this up, which I'll probably will, the Ties AU at the end might turn out to be like, 100k words overall or so but that's just an estimate

also as an aside, for the next part you will need to watch Meta runners to understand the stuff in it, otherwise it won't make sense. so if like you want to watch in like. Idk when I'll be able to write AND finish it but it'll probably take a while until I get there.

now when I don't feel exhausted, I'll start working on the Magical AU ep 1 and probably like try to remember worldbuilding stuff I forgot to write down like an idiot

anyways, enjoy!

It had been a while since Mr Puzzles was cleared of the dredged piece. It really cleared his mind, even more overtime. Although, with no money, he didn’t quite know what to do. As he walked around the city, trying to jog his mind, to give him something to work with, he spotted one of his rivals. Or well…. to him more of an ex rival. They locked eyes, Puzzles wasn’t sure how they were feeling. Staring at him with such a mysterious expression, veiled by maybe his still foggy mind or he just forgot how to understand people.

“Puzzles…?” he could hear them speak. Puzzles suddenly straightened himself up as he was caught off guard. Maybe he even stared, how embarrassing!

“Y-.. Yes! It is… I…” he chuckled awkwardly.

“You’re… not here to scheme again, are you?”

“Hm? Oh… I kind of stopped that. Especially with my old studio smashed to the ground” he might’ve sounded a bit too devastated, something he didn’t mean to be in front of someone like this, someone who knew what he was before way too well and felt it on their skin. Even if they never exactly fully met face to face, especially not in such a casual way as now.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it! I didn’t want to believe it. I mean, someone like you, losing your… your…”

“My everything? Yes, indeed… Is that all you want?”

“Uhm… I don’t know. I never quite got close to talking to you. You were always so…intimidating”

“Yeah I- I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t quite myself, to say the least”

They looked at him shocked.

“You- You’re saying sorry? Huh… You really changed.”

“For the better I think” Puzzles smiled fondly, one man crossing his mind.

“Heh… Well, I’m sure. So, what will you do now?”

“Well, I kind of don’t have anywhere to go and I’m out of a job”

They didn’t reply for a while, seemingly thinking something over.

“Hey… c’mere, maybe I can offer you something good”

“Oh? Sure” Puzzles took a seat in front of them.

Only now did he fully get a good look at them. They were in a white sundress, had green eyes and gray long hair, let loose draping their face a bit, one of their eyes barely visible. He was kind of used to seeing them in suits and other formal clothing from pictures so it was an interesting change. He really needed that sort of casual vibe right now.

“So… You may have been a boss before but… what do you say to working for me? I know you’re qualified so we don’t even have to bother with that nonsense” they smiled. They were serious about their offer. If Puzzles still had a jaw, it would’ve dropped. He still clearly looked shocked though.

“What? You’re a great catch when it comes to this industry. It’s even YOU doing me a favour. And don’t worry, I’d pay you accordingly too, you can name your price”

“Well… I’d like it if it was fair to the others as well. I don’t want to be paid that much more compared to other workers”

“So a little bit more?”

“Sure but- what position do you have?”

“Oh just- whatever”

“...Whatever?”

“Whatever you can take when you come to it”

“So… An… Everchanging position?”

“Well… considering you’re really skilled in all fields of movie making, I feel I would stifle your potential if I forced you into a single position”

“You flatter me”

They laughed.

“You earned it, Mr Puzzles. Even though you were a vindictive… ahem asshole, it’s hard to deny that you always were an extremely talented person”

“Hm… heh” he chuckled “Well, sure, I’ll take it. Let’s just make it official at some point” Puzzles added almost awkwardly. The offer did find him pretty suddenly so he might have rushed into it. Then again, he didn’t see anything bad to it. Though it’ll definitely make headlines that he’s working for a rival of his. There will probably be rumors about it. He didn’t care though, since he would still get to do what he always loved doing.

Just as his now soon to be boss was handing him a business card, he heard wild yelling. Not just any yelling, it was his name being yelled. And it was rapidly getting closer. As he turned to the source of the noise, said source tackled him.

“Mario needs you!!” Mario yelled, as the source of the sudden noise as he was sort of straddling Puzzles with how he knocked him over.

“Uhm…?” his soon to be boss looked over at the 2 and thought for a bit. Then they laughed “Well, alright, here” they gave him their business card “Just call me when you’re not busy being tackled by men” they winked then left. 

Puzzles felt a little hot as he got up, then ripped Mario off of himself as well, considering how he was latched onto him. Puzzles, being tackled by men? No! That never happened before. Mario tackling him down was an exception. And it didn’t mean anything more than that. He just… needed him for whatever reason.

“Mario needs you!!!” Mario repeated himself, looking up at Puzzles with his big blue eyes. God, maybe he will do whatever he wants! Who said that.

“What do you need me for?” he sighed, giving in, asking him as he crouched down to his level. 

“For research. For SMG1 and SMG2”

“Uhuuuh. And why exactly?”

“Our link.” Mario said as if Puzzles was already well versed in Cosmology lore.

“Our what now?”

“The thing I did for you to not die. Though it was on accident… Mario will do lotta accidents but he didn’t think he could do such a big one!”

Mario almost looked proud of himself.

“Hm… Well” Puzzles smiled at Mario, with such a disgustingly sweet smile, it couldn’t be more genuine “I’m glad you did, you really saved me. I would still be lost if it wasn’t for you”

Mario seemed to be lost looking at Puzzles’s screen. Almost as if he froze. It took a good few seconds for him to respond.

“S… So!! Mario needs you!! Right now!!” Mario picked up Puzzles and started running with him at a speed Puzzles didn’t think was possible for the avatar to achieve. He… truly had some wonderful tricks up his sleeves. And didn’t it just make him more endearing? Who said that. 

Mario ran with him to 1 and 2’s place, not stopping even for a moment before getting there. Almost like he was doing everything in himself to focus only on going and nothing else around him. 

They arrived and Mario quickly dropped Puzzles down once he entered 1 and 2’s home.

“There you 2 are!” 2 cheered.

“So, we can start, yes?” 1 chimed in too.

“What will this be for anyways?” Puzzles asked, still sort of confused with the situation.

“You see, Mr Puzzles, what you have with Mario is really special.”

Puzzles tried very hard to not interpret that in a different way than it was meant to. No way anyways! Mario was not his type. He wasn’t even sure if he would even like anyone though. He never really had people like that in his life. At all honestly.

“Special how exactly?”

“Well… uh, exposition time I guess! 2, get the exposition powerpoint!” 

2 brought out a projector, 1 pulled down a white projector background out of nowhere. Puzzles was a little impressed by how well the meme guardians were prepared for this kind of thing. Kind of made him think about the ways he thought of handling stuff before he went really crazy… Good times.

“So you see, I, SMG1, as well as SMG2, we are meme guardians, and also partners. As in cosmically linked. You see, this was something that was inherent to us since we started existing.”

2 flipped to an image of the 2, with their hands linked, in the process of transmuting a meme.

“Started existing? Cosmically linked?” Puzzles was trying to keep up.

“Yes, we are ageless in a sense. Maybe… Immortal is more correct? And yes, cosmically linked. Sort of like being soulmates. It’s so we can share our power and make each other stronger as well. While we can work on our own as well, working together almost always brings better results. Like what you see on the slide, this is us transmuting memes! The same is true for SMG3 and SMG4 as well. Now… You 2”

he sighed.

“I… I don’t really know to be fair” he admitted.

Silence filled the room. Puzzles was thinking how to react.

‘“Well uh… that’s why I’m here, right? So you can figure it out” Puzzles tried to be optimistic for 1 and 2.

“Right!” 2 chimed in. 1 was starting to feel better about it now.

“Yeah, I guess so”

“Should I bring the memes, 1?”

“Just what I was thinking! Almost like you read my mind”

2 giggled before leaving to get the memes.

“What do you need the memes for?” Puzzles asked.

“You see… I was wondering if your weirdly created link can also manipulate memes or not. Considering Mario is literally the avatar of this world- Oh yeah, Mario being the avatar means if he gets killed the whole world goes to ruin. He’s like the heart of this universe. Oh yeah, we come from a different universe, it’s just since we… lost our avatar, it went to ruin, it became uninhabitable. Dwelling on the past so much is no good though ahah.”

Puzzles was just nodding along.

“Say uh… I’ve been thinking… I remember when SMG3 and SMG4 mended their severed ties… although in a pretty dreamlike way, considering I wasn’t fully there but- they had their literal physical ties well- located differently”

“Physical ties?” 1 looked at him curiously “Why didn’t they mention this to me or 2” Puzzles could almost imagine the kind of talking to 3 and 4 will get about this… Ah, well, not his problem.

2 came back with the memes.

“I was just mentioning it” Puzzles started again, slowly to make sure he had 1’s attention again “Because their ties were on their hands, while with Mario, he does have it on his hands, I actually have it right by my collarbone”

“Oooh, the same place Mario grabbed with all his will to make sure you don’t die!” Mario added with a cheery tone, as if it wasn’t traumatic at all.

“E-... Ah, exactly, Mario” Puzzles sighed.

“Hm” 1 immediately grabbed a few notes to scribble on “I wonder if their locations being different could affect anything in this… even the fact that neither of you are meme guardians!”

he still seemed to be a bit frustrated with this whole thing. Puzzles kind of felt bad.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry” he spoke quietly but everyone looked at him. 1 panicked a bit.

“Oh no no no, I’m so glad to know this is actually possible! I’ve never seen anything like this! I’m just frustrated because it’s hard to figure out!” 

Puzzles showed a weak smile.

“Besides, it’s also Mario’s fault” Mario chimed in as he stood closer to Puzzles, as if he was trying to comfort him.

They got to a few tests after finally everyone was okay. They came to a few conclusions: The power of the link can be measured physically, however it is more chaotic than the average guardian link, thus it is more unstable. It cannot affect memes, however it has the potential to be more powerful than that. Though that was just a theory from 1 based on how it managed to save Puzzles from going back. However he did note the shared pain being so intense must have something to do with it. 

As they were leaving, Mario didn’t seem to leave his side.

“What?” Puzzles looked at him.

Mario seemed to struggle before finally spitting out something that had been on his rather empty, echoey mind of his. 

“Mario was thinking if you want to live with him!! Considering that he knows you don’t have anywhere else to go right now!!” 

Puzzles was taken aback. He chuckled, his face feeling a bit hot, hot enough that Mario noticed.

“Heh, uhm well, didn’t know you took such a liking to me, Mario” it almost felt like Puzzles was teasing Mario, even though it wasn’t his intention at all. He just wanted to stop feeling like a shaking leaf over kindness.

More concerning, Mario seemed to stop, again, that frozen face of his. Puzzles was scared he hurt him, immediately trying to make it right.

“I mean! That you feel sorry enough for me! I mean uhm, you must not be inviting just any homeless person to live with you!” if he could sweat right now…

Mario slowly regained the composure he seemingly lost.

“Hey now, I do like you a little bit” Mario said cheerfully as he went to lead the way to his and Luigi’s house.

Likes him a little bit? Oh those words were like flints trying to spark something and slowly causing a fire inside his head, making him even more stupid about this whole situation… Oh, it must be the link! There wasn’t anything weird to be explained here, he was just feeling this way because of their link and nothing else. Especially since it happened so recently too! Who knows, it could be actively lying to him about his feelings!

They went inside the house, Luigi greeted him. 

“Mario did say you had nowhere else to go so I agreed that you could live here until you figure something out!” 

“Thank you, it really does mean a lot to me, more than anything” Puzzles sounded so awfully grateful practically on his knees but that could’ve been because he was so god damn tall, it had both brothers ever so lightly flustered. Just a tiny bit but enough to where Puzzles was starting to notice it.

“Oh, of course! It’s the best we can do, it really isn’t much!” Luigi was the more awkward one while Mario just laughed then stared in front of himself. It was almost like he was asserting dominance with just his gaze. Puzzles once again felt awkward.

“Oh, did I mess up… This social interacting thing really isn’t my strong suit right now-”

“Oh, you’re fine, really! Just never had someone so grateful for hospitality is all” Luigi finally sounded fine again “Besides, you can always really thank us by helping around. Mario is like a tornado of messes anyways and I wouldn’t mind help with that”

“Hey! I’m not that bad” Mario defended himself.

“Heh, what, bro? You want to look good in front of your new friend?”

Friend.

Friend.

Friend.

Friend

Oh, it rang so many times in Puzzles’s head. It should have settled in at this point but hearing it like this what did it. Sometimes he still thought he was living in that total loneliness he used to be in before. He smiled. He smiled so much, if he could he would’ve cried.

“I’m your friend?” he sounded like he was genuinely crying.

The 2 brothers looked at him.

“Of course! You’re our friend!”

“Mario thinks you’re pretty cool”

He grabbed both in a tight hug before setting them down again and leaving immediately to a different room. He didn’t even know the layout but he sure was going. At least he was exploring on his own! Oh, he was feeling like a dumbass then. He seemed to stop in what was possibly Mario’s room, considering how messy it looked. But it did smell like him so it was definitely his room. His smell had such a comforting effect on Puzzles, probably due to the fact that the link they newly formed was having undeniably strange effects on him that can’t be attributed to anything else. Nothing else at all. Besides he could NEVER be into fat italians. Just a combo he always found unappealing. So why would he EVER find that type of man interesting or worth his time now? Not even character development could ever do that to him! Just a forceful cosmic link that makes you believe untrue and super false things!

Mario opened the door to see Puzzles on his bed. It was kind of silly, considering he was not even close to being able to fit on the bed. He was just way too tall and lanky to fit on there right. It made Mario chuckle which made Puzzles notice him. They stared at each other for a bit, before Puzzles got up.

“I got in your bed- that wasn’t my intention”

“Mhmmm… It also doesn’t seem big enough for you…”

“Huh? Yea I- How did I not realise that” Puzzles laughed awkwardly as he decided to just plop down on the ground instead.

“It’s okay, Mario understands. Puzzles man only recently became normal”

Puzzles nodded, not knowing what else he could add to this. He didn’t want to run his mouth and say something stupid again. Was he always this much of an idiot? He could barely remember at this point.

Mario could easily notice the frown forming on Puzzles’s screen, which only served to concern him. He sat beside him.

“You good?” 

“Oh I… Well, would you really want to listen? I think it’s just a bunch of nonsense but-”

“Yes, Mario will hear you out. You think he doesn’t think about a bunch of nonsense? You underestimate him”

Puzzles chuckled.

“Well alright… I’m just feeling really stressed… about life in general I think. Since it moved on without me- I can’t exactly resume from where I left off. And my head feels weird in general. Sometimes just… feeling like doing things without thinking or something…”

“HmmmMMmmMMMMMmMM” Mario made loud thinking noises.

“Oh? Do you have an idea on what it could be?”

“No…. although….”

“Although?”

“SMG4 noted before that I acted pretty weird lately”

“Oh huh?”

“In his words ‘Why did you just suggest something good to my videos that wasn’t a meme?’ “

Well this puzzled the Puzzle. 

“What did you suggest?”

“Don’t remember” Mario looked aside for a moment then he seemed to become rather content about himself.

“This is weird… We should talk about it with SMG4 sometime…”

“Mmmm… wait!!” Mario suddenly got up and ran to a calendar “We’ll have vacation soon!!”

“V… Vacation?”

“Yeah! SMG4 said we all deserve one good break!!”

“Huh! So um… I won’t see you for a bit?”

“No way!”

Mario furrowed his brows before he grabbed his phone and went outside. Was interesting seeing Mario act this way… not just stubborn but so… He didn’t even know how to put it into words.

As he sat there, beside Mario’s bed, his mind started to wander, listening to the silence better and the noises hidden in it… The analogue clock that was hung on the wall dominated it although he could hear other things. Like the wind outside. Steps sounding across the halls outside. Even the light hum of his screen finding him. It was rather peaceful, it let him think. He still needed to think about a lot. Or maybe just not think at all. The idea seemed rather attractive. Even though he now cringed as he remembered how tightly he hugged the 2 brothers before running off like a mindless idiot. Good thing Mario didn’t seem to question it. Maybe he should look at things in a similar way! Do first, question why later. Or never, preferably. What could possibly go wrong?

As he was deep in his thoughts, what stirred him from his daydreaming was yelling outside. He now knew it to be Mario, it was rather well… fitting to him. No one else could yell the same way as Mario does. What an odd thing to note for Puzzles…He chose not to think about it though. Just appreciate Mario’s unique nature without further thought. 

A few minutes later, Mario came back with a big smile on his face.

“Mario convinced SMG4 to let you come with us!!” he cheered, hugging Puzzles.

The affection still felt weird, he was still battling feelings. He was sort of relieved when Mario let go of him but he still wished it back so dearly. It was probably one of those things where he couldn’t turn off his brain no matter how much he wanted to.

“You should keep hugs to a minimum, Mario” he commented.

“Awww, you don’t like hugs?” he sounded a bit sad “Really funny how you hugged us so tight before… Mario don’t get it” he looked genuinely stumped.

“I don’t know! I do but I don’t. Just- Just keep them short… please?”

“Okie-dokie!!” Mario smiled “Hmmm… what should you pack for vacation….”

“I kind of don’t have anything” he laughed awkwardly.

“Uhuh… Not even a phone?”

“Nope”

“MmmmMMMMMMMMmmmmMMMMmmmmmm damn”

“Am I not enough by myself”

“I’m gonna ask Luigi if we can get you stuff, can’t just let you come with us with zero planning. That could generate issues we could combat right now instead of leaving it for later”

Mario left. His tone was different from usual. This man was LEADING and with GRACE at that. Puzzles felt starstruck. What the fuck? Sure, Mario had his moments acting a bit outside of who he is but this was so much more. He talked like… Like how he would. Eh, it’s probably nothing!

Luigi got dragged into the room.

“Mario brought Luigi here for you”

“Sorry” Puzzles already felt the apology escaping him. He didn’t think much about it right now afterall. He didn’t think anything. He definitely wasn’t thinking. Why would he be thinking right now? Don’t be silly! He was definitely not thinking and thinking till the end of the Earth! Only the old Puzzles would think about how much of a burden he felt like as soon as he was himself again. The new Puzzles would definitely not feel like he was worth nothing or even less, or that he didn’t deserve to be forgiven even if he was kind of brainwashed.

He was definitely not thinking about any of that. He would never. End of it.

“Hey, it’s okay!” Luigi tried to reassure Puzzles “You do need some things. I heard we’re going to the nearby beach so you need at least some kind of beach clothes. Can…. Can you even go in water?”

“Everything except my head”

“Then yeah! We need swimwear for you. And we need to go shopping anyways!”

“Are you sure?” Puzzles still tried to be nice but was trying to hide so hard that he wasn’t feeling okay mentally.

“Of course! We need spaghetti for Mario anyways so I wanted to go shopping! And maybe… I know where we could get you swimwear”

“Alright” Puzzles got up, hitting his head “Sorry, I’m so tall”

Luigi giggled.

“Well, sadly that’s one thing we can’t fix”

“I think I’ll get used to it”

“Hmm…” Mario thought out loud “Maybe you can squish the spiders up there for Mario”

“Sure thing, Mario” Puzzles smiled at him before turning away, not entertaining anything in himself. Such a stupid idea to overthink such a simple thing anyways. It did freeze Mario though, especially because of the way Puzzles would say his name. Maybe he was a little unwell about Puzzles. Even Luigi noticed the tension between the 2 but decided to brush it off.

“C’mon, guys! We gotta finish while it’s still bright outside!” He left the room, the other 2 soon followed. 

Mario was oddly quiet during the shopping trip until they went to a shop that seemed to be holding just- an abhorrent amount of swimwear of all sorts. Even styles Puzzles never saw before. He was a bit overwhelmed by the selection, although less and less as he reminded himself that about 90% of the stuff sold here won’t fit him considering how god damn tall he was. They went inside, looking around. The shopkeeper, a rather old lady, came out and immediately led the 3 men to the taller section. Now there Puzzles had the chance of finding something good!

They looked around, Puzzles started to feel rather picky. He didn’t know exactly what to go for. 

“Stumped?” Luigi looked up at Puzzles as he seemed to be struggling.

“I don’t know what I exactly want”

“Aren’t bikinis hot right now?” Mario chimed in “Mario was also thinking about getting some”

Puzzles flushed red.

“Me? Showing skin? Don’t be ridiculous!” Puzzles seemed rather defensive. And utterly embarrassed. 

“Mario! Don’t just say things without thinking!” 

“But I’m Mario” 

“You embarrassed him!”

The 2 brothers went onto arguing about boundaries while Puzzles searched further. In the end he found one of those one piece swimsuits that reach from elbow to knee and seemed satisfied with that. It was probably his best choice. Luigi bought it for him. After that they also got him some clothes so he could change later. Once again something that was hard to find at first but since their wonderful world was very diverse even without Puzzles’s amazing lankiness, they found clothes that fit him.

“I’ll pay it back though!” Puzzles said “Write it up somewhere and I’ll totally have it covered as soon as I start working again!”

“Okay okay!” Luigi tried to calm Puzzles down “This won’t drive me broke! If buying Mario a yacht’s worth of spaghetti each month doesn’t then nothing will”

“Oh that sounds like soooo much spaghetti” Mario salivated at the thought.

“Don’t entertain that idea!”

Puzzles laughed at the two.

“Alright but still write it down somewhere. I don’t want to use you too much”

Luigi nodded.

They got home. Luigi went to unload all the groceries while Puzzles got dragged to Mario’s room by Mario himself. He seemed to be going toddler tantrum mode by how tired the day had gotten him or maybe he was just upset he wouldn’t get a yacht’s worth of spaghetti. Even then, his grip on Puzzles was stronger than what should have been possible. 

Mario laid Puzzles down with ease and laid beside him with not much afterthought. He fell asleep fast and even then clung onto Puzzles pretty strongly. He could not escape. 

He couldn’t help it, he let his mind race. He didn’t know how he exactly felt about Mario but he really might make him act up at this rate and he wasn’t kidding. He was being so cute through all of this and at the swimwear shop what kind of sounded like flirting. It definitely wasn’t though! He doubted that Mario would pull out actual flirting just like that. Nobody ever made him feel this way and it was super infuriating for him.

He kind of ended up riling himself up as he angrily stared at Mario. That anger slowly slipped away. He couldn’t stay mad at him. He hadn’t known him for that long anyways, he could always just be feeling this way because experiences in general felt new to him. He just- won’t fully entertain this crazy shit right now but try his best to give himself space to process his feelings. Even if it might throw off the people around him. Even if it could cause him to be a  burden… He stopped at that. He also didn’t want to feel like dead weight around the crew. Especially as he imagined how god awfully awkward he’ll feel around everyone when they go on that vacation. This was gonna be really hard on him, even if he realised he needed space for his big feelings. He yawned. He felt tired too. He pulled the blanket off of the bed and tried his best to cover himself and Mario as well. Kind of weird, but they managed to fall asleep on the floor together. 

The 2 slept soundly together, as they tangled up more while sleeping. Considering how neither was a light sleeper, Luigi had an interesting sight to greet him when he went to Mario to tell him that breakfast was ready.

He giggled at the sight and even took a picture. That’ll be something he can tease Mario about later. He left the room quietly with an evil grin plastered on his face.

It took a while until Mario stirred. Even he was surprised that he was held so closely by Puzzles. And just how warm he was. And wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought he would be, considering his body was made of wires and cables. He actually felt really comfortable. Maybe a bit too comfortable. He still couldn’t quite understand what was going on in his brain. He just let the thoughts run across him as if his mind was a waterfall and these thoughts were feeble, unfit fish that are defenseless against the power of a waterfall. Just like how his thoughts were defenseless at Mario’s mind becoming so empty they become nothing as well. Though that just left him confused. He didn’t know if this was okay but hey! It was probably nothing. It’ll just solve itself in some roundabout way like how things usually just go off in a chain reaction around him. He was sort of used to things happening to him and around him. Just like when his Mighty Italian suffered at the merciless door’s slammige. Although he was panicked, things happening around him kind of solved it. Just like how a good but silly plot demands it. This time should be no different. Since there was a good and engaging start to this and it had slowly been ramping up, it should reach a satisfying conclusion. It was only fair, to make a story that could leave a mark on people… What… What were these thoughts? Even Mario himself was stumped at his thoughts. Maybe it was because he just woke up but he wasn’t exactly the type to have discussions like this inside his head for fun. He preferred his mind to have as much of a reverb as St. Stephen’s Basilica no less and with the most disgustingly awful sound system set up, so bad any words spoken are drenched in noise, losing clarity. Honestly, maybe even more. Make his mind as echoey as a hollow Earth would be and record it with an xbox type headset.

He looked up to Puzzles, discarding his thoughts as he observed Puzzles’s softly humming screen engulfed in static. It was rather mesmerising. He squirmed until he freed his hands and reached up to feel his screen. Even his screen was sort of warm, although harder than his body, there was still something startlingly alive about it. He became a little obsessed with it. And it seemed Puzzles chose the worst possible time to wake up.

Mario hesitantly pulled away his hands from Puzzles’s screen. 

“Hmmm?” Puzzles didn’t speak yet, just humming softly as he woke up.

“Good morning, TV man” Mario defaulted to being sort of polite. It seemed he couldn’t fully discard those thoughts now! Unfortunate. Suffer my gay wrath, Mario.

“Morning, Mario…” he yawned “How’d you sleep”

“Pretty good… you’re comfy” he giggled as he cuddled closer to Puzzles. To his dismay. Puzzles sat up. He whined. Puzzles pulled Mario off of him. 

“Physical affection time is over now” Puzzles said, rather dryly. 

Mario looked at him, with waves of sadness, waves that washed away in his blue eyes that got so big, pleading, looking at Puzzles just to give him one more second of physical closeness. Puzzles strongly averted his gaze. Although now he won’t be able to get those puppy eyes out of his mind. 

He stood up, this time more careful to not hit his head in the ceiling. 

Mario decided to brush it off. Though, once again, he couldn’t quite discard it all until he thought about breakfast.

“Oh, Mario’s gonna have breakfast” and there he went.

Puzzles sighed. Even yesterday, Mario got to him quite a lot but he didn’t have the heart to push him away. Especially not after what he ended up thinking about after Mario fell asleep. Although, based on how it all went down, it might not be the last time that Mario would fall asleep latched onto him. And he was a bit worried about the fact that it didn’t bother him. Though maybe it was better for him to get used to it. He knew he had to make some odd sacrifices to make his life work again. Or more like start working for the first time ever. 

He left to see Mario destroying breakfast. It was as if they made mukbang but violent. He already saw what Luigi meant by Mario being something to deal with. Luigi looked at him, they shared a look. He sat down with the brothers to eat with them. Although he didn’t need a lot to sustain himself, he still needed a bit. And as he did, the 2 brothers looked at him. Puzzles felt embarrassed.

“What?” he already tried to defend himself “can’t a man have his breakfast?”

“TV eats…. pretty cool” Mario was maybe a bit too joyful about Puzzles being able to eat.

“I just didn’t think about it before but it makes sense! Sorry if we caused you to feel bad”

Puzzles sighed.

“Thank you, apology accepted… I just don’t want to be seen as a freak is all…”

“Of course, it’s understandable”

“Mario will fight the haters for you” and he sounded serious about it too.

Puzzles was clearly flattered, maybe a bit flustered. Luigi looked between the 2. Puzzles looked at him. Luigi gave him a look that could only be described as having the vibe of ‘Idk what’s going on with you 2 but I’m not gonna get tangled in your problem’. Puzzles felt defeated.

“Say… When exactly is the vacation?” Puzzles changed the subject.

“This weekend”

“Oh huh! 2 more days then… At least I have time to attend to… actually getting a job”

“TV already getting a new job?”

“Yes, Mario” he said “Actually you interrupted me in the middle of it when I was asked to join my ex rival’s studio. Which is why I would’ve needed the- Wait we actually really did forget about getting me a phone” Puzzles stared off “How will I call them now?”

“You can use our land line!” 

“Oh, thank you! Maybe next time we go we can actually get me one”

“Sure thing, Puzzles! Let's hope we don’t forget next time”

“Yeah”

He got up and left, forcing the conversation to end. Mario watched him closely then stared at where he saw Puzzles leave.

Luigi took his phone out with the picture he took of the 2.

Mario noticed the motion under his face, looking down. He took a bit as he realised what he was looking at. He slowly flushed red. Luigi grinned at the reaction.

“I see you slept well” he teased Mario.

Mario couldn’t react as he turned away from Luigi, trying to hide his face. His ears being so red were giving away his thoughts though.

“Oh, dear god, you’re THAT smitten” Luigi laughed, now feeling a bit bad. Mario would usually try to throw hands at this point.

He looked back at him with the most genuine shock in his eyes.

“Smitten??!” he said with so much disbelief, he genuinely didn’t think about it that way.

Luigi stared at him.

“You didn’t think about that at all?”

“No!!! Mario is too stupid for stuff like that!” he seemed rather panicked now.

“Oh, bro” Luigi now just fully felt bad, as he wrapped an arm around his brother, trying to comfort him “I get that it can be hard to deal with these feelings-”

“Mario thought he could only love spaghetti” he started sobbing. Luigi looked unamused.

“...Just know I’m here to listen if you wanna talk about it, okay?” 

Mario nodded then hugged him. Good grief, he didn’t think he would need this so suddenly, just like this. He didn’t even know he could develop feelings in such an embarrassing way. He wasn’t the cool and easygoing Mario anymore, he was stupid and scared now. Sure, he could be scared but it wasn't exactly usual for him to feel this anxious. Not even Peach could make him feel that way while she was around and he still sort of liked her. He never felt like he’s fumbling a bad bitch or something, especially because that fumbling was part of their relationship in a way. However here he felt so much more, being scared he couldn’t be enough for the man he happened to fall for a little bit. Maybe it’ll just pass! That was an on and off thing with a certain someone who wasn’t Peach. And he even grew pretty casual about it too! But this… Mario was fucked. As in utterly, deeply and strongly fucked.

He sighed which drew attention from his brother.

“Mario thinks it’ll pass. Just very intense right now. Way too intense” by the end it sounded like he was whining. 

Luigi chuckled and patted his back.

“If that makes it easier to sleep at night”

Puzzles took a while, it felt like time stopped. But he came back afterall. Why did Mario feel he was gone forever? He wouldn’t leave… would he? When… When he is able to make good money he probably will.

Mario stayed oddly quiet while Luigi and Puzzles were discussing something entirely unimportant to him. It was all just noise. His head never felt so full, it felt suffocating. Uncomfortably so. So many things he had been through yet this broke him in a way he didn’t know could happen to him. He quietly got up and got himself more spaghetti to occupy himself with something. Luigi didn’t say a thing, just glanced at him. Puzzles was none the wiser about the fact that Mario wasn’t just having seconds, he was actively coping with eating. 

The day passed by. Puzzles had the job now, he would start as soon as he got back from the vacation they so suddenly invited him to. More like Mario invited him. From what little he could guess from what he saw and heard, SMG4 really didn’t like him. Not that he had a problem with that, he had every right to. He just knew it could easily make things awkward. Especially because he didn’t know what to expect. Hell, what if he ruins the whole outing? Just making it awful for everyone around…. It truly scared him. In these times, he was weirdly glad he had Mario sometimes latching onto him in his koala kind of manner. Though he did draw the line at his screen being used to watch stuff. Sure, he had so much love for television himself and all- but that was his face! And his face is there to be a face, not to just be your usual household equipment. Mario did try every so often though until he seemed to reach a breaking point with it. He was REALLY bored but he also didn’t want to bother Puzzles into… maybe even hating him. The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Mario was struggling, oscillating between being beside Puzzles or not. He finally put his foot down, abruptly leaving. Puzzles was sure puzzled by this. Staring a hole into the door, as if the door did something to him. He realised what he was doing was dumb as hell as he pushed himself up from the floor and left the room. No one was inside so he left the house to look around. He found Luigi tending to their garden in the back. It was small but really pristine and well-kept. He did know it was a passion of his so it didn’t surprise him but he thought it would be bigger.

“Anything wrong?” he must have stared because this was a question he got from Luigi.

“Oh no, not really! I was just- looking around is all. And it felt a little lonely inside.” 

Luigi hummed.

“If you want to know, Mario left to SMG4”

“Ah! I see! Not… Not that I asked it but thank you”

“Sure” Luigi said with sarcasm which Puzzles did not pick up on at all.

For a while he didn’t do much until he had quite the grand idea. He looked around the house on his own, searching for stuff to aid his idea. On his quest for a pen or pencil and paper, he found personal stuff which he didn’t mean to. Like pictures and notes about adventures they both had. He sighed, happy that they both had such an eventful life, but also feeling jealous for the very same reason. He wished that were him. He shook his head, though he couldn’t help but wonder about all those adventures as they slowly seeped into his idea, tainting it so so sweetly. And it showed. His idea wasn’t only his anymore. But he did like it. 

He started to sketch out concept shots for it as well, full of drama and plans for all sorts of lighting, camera angles, scenery, the practical effects, even ending up pondering about the sound effects, the kind of music he’d use. It’s almost like his love for filmmaking never left him.

By the time Mario got back from an adventure with SMG4 which he induced by causing problems, as he tends to from time to time, he found his room covered in a lot of doodles, with Puzzles being in the middle of it. He looked like he was consumed by it but didn’t seem bothered by it. Grinning happily and without care in his metaphorical black hole of passion. Mario found the smile rather contagious. He couldn’t help but stare at everything, taking in so much detail. Usually his head would explode over such actions, especially because there were words he had to read, or refuse to take in information but today seemed different. He took it with open arms, just like the man in the middle of this beautiful mess.

Their eyes met, shared a few moments of eye contact. The realness of it all, it was sickening and weird. Mario wished some really bad things while being so deeply enamored. Made him wish he never existed. 

Puzzles on the other hand was more confused although flustered. He didn’t think about it too much before but Mario’s opinion on him might have mattered more to him than he let on.

The stare off ended as Puzzles awkwardly spoke up.

“Uhh- hey, Mario! Are you interested in my work?”

Mario took a bit.

“Mario doesn’t know what you’re making but it looks cool”

“Oh they are just plans for scenes I was thinking about! You see, my plans are always all over the place but they always come together in the end!”

“Hmmmmmm….” Mario thought strongly “Like a puzzle”

Puzzles got flustered at the comment as it hit him. He felt stupid for not realising it sooner. He didn’t even choose it because of that, even though this was right there to justify it.

“Oh, dear, aren’t you so smart!” he laughed, slowly letting the awkwardness pass him by. 

Mario shook his head.

“Barely if ever”

“Exceptions exist just for that you know”

“Uh- Guess so? Wouldn’t know”

“Say… would you like to listen to me talk about all this?” he gestured at all his notes and sketches.

Mario thought for a bit then answered rather unusually. 

“Sure, yeah” he sat down beside Puzzles as he started going over the intricacies of building up his perfect scenes. Even having them connect so well, although a full script or story was currently not finished, they were genuinely falling into place. Such an impossible feat, working like that. No wonder he was considered a catch if he can do things like that. And Mario ate it all up. Nodding along to his words whenever he looked for validation to continue, without even thinking much about it. It just all came so unsettlingly natural. 

It felt like so much time had passed when Luigi knocked on their door and opened it, seeing Mario leaning on Puzzles while Puzzles was full of excitement talking.

Luigi giggled at the sight which alerted the 2. Although both were flustered Mario was the one who had it worse. 

“Just wanted ask you 2 if you want dinner” Luigi said as he put a hand on his hip, teasing them.

“Oh hmm dinner haha!!” Mario spoke nervously as he got up fast and ran for the kitchen. Puzzles rolled his eyes, looking a little disappointed.

“I see you’ve been working on stuff” Luigi said, pointing at all the stuff scattered on the floor.

“I’ll clean up!”

“Of course!” Luigi giggled “That’s not why I mentioned it”

“Then…?”

“It’s just great to see you have fun! Now come and eat, you probably didn’t eat all day and that’s not good”

Puzzles got up with a smile on his face. He really was having fun. Especially… when Mario joined. Although that thought was quite complex for him and one that made his head hurt, he still couldn’t wipe off the grin he got going on. He felt almost controlled by it. Not in a bad way, just in the way that he couldn’t hide his happiness at all.

They all sat down. Mario devoured food like a bottomless pit while the other 2 ate a normal amount. Mario eating was a bit too loud this time to make casual talk. The way he sounded, he might as well be choking on pasta at the rate he was taking it in his mouth, making sure he had a good mouthful. And this made him messy as all hell as well, if the absolutely disgusting noises he made weren’t enough. Luigi sometimes glanced at his brother, concerned. He did that enough for Puzzles to notice as well. 

As soon as they finished, Luigi grabbed Mario without a word, dragging him to shower. Mario was screaming about not wanting to shower. Puzzles just watched, awkwardly waving him goodbye, as if out of solidarity. And it was but Puzzles was scared if it looked like he was mocking Mario for getting forced to shower. 

He sat there awkwardly for a bit before he decided to go back to Mario’s room. He tidied up his notes and put them neatly together in a way he knew he could use it again. Order was important to him, sometimes the only thing soothing his anxieties.

He sat down on the floor, then slowly flopped over. His ever so crazy creativity going so fast before drowned out his sleepiness but now it came out full force. He thought over the day as he closed his eyes, noting his thoughts one by one. Being invited to hang out with people who he hurt before. He was scared of how that could go. He would understand if they threw him out immediately after seeing him. Hell, maybe it would be a mistake to take him at all! Even when not possessed, he was still a nuisance, not ready for the world at all. And he felt like the world wasn’t ready for him either. Maybe he’ll just choose to stay away from the others and not talk to anyone! Maybe they would even be glad. Yes. Of course. What else would be a better choice than shutting the hell up as soon as he is around people who could easily make him feel awful even just with a slightly negative glance. He would crumble if he even uttered a word. 

The door to the room opened momentarily shaking Puzzles out of his thoughts. Then fully as he saw that Mario was wearing pink pajamas with a mushroom pattern. The mushrooms had faces and looked like they were ripped from some kind of obscure children’s show. Both the top and bottom had mushrooms. What made it actually kind of funny was the miserable face Mario held. Puzzles chuckled at the sight, he found it way too silly like this.

“You like Mario’s drip?”

“Sure do” Puzzles chuckled again “It fits you well”

Mario rolled his eyes.

“What do you know, Puzzles!” He was clearly playing it up dramatically, and he was failing at even acting like it. He was grinning so much. 

Puzzles yawned.

“Well, I know the day had been long”

Mario stepped rather close to Puzzles, clearly expecting something.

Puzzles looked at him, knowing exactly what he wanted. They hadn’t spent too much time together yet but reading Mario was quickly becoming easy for him. He sighed as he got up.

“Okay, but I’m gonna shower first”

Mario sat down, looking up at him with big puppy eyes.

Puzzles groaned at the sight, was it convincing? Absolutely. Was he gonna practice self control for the sake of not only himself but his hygiene? Also yes.

“After I shower I’m yours all night just stop making that face”

Mario nodded. Puzzles left.

Mario was left to his now mildly filled head. It was bouncing thoughts so awfully. He wished he could think about pasta forever but sadly that wasn’t possible for him. Even before, but now even less. It felt like his head from comfortable silence went to experience white noise. Ever so constant, out of nowhere too. He couldn’t say he fully hated it though. Every once in a while, he just wanted to embrace it so strongly, with his whole body, just the amount of passion he felt even just the thought of expressing it shook him sober. Sober on the idea that he genuinely gained feelings for someone like Puzzles. He didn’t like feeling this aware.

Puzzles came back, Mario’s cloud of soberness immediately dissipated into a different world as he latched onto Puzzles. Puzzles felt a little hot over it. At least he could blame it on the hot shower he took.

“Not wasting a single moment, huh?” he teased Mario, kind of half intentionally. Lot of mixed feelings about it but he didn’t want it to end. It was actually kind of nice.And being sleepy did make him clingier as well.

“Nuh-uh”

Puzzles chuckled as he held Mario in his arms while he laid down.

“Say…” Mario started, looking up at Puzzles.

“Hm?”

“Would you like to come over tomorrow to SMG4’s as well?”

“I- I’m not sure he would like that”

“C’mon! I’ll convince him”

“I- I don’t even know what I would say when I’m there. Doesn't everyone else in your friend group hate me? I did bad things so it would be only fair”

“Times are changing, TV man!” Mario playfully booped Puzzles.

“Are you sure?”

“It would also be good to test the grounds before the vacation”

“Test the grounds, huh? I’ll say… I like the way you think”

Mario seemed to freeze. 

“You good, Mario?”

“You got Mario confused… what thinking did he do?”

Puzzles was looking at him, kind of confused but more disappointed.

“C’mon, Mario, I know those braincells of yours can work out some beautiful things. I’ve seen it”

Mario blushed at the compliment but played it off.

“But Mario got no braincells, only himself! That was all Mario original”

Puzzles couldn’t help it, he laughed at the silly joke.

“You know what, just for that, I’ll go with you tomorrow, just make sure you help out if things get bad”

“Yay! Mario will be your cool white knight”

Puzzles couldn’t help the smile that was growing on his screen just thinking about that.

“Alright. Now sleep”

They slowly fell asleep, in such a sure place. Sure as in right. Might be just the weird feelings in them but it felt like their bond strengthened. Maybe they could even take over the world with what they got. God damn it, good for them! Good for them.

The next morning rose, along with Puzzles first this time. He wanted to get Mario off of himself so he could dress up, considering he was in his pajamas. He actually didn’t like loose fitting clothing like this too much on himself. Sure, they were more comfortable to sleep in but that didn’t mean he would like them.

But by GOD, he didn’t have the heart to wake Mario like this. He could imagine the expression he would pull on him if he tried. And that expression is deeply dangerous!

So all he could do was lie there, taking it as if it was a punishment. He wasn’t necessarily that miserable though.

After a while of lying there, he made up his mind. He REALLY wanted to get dressed. And of course, he was right. He got the most sad puppy look of Mario.

“Please just let me dress up”

Mario whined but let go of Puzzles, letting him grab his stuff and then leave to dress in the bathroom.

Mario was looking at the door until Puzzles appeared again. Lucky for himself, he was too sleepy yet to have further thought. All he knew was that he was already missing the warmth. As soon as he was back, Puzzles opened his arms for Mario to come back to.

It wasn’t exactly the same but it still satiated him.

“You know, I never would’ve guessed you would be clingy” Puzzles noted casually while getting his notes out of where he put them to make sure they still made sense. 

“Oh, Mario’s been this way… he would often sleep at SMG4’s for this reason”

“You… would cuddle SMG4?”

“Yes. Anything wrong with it?”

“No, I was just cur-”

“Maybe jealous?”

Puzzles lit red at the accusation.

“I’m not jealous! Don’t be ridiculous!” 

Mario laughed. 

“Mario believes you”

“Thank you”

Puzzles went back to sorting his notes again, although still a bit bothered.  The more he thought about it, he DID feel a bit jealous. And he felt so stupid for it. He shouldn’t even have the audacity to feel that way. 

Mario clinging onto him did sooth the silly thoughts he didn’t want to have. 

Mario let his grip loosen as he turned to the notes. He was looking at them pretty intently.

Puzzles noticed as well.

“Anything wrong, Mario?”

“Just…. this” he pointed at one of the notes which was detailing a character of the movie Puzzles was working on. It was the protagonist.

“Yes?”

“You were saying this character doesn’t have a motive to do things he does yet”

“Yeah?” Puzzles was puzzled by the verbose thoughts from Mario but listened nonetheless.

“A great motivation would be love. For this character” he pointed at another character, it was actually the secondary protagonist “You said you want this character to be more goofy but I think it would make it interesting if these 2 had something more going on. Especially because you could also show a motive for the murder in act 3. Maybe just make that character a little worse and there!”

Puzzles was staring at Mario. Oh, his mind was full of so many thoughts. And he looked so…. Uhuh, Puzzles, what were you thinking there? 

“That… Actually works pretty well. Hell, it could even work as a twist at the end! So unexpected that the comedic character could end up as the motivator. That they were… always meant to be lovers”

“Even better” Mario laughed “Better write it down”

Puzzles hummed.

“Now Mario’s gonna get breakfast”

“Have a great feast” Puzzles teased Mario.

“Mmmmm feast” Mario walked out with a silly smile on his face, thinking about how big a feast can get. Since this was about Mario, probably very big.

Puzzles looked over his notes and corrected over with the new detail where he saw fit. With a few corrections, the story really felt more whole now. Something about the fact that Mario helped him with it also made him love it more. He wondered if he was supposed to feel bad about that. He and Mario didn’t know each other for too long yet so… would it be… would it be bad to say…

Puzzles shook his head as he clumsily reassembled his notes and hastily put them away as he went outside. Why was this so hard to think about?

He left the room to see Mario indeed finished his feast at this point. He was actually lying down on the floor at this point.

Puzzles looked down at Mario confused.

“Mario’s coping” he said weakly.

Puzzles chuckled, smiling down at him.

“Understandable”

They gazed into each other’s eyes until Luigi disturbed them. 

“Puzzles, I have a lot of work around here, can you help? I’d ask Mario but I don’t know-”

“Mario was planning to go to SMG4! WITH Mr Puzzles too!”

Luigi sighed.

“Can you help me with this at least?” Luigi almost pleaded to Puzzles.

“But of course”

“Hmph” Mario stumped off, making sure he’s very far from housework.

“He can be quite a handful sometimes” Luigi sighed again.

“But of course” Puzzles said, chuckling.

Luigi watched him catiously, while still cleaning another dirty plate left by Mario’s Mario-sized feast.

“You like him a lot, huh?”

Puzzles seemed to go into deep thought as he thought over that. 

“I guess so… in some ways”

“Some ways?” Luigi seemed puzzled by the Puzzle himself.

“I… do like spending time with him. He can be nice… my opinion can always change though! I could always… end up hating him”

“Hey I get that. Having any kind of relation with Mario isn’t exactly the easiest thing. He IS hard to handle and can be awful to handle- he can do awful things, sometimes even just to spite you. But when he doesn’t do that I do think he’s worth it. I wouldn’t have anyone else as my brother”

“That’s sweet, Luigi… I just don’t know if I’ll last beside him…”

“Oh?”

“It’s just- maybe I… I don’t know…” Puzzles got rather quiet by the end.

“If you’re scared Mario doesn’t like you, I can assure you he does. He doesn’t exactly latch onto people just like that”

Puzzles felt his screen heat up over the mention of the clinginess Mario could prosper in.

“Okay…”

“Is that all?”

“No… It’s very hard to get back to- everything. And I- never had a real friend before. Even before the- possession, I didn’t focus on it as much as I should have”

“Well… then you just have to be patient. I think you know things will be hard and that shouldn’t stop you”

“Right…. thanks, Luigi”

“Anytime”

“I’m also uh…. I also wanna ask for advice. Because I was convinced to tag along with Mario to SMG4’s and I…”

“You’re scared the crew is gonna hate you?”

“Yeah…”

“I get that, I’d be scared if I were you too. Some of them can be hard headed. But they can be really kind too. If you just act like yourself I think you should be fine”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They might make fun of you but they do that to each other all the time. You should’ve seen how SMG3 and SMG4 were before- But they still all love each other, so who's to say they couldn’t love you too?”

“Mhmm… Yea, you’re making a lot of sense”

“I know. I’m sure you’ll do fine. With Mario as well”

“Thank you, Luigi. Now I’ll feel forever indebted to you”

“Oh you” 

After they finished with the dishes, Puzzles went to get Mario so they could go to SMG4’s. 

He wasn’t in his room.

“Mario?” he called out for him “There aren’t more dishes left, we can go”

No answer.

Panic set.

It’ll be okay! It’ll be so. Fine.

“Mario, please?”

He waited in the room.

“This isn’t the time for games, please”

He paced in the room before leaving the room. He went to Luigi.

“I can’t find him”

“Mario? Hmm” 

Luigi went to the front door. He opened it. He took a big breath in. Puzzles watched in anticipation. 

“MAAARIIIOOOOOOOOOO” he shouted, he sounded amplified,, Puzzles swore he could feel the vibrations of his voice. It must carry far if it was this loud for him. How the hell did he do that? Some kind of Mario brothers gimmick or something? He wasn’t sure.

A worried Mario showed up, seemingly coming from the road he’d take to SMG4’s. Even though he was nervous, Puzzles’s heart sank. Did he not want to bring him along? Maybe he really was a burden.

“Mario! You left Puzzles here!”

Mario froze.

“Oh-” 

Puzzles didn’t say a word.

Mario collected his thoughts.

“Sorry- You still want to come?”

“Sure” Puzzles said, sounding rather defeated.

The 2 set off, Luigi could finally relax while 2 were to fight off tension.

They were silent for a while then, Puzzles not even looking Mario’s way.

“Hey… I’m sorry if I upset you. I… didn’t mean to just- ran after my empty head-”

“I thought you didn’t wanna bring me”

“What?? Why else would Mario ask you??”

“I… I don’t know, to take pity on me?”

“Mario doesn’t take pity”

“But.. you took me in as well-”

“Because Mario finds you cool!”

Puzzles felt himself getting hotter over the compliment.

“You think so?”

“Of course!”

“Well, I… I think you’re cool too” Puzzles chuckled with a lovestruck expression. 

Mario never felt so in love. Damn it.

He jumped up and hugged Puzzles, which halted him as he didn’t want to fall over. He stood for a bit before Mario spoke up, looking up at Puzzles with big puppy eyes.

“Can Mario stay here?”

Puzzles chuckled, trying to stifle his embarrassment with little success.

“Sure, but we’ll keep going”

“Good with Mario”

Puzzles went on, with Mario wrapped on him. He held him with one arm while letting the other relax by his side, following the rhythm of his stride as he followed the path to SMG4’s.

By the time they got there, both got rather used to the contact. It was hard to deny it was rather comfortable.

He saw some of the crew outside, seemingly discussing something. It was Meggy, SMG3 and SMG4, with Eggdog and Beeg there. They noticed the 2. 4 immediately went back to the discussion while the other 2 waved at them. He waved back awkwardly.

“We’re here?” Mario asked.

“We sure are… Do you want to get off?”

“Well, if Mario needs to…” Mario reluctantly loosened his grip on Puzzles, landing on his feet without trouble.

 Mario walked ahead and Puzzles followed behind, still an air of awkwardness with him. The glance 4 took at him alone brought back all the anxiety he was feeling before. 

“Hey you 2!” Meggy greeted the 2. 

“Didn’t know Puzzles was coming today as well, good to see you though” 3 said, while carefully looking to 4 too. He knew something was going on with him. Puzzles understood what he was getting.

“Hi” 4 said as he turned around, only one glance at Puzzles then looking at Mario. Even that single glance burned him.

“Mario, remember when we were talking about an event idea for 3’s café?”

They started talking about something Puzzles couldn’t contribute to. So he just stood there awkwardly. Not wanting to go anywhere because he didn’t want to leave Mario’s side but also wanted to leave so badly because he was feeling so awkward. And it definitely didn’t help that he was also really tall compared to the others. Really made him feel like he was never meant to fit in. He wished he could sink into the floor until he felt someone poke him on his forearm. He turned around to see Tari.

“Hi” she said, with a look of understanding. 

“Hey?” he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“You weren’t here before so I was wondering how good you are at games!” she said, already dragging him along. 

“Oh! Sure!” 

Mario looked at him.

“Okay! Happy gaming for you!”

Tari brought Puzzles inside, letting him take a seat on the couch in the gaming room.

“Okay… Puzzles” she looked at him with certain firmness, a sort of care “You looked like a shaking leaf. Sorry if I- appeared suddenly, I just wanted to help you out. You don’t need to game if you don’t want to”

“Uh- Thanks, Tari. I want to try at least. Just be gentle heh” he chuckled.

“But only this time”

Tari brought up Smash and showed Puzzles the controls and showed off stuff in game as well. Letting him get used to it, he didn’t play super awful. He didn’t win a single time but he did put up a good fight. 

“Sorry, Puzzles” Tari was feeling bad “It’s really hard to turn my gamer brain off. You could try fighting against a bot?”

“A bot?”

“Yeah. It’s a player controlled by the game”

“Sounds good”

They played for a while until Meggy appeared there too.

“Gaming going well?” she asked as she sat beside Tari.

“Sure is” Puzzles smiled “I didn’t know games could be so much fun”

“And this is only one! We have quite a few more here. I also have other games I sometimes bring over” Tari cheered.

“By the way” Meggy spoke more quietly “Sorry I couldn’t help you out, Puzzles. I wanted to but the talk of the café event was pretty important too.

“No worries. What’s it gonna be?”

“We’re still in the idea phase. Maid event came up but 3 shot it down”

“Maids, huh? I’d prefer butler” Tari said.

“To dress as one or to be served by one?” Meggy asked.

“Both” Tari giggled.

“Well, now I want to be a butler for it. Maybe I’ll mention that to 3.

“Oh, yeah, how did you manage to get away?”

Meggy took a bit to reply.

“Well… 4 wanted to talk to Mario privately”

Both girls hummed while Puzzles froze.

“Oh, I hope it’s nothing bad”

It was something bad, Mario could feel as he followed 4, rather quietly. It felt like if he tried anything he would be killed on sight.

“So” 4 sat down on his bed, patting the spot beside him for Mario to sit down. Mario hesitated but sat down.

“Did Mario do something wrong?”

“I’ll decide that when I know more. You are pretty clingy with him, huh?”

Mario turned red. Not only did this feel like an interrogation, it was also about his maybe-kinda-probably crush.

“Guess so” he looked away.

“Did he do something to you? Hurt you? Manipulate you? Why are you letting him live with you?”

“Mario just… wanted to be kind”

“That can’t be it. You can tell me if he tried to threaten you”

“But he didn’t! He’s actually really nice”

4 didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

“He must have gotten to you badly”

“Oh, awfully” Mario flushed at the thought. 

4 wasn’t happy.

“You like him or something??” he asked, anger dripping out of his words.

The longer Mario didn’t reply the more sure 4 was.

“I can’t believe you. We don’t even know if we can REALLY trust him!”

“You’re not even giving him a chance!”

“You wouldn’t either if you knew what I went through because of him!”

“You would if you knew what happened in the void!”

“Shut up! He probably manipulated you then as well!”

“Why are you so insistent? Are you jealous or something?!”

“I just want to protect you” 4 sighed, lowering his voice “You’re important to me, Mario. You’re my best friend”

Mario didn’t know how to reply as he left the room, tears falling from his eyes.

“Wait!” 4 ran after him.

The 3 in the gaming room heard Mario leave. Puzzles felt it in his soul. He was terribly sad. And scared. 

“We have to check on him. He’s doing awful” Puzzles said.

The 2 girls followed him. They went to Mario outside but 4 was still trying to catch him.

“It’s gonna be worse if he betrays you when you like him” 4 shouted after Mario. He didn’t realise the other 3 were there.

Meggy ran up beside 4, grabbing him by the shoulder with force.

“You’re just making him more upset! This won’t make anything better!!”

“But what if he tries something?? He can’t-”

“Yeah, what if I try something?” Puzzles spoke up, while looking down. He wasn’t being silly, he felt scared. 

“It’s like he’s confessing to a crime right now!! Can he really be trusted??”

“Is it too far-fetched to say someone could redeem himself? Or did you never actually trust SMG3?” Mario spoke up, rather angry at 4. Throwing words he might not mean later but he was so angry. It engulfed him and Puzzles too. Puzzles could feel it burn, he was so mad. 

“That’s fucking different!” 4 lunged at him after prolonged silence. 

“And how so?? Do you have proof??” 

“Why would you say something like this about someone like him??”

“Because you speak like that about Puzzles”

“Because- UGH” 4 gave up as he walked away, leaving without another word. His aura somehow seemed to remain though as the 4 of them couldn’t say a word for a while now.

Mario was the first one to do anything, he walked up to Puzzles and held one of his hands in his.

“I trust you, don’t worry” he looked up at him, showing a hopeful smile. Puzzles smiled back.

“Thank you. At least someone… believes that”

“Hey, we believe in you too!” Tari said.

“Yeah! We’re here for you, Puzzles. Even if you did bad things in the past”

“I guess… SMG4 just doesn’t forgive. But honestly I get it. I did awful things. Then again I helped him get with SMG3-” he joked lightly. Mario chuckled at it.

“In a weird way, yeah” Meggy and Tari chuckled too.

Puzzles was glad his silly moment was a hit with the crowd. Good grade for socialisation. 

“But back to it. You’re right… it seems he doesn’t forgive easily. I’m sorry if this made things hard for you” Meggy apologised for 4. 

“You don’t need to be sorry!” Puzzles reassured her “I just hope he’ll be able to calm down. I… I don’t hate him”

“Puzzles is right, we can’t apologise for someone else. 4 will have to do that himself” Tari reassured Meggy, who earned a smile in return.

“By the way, we could go back to gaming” Puzzles suggested.

“Let’s go gaming!!” Mario cheered.

The 4 went back inside to keep playing fun games.

4 paced in his room, starting to doubt stuff. He swore he was right, he was so sure he was right. This man, he knew, he had wicked plans. Wicked plans to ruin people. He almost ruined SMG3, his world, he almost ruined his world for good. It made him so angry. The idea that he could lose his best friend that… that monster. It made him so angry. He wanted nothing more than to cut him out of their life. He wished he didn’t exist at all. So nobody would’ve gotten hurt by his schemes, let that be trauma from being killed several times, risk of losing your privacy, losing oneself to perfection, losing oneself to self loathing and the idea that you’re not enough. He had an impressive collection of things he had done and he didn’t understand how anyone could trust him. How Mario seemed to adore him so much…

Did… Did Mario fall in love with Puzzles?

No… No way. He would act differently about that. He was just… Maybe Mario is playing 4D chess with Puzzles. Sure.

Stop lying to yourself, SMG4. You know very well that you are just trying to make yourself feel better because you can’t cope with the things that happened to you. You’re lashing out because you feel alienated. But you don’t know that. You can’t put it into words. All you know is that you hate Puzzles.

You hate him so much.

He paced around a little more. It was so unfair. Why did it only have to be him?

He left the castle, walking. Just walking. Somehow ending up right back in the café.

“Hey, where were you bl- Oh my god” 3 reacted accordingly to how 4 looked. He looked so messed up.

3 dragged him away to fix him up as much as he could.

“You can’t be serious” 3 whined.

“It’s not fair” it was all 4 could say.

“What’s not fair? I’ll listen” 3 said, cupping 4’s face. But instead of saying anything he burst into tears. 

3 hugged 4, not really caring much about someone screaming outside to order.

“There there…I’m guessing this is about Mr Puzzles”

“Yeah…” 4 said, kind of ashamed in a way. It was hard to deal with the fact that no one else seemed to care.

“You know… I don’t like him too much either but… I don’t really want to concentrate on it. I’d rather give him space to improve than to… push him into new villainy.”

“But… He could take Mario from us… What would I…. Would I be a good friend if I lost him just like that, because I let things happen?”

“Blue, you’re making things worse right now… I bet Mario isn’t happy about this either. And he can fend for himself. Don’t take the guardian part of your name this seriously”

“But I… 3…” 4 seemed to press on.

3 hugged him tighter.

“I’m hugging the worry out of you, 4”

4 chuckled.

“You’re being so silly right now”

“And you’re smiling about it. It’s working.”

“You know you could… do something else to get the worry out of me…”

3 was staring at 4. 4 was staring at 3 with an emotion he identified way too quickly.

“Shush… Don’t tempt me right now. After work you can”

“Bummer”

3 gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Too bad! Now work, slave” he said jokingly as he then left outside to finally take the yelling costumer’s order.

4 sighed, getting himself together. He couldn’t fail 3. He already did bad enough today.

The day went by rather decently. Even if the feelings didn’t leave. They festered in their minds. Almost unkillable. With so much guilt. Rage. Anxiety. Love. So much.

Hard to bear. Too hard.

The night grew closer. Mario excused himself for a walk from gaming. 

It felt like he was in a bubble. The world felt unreal around him. So many things happening. Weighing on him. He didn’t want any of this. He wondered if he deserved it anyways. Pain. Pain. Pain. Love. Pain. Guilt. Pain. Sadness. Love. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

Guilt.

He ran and ran until he felt his soul reach back to Earth. He looked around, it was dark. Just a dark night. It was comforting. He sat down in the grass looking up at the sky. Being alone was like medicine. Sure, he enjoyed his time playing with his friends as well. Especially with Puzzles. He actually managed to beat Mario in smash because he got distracted with him. He may have a competitive heart but it’s also really stupid. Nevertheless, the grin and cheer of Puzzles made it feel like Mario won instead. Won guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt.

Was it his fault that SMG4 was acting that way? How could he ever make sure this didn’t happen again? He cared so much about him. He wanted to make things better for him so badly. 

Love.

Puzzles. He… 

Guilt.

He couldn’t ever hurt him. Even if he was forced, he’d fail to. 

So there’s only one person he could actually hurt.

He went back inside. The thought not leaving his mind. 

But he pretended. He pretended he was fine. But it was eating him up.

There was only one person he could actually hurt. For the benefit of his best friend.

And nobody noticed a thing. 

He went back home with Puzzles.  Nobody noticed.

He got home and had a shower. And still, nobody noticed. 

He told Puzzles he’d be back after a midnight snack. He still didn’t seem to notice.

Mario left the room. With steps that felt heavy but were lighter than a feather. He didn’t need Luigi to know. He took all sharp utensils out of the drawers. cutting himself in the process. It hurt.

But it didn’t do a thing. It was like the scene changed and his hands weren’t even hurt now. As pristine as ever. he bashed his hands on as many sharp edges as possible. Hoping for something to stick but nothing. It was like the world was against him hurting himself.

He cursed to himself as he tried again and again. While his hands didn’t retain even a sign of hurt, his blood still remained. Odd. He did feel a bit light headed. He tried to stab himself as well, in as many places as he could think of but it all yielded the same result of nothing truly sticking. But that might have been from him concentrating so hard on hurting himself. To get him out of this hell he put himself into. He made a big mistake. If only he waited enough inside that void for the meme guardians to save him. If only he didn’t feel a sort of kinship. If only he didn’t start liking Puzzles. If only it was so easy to cut him out of his life. If it was only so easy to make SMG4 happy. If it was only so easy for Mario to be happy. To not worry. To not feel guilty. To not feel like the cause of everything bad happening.

He felt frustrated, not knowing what he could use.

Puzzles appeared, soft light coming from his room as Puzzles seemed to turn on a smaller one. It gave him a glow. Like a saviour.

“Mario? What are you doing?” Puzzles asked, trying to keep back just how worried he was.

Mario didn’t react.

If only he didn’t take out the piece. If only he didn’t feel bad for it.

The piece…

The piece. 

Mario, without a word, bolted for the door, leaving in record speed. Puzzles went after him.

He ran after him as much as he could. But he couldn’t keep up.

He cried, holding it right at the scar. The ties. It hurt. It hurt from the pain Mario felt.

Puzzles locked eyes with the ground, concentrating. The energy, he felt it connecting the 2 of them. He searched in it. A blinding power. 

And he concentrated on it further. He wanted this to be over so badly it brought physical results.

He stopped Mario in his tracks. With only his mind. He finally managed to catch up and catch Mario in his arms.

Puzzles felt warm and comforting. The light was still strong but slowly dimmed as Puzzles held Mario in his arms.

They didn’t need to speak a word. Mario tightly hugged back, crying into Puzzles’s shoulder. 

They were there for a while. 

Just in each other’s arms, settled in silence. They understood. As much they could.

Mario’s sniffles slowly calmed down. Puzzles got up, with his arms still wrapped around Mario as he began to walk back right to their room.

Even the walk was silent but both sure were thinking. Especially as they passed by the painful red reminder. Puzzles felt like he got there too late. That he should’ve listened to the signs earlier. At least he still caught Mario from doing something bad. 

They got in their room. Puzzles settled down.

“Listen…” Puzzles started carefully “You don’t need to explain yourself if you don’t want to. That’s fine. I know you’re going through a lot I can feel it and I’m sorry… I wish I could help you more. You… helped me and… here I am… making life hell for you…”

Mario grabbed Puzzles’s head. He had a rather firm grip. They were looking at each other.

Puzzles still had that guilty look.

“I’m really sorry, Mario I-”

But before he could say another word, Mario pressed a kiss on Puzzles’s screen, immediately shutting him up. 

“You’re so much, Puzzles”

Puzzles didn’t even know what to say, his screen was just increasingly heating up. In fact he was way too hot. Mario took his hand away from his face as even through his gloves he could feel the heat becoming too hot.

“Ouch, you could fry an egg on your face” Mario tried to joke. 

Puzzles seemed frozen until he slammed Mario down and held him. He held him so hard. Something about that just made him open up more than anything else. He felt like his soul was ripped open and it felt better than anything he ever felt. 

Mario felt a bit helpless under the weight of Puzzles. Not that he minded. It was actually kind of comfortable. 

Mario wondered what SMG4 would think.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, Puzzles rose up, straddling Mario, face to face.

“What are you thinking?” Puzzles asked, a sort of carefulness carrying in his tone. Showing how cautious he was but especially just how much he cared.

Mario felt hot himself, which was obvious as Puzzles screen wasn’t exactly dim enough to hide that.

“I want you”

That stopped both. Now you’ve done it!

The 2 just stared at each other.

“I need you” Puzzles one upped the other, leaning a little closer. 

This felt like a dream.

Mario pulled Puzzles’s head down enough to press another kiss on it. 

How could this feel so natural? Brain in havoc.

As another kiss. Another move. The comfortable pressure. A bite.

A bite?

A bite into the neck. But a gentle one at Puzzles’s neck, which slowly intensified. It was like Mario knew exactly how to get to him. It felt like this could escalate further before Puzzles stopped Mario from another silly little move up his sleeve.

“We should sleep…” he said.

“But…” Mario looked at him with the biggest eyes.

“No buts” he sounded a little cranky.

“I love you”

Oh. Oh alright. That really did it. Well, no stopping now!

They slept in for quite a bit. Sure wonder why.

Luigi decided not to bother them, considering some… things he heard in the night while passing by to go to the bathroom. Better not to bother them.

They took a while to wake up but first Mario did. At least he got time to admire Puzzles in a different way… At least as much as he could from where he was, locked in the hold of him. Honestly, he looked a bit more freaky in the light seeping in but that honestly just made Mario adore him more. With a body that looked so machine yet bore scars that felt like flesh. Maybe part of the reason he didn’t want to show skin. He didn’t know something like that was possible. Adoring Puzzles even more, especially so openly. I mean after what happened… would be a little concerning if he wasn’t… Or at least confusing.

While he could admire Puzzles till the heat death of the universe, Puzzles stirred at some point too.

“Morning, Mar” he said, still kinda sleepy.

“Mar? I like that” 

“Mhmm…” Puzzles cleared his screen a bit, as if to wash the sleepiness away. As he took in his surroundings more, he felt the heat… his fans could barely keep up.

“I-I thought I dreamed that” 

“I’m happy you didn’t”

“Yeah….… me too… sure did feel like a dream too… I… felt like I wasn’t fully… in control? I don’t know”

Mario grinned.

“That’s one way to describe wanting Mario so badly”

Puzzles blushed.

“You’ve no shame!”

Mario laughed at the response.

“You’re not wrong”

Puzzles got up and started dressing up. Mario couldn’t resist looking. Even doing the fuckboy expression, biting his lip.

But when Puzzles looked at him he looked away, as if he was innocent. They continued this until Puzzles looked at Mario rather annoyed and half dressed.

“I know you’re staring at me! You don’t need to”

Mario looked down, a lovestruck grin on his face.

“Mario can’t help it. You’re nice to look at”

“Am… Am I?”

“Yeah” Mario trailed off, slowly caressing Puzzles’s calf that was closer to him

He almost gave in again. 

“No! We have to prepare! We have a whole trip to go on!”

“Buuut Mario loves youuu!!”

“Not gonna work this time. Love you too though”

Puzzles seemed to be able to finally get dressed while Mario was melting on the floor. Melting with love. That’s all that was in his head. Nothing else right now. If only that could last forever.

Mario got up, grabbing stuff to dress up as well.

Puzzles was staring at his back.

“Ayo? And you shame Mario for staring?”

Puzzles brushed it off, reaching to a spot on Mario’s back. It looked burnt but in technicolour. It stung, pain coursing through Mario’s body.

“Does this hurt?”

Mario cried out as he fell over but it was too comical to take it seriously.

“Oh I’m sorry, dear! I didn’t know I ended up hurting you!”

“It’s fine!! Mario’s fine!” he got up “Mario will just..- continue on without a shirt for now”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry though. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all” he cupped Mario’s face in his hands. Mario leaned into it.

“You’re really affectionate with Mario now” he grinned so hard about it, even Puzzles couldn’t interpret this in a negative way. If he did, he’d have to be an idiot for that. And one bigger than Mario at that.

“Is that a problem? I’ll stop” he grinned, teasing Mario as he took his hands back.

Mario huffed in response.

“Mario loves affection… Mario loves you” the shyness compared to his previous behaviour- the difference was staggering! Puzzles found him adorable either way. Oh, wasn’t he such a weird combination of lovestarved and a hopeless romantic for this silly italian? Maybe it’s not exactly like in TV but he would lie if he said he wasn’t happy. He hoped nothing would come between them. He really did hope.

Maybe a tiny bit of worry in the back of his mind. Just the sliver of a chance that something could go terribly wrong. 

“Well, time to pack” Puzzles got up after thinking for a while. Mario looked at him like he was expecting something.

“What?” he asked.

“You forgot to say it back…”

Puzzles sighed and raised Mario up in the air by his armpits.

“I love you too, silly man”

The new name Mario got for himself visibly flustered him. Though that quickly turned into joy.

“Mario IS silly!! The silliest!!”

“And do you know what silliest men do?”

“Love their TV men?”

Puzzles chuckled.

“Maybe. But packing for vacation first and foremost”

Mario sighed.

“Okayy” 

Puzzles put him down.

Puzzles started to pack for himself, taking his sweet time making sure his stuff is as compact and perfectly packed as possible. So good in fact that Tetris players would be jealous of his skills. He laughed at his little joke in his head. He was SO smart. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Maybe what they did yesterday- really eased him up. Which was a good thing. He was kind of happy to have Mario, whatever that meant for the both of them.

As he finished, he noticed Mario struggling with it. He seemed to panic. 

“Dear, are you not good at packing?” Puzzles sat beside him, looking to see he indeed had quite the mess in his suitcase.

“Luigi usually does it for Mario” Mario said, feeling a little ashamed.

“Hey, I’ll help you! I’ve already done mine”

And so Puzzles basically packed for Mario as well. Just as neatly as for himself. Mario watched each hand movement and gesture Puzzles did, like a cat trying to calculate when to pounce.

Mario grew impatient and reached out quickly, grabbing Puzzles’s hand.

Puzzles wasn’t sure how to react for a second. This wasn’t anything strange from Mario to him but he did catch him off guard. 

“Mar, dear… we can hold hands later”

Mario looked at him like a sad wet puppy. Puzzles sighed and grabbed him, placing in his lap. Mario gratefully took it as his rightful place, while Puzzles continued packing with some trouble while trying to inquire what else Mario needed. Who knew a man in his lap could be so distracting. He wasn’t sure if he was fully comfortable but it was also way too nice. He liked the closeness and all. But the weight felt strange and alien to him still. He didn’t know before how he exactly imagined cuddling but the weight was definitely something to him. Just a constant reminder of a presence to him. He was used to feeling lonely. Just because he was brainwashed it didn’t mean he forgot about that. So this presence… In general, as it had been in these past few days, the moment Mario took that piece out of him as well. He swore he felt this all was meant to happen when all that went down. He may have gone a bit crazy but… can you REALLY blame him?

They got done, they went out, seeing Luigi had packed everything else they needed for the somewhat short trip. He stared at the other 2, knowing, especially at Mario, considering he didn’t have a shirt on.

“Mario, do you plan to dress up?”

“Mario’s back really hurts, he can’t” he whined.

“It can’t be that bad- OH MY GOD” Luigi freaked out when he saw it “how did this happen??”

“I… I can’t recall right now…. could’ve been anything” Puzzles said, with little confidence. He didn’t lie but he wasn’t actually trying to be sincere either.

“I’ll see what I can do for your back” Luigi took Mario to the bathroom. Puzzles watched helplessly. He didn’t exactly want to get involved, as much as this was his fault.

He felt bad about it, awful even. He let one person get close to him and it felt like he already ruined it. Maybe now Mario is really only with him out of pity. Who would want to be around someone who hurt them? Especially at such a vulnerable time. He didn’t want the thought to fester. He really didn’t want to. But it did, like a virus, he could feel it in all that was left of his nervous system.

He wondered if he even deserved Mario in the first place. Or if he maybe only brought Mario suffering. And he still felt out of place. How could he fit into a tight knit group of friends anyways? 

And just as he got so deep, the brothers made it back, Mario looking grumpy with a shirt on while Luigi felt a little tired.

“Alright, let’s get going to SMG4’s, we’ll be late at this rate” Luigi said.

Puzzles carried the heaviest suitcases because he was actually the strongest of the 3 but also he just really wanted to occupy himself. And so he was quiet. And he didn’t say a thing about it but Mario noticed. And he didn’t like the silence coming from Puzzles. He wasn’t a therapist or anything but it didn’t exactly feel pleasant or nice. But he brushed it off for now. He just hoped he could make Puzzles feel better in some way or another. Probably in a way that doesn’t end up with him getting more toxic goop on himself that made his skin burn. He didn’t realise it yesterday but Puzzles felt… acidic? Weird stuff.

After a walk that felt longer than it should, they got to the crew. Everyone seemed ready and  were waiting for them. Nobody really felt negative outwardly about this except for 4. Though, he seemed to hold back, with 3 close to him. Puzzles felt this wasn’t going to be the easiest time. 

They got into a bus they rented for this. At least Puzzles was told it was rented but who knows with these guys. Not that he was really that against a bit of crime but he would rather be aware if he was made an accomplice in something like that.

What made him think that was the fact that there was a driver inside but they didn’t look very happy about having to do this. In fact, they looked rather scared. Puzzles decided to push the thought aside as he ascended on the bus the best he could with his tall build.

He sat beside Mario, Luigi went to talk with the others. Puzzles sat by the window. Due to the length of his legs, he actually took up 2 seats and Mario was kind of sitting on his leg. Not that he needed to, there would’ve been space for him elsewhere. But it seemed Mario was visibly very stubborn about sitting with Puzzles. 4 was increasingly bothered by this. 3 grew tired of this at this point, talking with Meggy and Tari instead. 

It was quite the long trip, it was a few hours. It was long with the emotions it had to drag with itself. It felt like it was anchoring time down, intentionally making it harder for time to go on.

But they got there, relatively in good spirit. 4 was really bringing it down. In his obsession to protect Mario he didn’t even notice it was affecting the others as well. In fact, most of the trip, 3 was quietly talking about how annoying he was right now to Meggy and Tari. Listing the ways he had to pander to at least somewhat calm him down which soon stopped working. Though, he tried to be cool about it because he was worried too. He didn’t hate 4 for this, he knew it must be harder for him. But this was beginning to become a lot for him. As much as he loved him, with his whole heart, his mental state kind of reminded him of the perfect incident. It really scared him. Especially because what if something similar happened to him like then. With someone evil enough to take advantage of the situation. And make their life hell.

Regardless, they were there now, packing out to a rather large apartment type of building by the beach. It had enough rooms to house everyone. Luigi kindly asked to be in a different room from Mario and Puzzles, which left the crew questioning for a second. Regardless, he somehow ended up with Saiko and Melony.

They took out the guest bed for him. He put his stuff down neatly.

“So, how come you didn’t want to stay with Mario this time?” Saiko asked, suspicious of this. Melony was sitting on the bed while sorting out her suitcase to take her laptop out she brought for the trip. She was listening though.

“Ah well…” Luigi sighed, a bit annoyed.

“It can’t be that bad” 

“I’m pretty sure they had sex yesterday night”

That shocked both girls, even Melony looked up from the stuff she pulled up to sift through. She recently got into hacktivism to pass the time so it was related to that. Some kind of an article from someone she looked up to.

“Are- Are you sure??”

“Yeah. I kind of- heard them. I OBVIOUSLY didn’t want to” he sighed again. It wasn’t the fact that he found it weird or bad but it was still kind of mind boggling to think about. Especially because just before Mario was crying to him about crushing on Puzzles and now this? Things moved fast with these 2.

“Huh…” Saiko thought for a bit “I see it honestly”

“Mario did have that kind of glow to him” Melony commented which made both look at her weird.

“Nah, he actually burned his back with- whatever comes out of Puzzles’s screen. I don’t know how they did that and why but I don’t need to know”

“BURNED??” both girls yelled in unison. 

“Yeah. I actually had to treat it for him today so he could wear a shirt at least while we get here. It looked pretty rough”

“Mario and the things he gets into I swear” Saiko didn’t know whether to laugh or feel annoyed. Maybe a bit of both if she had to be honest.

“I just hope SMG4 doesn’t freak out too much if hears about this” Luigi thought out loud, concerned. Even scared for his brother.

“Why would he? It’s kind of none of his business” Melony said.

“He really seems to hate Puzzles. I don’t really get it but…”

“I’ve noticed” Saiko was annoyed too “Look, I get it, he was bad but there was a reason for that. Besides, he IS dating SMG3, he’s so unreasonable”

“I have a feeling he just wants to protect Mario but… I’m thinking he might have been doing the opposite…”

The 2 looked at him, at the brink of the worry rising in them. 

“Go on” Saiko said finally.

“I uh… woke up to a pool of blood in the kitchen. I don’t know how it got there… it… could be Mario’s…And there was no sign of struggle. Nothing knocked over or anything, just a single misplaced knife and a pool of blood… it led me to believe that he… he…”

They were looking at him shocked. Luigi finally broke down. The 2 girls scrambled to comfort him, Melony as much as she could with her laptop in her lap. They were just hoping the worst wouldn’t happen. Hopefully.

After a bit of time passed, they heard knocking at their door.

Turns out it was 4, he was gathering everyone to come down. 

The 3 tagged along, following him along with the others.

A big part of the crew was there, with the Mario brothers, the meme guardians, all 4, Melony, Saiko and Puzzles of course. Meggy and Tari decided to stay in their rooms for a bit. The bus driver seemed to vanish for some reason. As they went out they noticed Boopkins was already in there with Bob who had a bright pink donut pattern floaty. He also had those gaudy kind of sunglasses that were gold so it kind of balanced out.

Saiko slowly entered the water, helping Melony out while Mario quickly charged in the water, splashing people on the way. 4 ran after him, yelling about manners. There was something unsettling about his tone of voice but he didn’t say anything wrong. Yet it remained eerie regardless. Puzzles also silently wondered when 4 would mention Mario’s back. He was surprised he didn’t, maybe it was the reason his tone of voice felt so unsettling. Like he was expecting him to lash out again. BUT he knew 4 saw it, he saw that he saw it. And it was terrifying.

1 and 2 set up chairs and parasols so they could enjoy the beach without too much sun. They were also seemingly discussing important meme guardian business as they usually would. 

Puzzles decided to stay back, quietly, sitting just barely in the water. He didn’t want to interfere with 4 and Mario. His reaction to Mario’s back was already scary enough for him. Not even a word, just looking at him so deeply judgmentally. The thoughts reemerged, the idea that he really didn’t deserve any respect. That he deserved a life meant for loneliness and nothing else. Just like how he was before. It would probably be easier. If only Mario let him die instead, he wouldn’t need to be such a black sheep within such great people. He could have moved on from a painful life. He could’ve ended it there. it could’ve been so good.

“Oi, you don’t want to come in deeper?” 3 asked Puzzles, which shook him out of the awful thoughts.

“No… Don’t want to disturb Mar and SMG4 having fun. I think they deserve it”

3 sighed.

“You’re selfless for being lonely for so long. I would be so much more jealous”

“Jealous?”

“You obviously love him, no? I know the signs. Way too well”

Puzzles heated up at how easy he was to read.

“Oh dear… I didn’t know it was that obvious”

“So then? Don’t you just… want him by your side?”

“I… I don’t know if I deserve him” he got rather quiet.

“Blue is a dumbass, don’t let him tear you down”

“But is he really? I.. even hurt Mario”

“Hurt him?”

“Uh… Not important how”

3 stared at Puzzles. Puzzles stared back.

“Oh-.. kay but… really. I don’t get you”

“I made life harder for him. He had… an episode of sorts yesterday. He doesn’t take SMG4’s behavior well and it feels like it’s my fault… I mean if I was just… dead… he wouldn’t”

“Y’know, 4 and I cause each other problems all the time.”

“I think this is different”

“I used to try to terrorise him. We were some… awful people to each other. Worse than what you are for Mario. And we still got here. You know how?”

“No…”

“Love prevails… as much as I hated to admit it before”

“You think so?”

“Definitely. And because of you and that shitty piece of that damned box, I learned it very intimately”

“Sorry about that..”

“Thank you”

“You what now?”

“It might sound messed up but I needed that I think… We both needed it. I never realised before how stubborn 4 was actually about me. I never would’ve figured out if it didn’t get so bad. We might still be here, not dating but still painfully pining if it wasn’t for you”

“I assume you’re joking”

“No. We were a hopeless case” 3 laughed.

Puzzles reacted with chuckling as well.

“Well, I just hope I can somehow… convince 4 that I’m good enough for Mario”

“Way better way to think. I’m going in now, good luck”

3 left in, jumping on 4 and pushing him in the water with a swift and calculated move. Puzzles chuckled at the sight, especially as then they begin to playfully fight. 4 was way less freaky with a smile on his face, having fun. He almost wished that could be a sight that would look at him that way. Just a sliver of acceptance for him. 

He looked up at the sky, thinking stuff through. So many things he wanted to do. And number 1 on his list was to make 4 like him, whatever it would take. He felt like he was trying to achieve the approval of a protective father. While no, it was just his dear’s bestie.

He wondered how he could even do that. It definitely wouldn’t be him trying to show off with his skills. 4 would think he was shallow and maybe even think he was planning something worse secretly. If he poured his heart out, 4 probably wouldn’t listen either. Maybe Mario could put in a good word for him? Or the others, as much as they can. Convincing 4 that he wasn’t evil anymore was way more trouble than what his ideas could change. He sighed.

He suddenly jerked up at the sensation of someone poking his shoulder several times. It was Mario.

“What’s up, Mario?”

“You were sitting here, alone”

“I didn’t want to disturb your time with SMG4”

“Mario has space for everyone”

“SMG4 is questionable in that regard”

Mario could only sigh in response as he leaned onto Puzzles’s shoulder.

They spent time silently, it was maybe a bit too silent for Mario. It looked like he was out of energy.

“Say…” Puzzles started awkwardly after a while.

“Hm?”

“How’s… your back”

“It was totally worth it”

“That’s- That’s NOT what I asked”

“But that’s what Mario cares about”

“YOU… You’re so shameless” Puzzles couldn’t help but smile.

“Maybe. But you love Mario either way”

“I sure do”

They stayed in comfortable silence. 

Meggy and Tari finally arrived as well. Meggy had her hands behind her back, nothing suspicious. The grin on her face was definitely not suspicious as well.

She looked around, looking for the right victim to strike. She spotted the one least suspecting it: Bob, looking half asleep on his silly floaty. She aimed with precision champions would get jealous about. She then shot, water sprung out of her gun, hitting Bob just right, knocking off his glasses.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR??” he shouted, looking around for  the culprit.

Meggy and Tari were loudly laughing about this so it didn’t take a lot  for Bob to see them. 

“What, Bob? can’t handle a bit of water, eh?”

Bob didn’t reply verbally, instead he pulled out his mega deluxe golden water guns that matched his sunglasses he was so painfully separated from.

And from here, a war began as others brought out their guns too.

Puzzles panicked as he quickly got up and ran away, while Mario sadly got caught in the fight, he had no choice but to join in.

He found a place to hide, he was out of view by this large rock.

He sat down and tried his best to calm down. His circuits could’ve gotten damaged there badly. He didn’t want to think of the nightmare that would be fixing that kind of damage. He had to once and he still wasn’t sure if he fully recovered from it.

He just sat there, in the sand, still feeling the water dripping down on his lower limbs. The sand sticking to him felt uncomfortable but he could manage. 

He sighed, laying against the rock. His mind felt a little empty. He didn’t exactly expect to be left alone like this. Maybe it was just his brain playing tricks on him but he felt uneasy for some reason.

That reason turned out to come realy quick by. SMG4. Just the 2 of them. 

“AH!!” Puzzles got surprised by 4’s presence as he stared him down as he was good for nothing.

“I’ve got a few words for you” he said, it seemed he wouldn’t waste his time with useless small talk.

“Yeah?” Puzzles was scared.

“The bruise on his back was you, wasn’t it? What did you do to him?”

“I uh…” Puzzles got quickly nervous “You don’t need to know that”

One of 4’s eyes twitched. He was NOT happy.

“If I find out you’re controlling him this way, you’re dead”

“I’m not! I promise. I care about him too, okay? He hadn’t been doing well”

“Like I’d believe you. If you really aren’t controlling him you would tell how he got the bruise”

“I said you don’t want to know”

“It was clearly you”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know how”

“What could be worse than fucking mind control goop??”

“...Acidic…” Puzzles turned away, honestly thinking about it just made him heat up all over again.

“Acidic??” 4 was unsure what to think. He was trying to be mad but he was more lost on where this was going.

“And it… got on his back on accident… I didn’t mean to, we… got carried away” Puzzles tried to leave out the most important part.

“C…Carried away? With… WIth what?” 4 was left confused as he was trying to figure it out. But Puzzles wasn’t replying anymore, instead strongly trying to avoid eye contact with 4.

“Did…” it clicked for him “Holy fuck, Mr Puzzles, did you fuck my best friend??”

Puzzles grew visibly more nervous.

4 was left more confused if anything.

“I-  I don’t know what you’re planning with… all this you’re doing but you’ll NEVER convince me”

“I get that…”

“Blah blah I can’t hear your pitiful acting” 4 left, not listening to Puzzles’s words which actually were as sincere as they get.

“It’s okay…” Puzzles got up “I just wish you didn’t ruin stuff this way for other people” he said that last part under his breath, which 4 luckily didn’t end up hearing.

“You know, I really don’t get your deal” 4 said.

“I have no deal. I just wanna live again”

“That’s what they all say”

“Didn’t SMG3 have a similar thing”

“Unlike you, he wasn’t a parasite on other people”

“I… was invited”

“Maybe if you had a spine you would have declined”

Ouch.

“Maybe… It would be easier for you, would’t it? For the both of you. If I were just… out of the picture”

4 didn’t say anything. When it was said outloud like this it felt… different.

Puzzles continued.

“I want you to get one single thing through your head if it won’t be anything else” Puzzles said, glaring at 4 “You can believe I’m still a villain all you want, you can believe I want to hurt people all you want. But if you do this to the detriment of Mario’s mental health and constantly try to infantilize him with trying to ‘’’’’’’care’’’’’’’’’’’ for him, thinking you know so much better than everyone else, just know you’re annoying everyone else in the process. And hurting Mario more than you’ll ever realise.”

And with that, he left 4 dumbfounded. He wasn’t even sure how to react. This GUY trying to lecture him?? What the fuck did he know about life anyways??

He stomped off, far away from everyone as he went back inside. He didn’t want to see anyone then. He needed to see some funny memes. If they could even help him at this point.

Mario noticed this. He felt awful again. Even Puzzles joining back didn’t quite help.

Especially because 4 seemed to have left for good. The silence he left felt louder than anything.

“Dear, are you okay?” Puzzles finally asked him.

Mario couldn’t verbally respond without crying so he just shook his head.

“If… you’re worried about SMG4… I kind of talked to him.”

“Wh… What did you say to him?” Mario asked, though he did tear up in the process.

“Just… something he really needed to hear. A piece of my mind”

“You shouldn’t hurt him… he doesn’t deserve that”

“He WAS hurting you, no?” Puzzles grew a bit frustrated and spoke a bit louder, gaining their friends’ audience.

“Is this about 4?” 3 asked, stepping into it.

“I just.. I told him that he’s hurting Mario with his bullshit.”

“It’s- not-” 

“Yeah, it’s so easy to see! Mario looks miserable ever since 4 started being overprotective” Meggy chimed in.

Mario felt uneasy.

“Guys-”

“Yeah, you guys are right, even I’m upset about it” Luigi joined in after listening for a bit “I’m WELL aware”

“Please just-”

“I’m so sad he’s been causing so much trouble! If only we could all just get along” 

“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP” Mario broke, scaring everyone.

“Oh, dear…? Are you…”

“You guys are being so mean about Mario’s BEST friend. Sure, he is an asshole but he’s MARIO’S asshole” he got up and left the group, aiming to search for 4, leaving everyone there stunned. Puzzles felt bad.

“I… really thought I was doing the right thing” Puzzles felt guilt wash him over.

“You tried” 3  pat him on his back.

“I just feel like I can’t make things right. Like things won’t ever be perfect”

“Well, with people like us around, it won’t be” 3 tried to be reassuring “but we can try to make it work, you know, love prevails”

“Aww, 3, didn’t know you were giving away advice like this now” Meggy giggled.

3 tried to shush her.

Puzzles smiled at the interaction.

“Is it bad if I need time to  figure out how I can make it work?”

“We’ll be here for you either way” Tari said, stepping beside him.

“Exactly! Cuz what else are friends for?” Luigi joined in.

“Aww you guys” Puzzles could melt “I’ll… really try my best!”

And he got wrapped in a brief group hug. Damn, did it feel nice to have friends!

Meanwhile, Mario was banging on SMG4’s room to no avail, screaming, crying for him to open up. 

“Please….. SMG4…….. This can’t go on… I know Puzzles was a bit mean to you but…. just please talk to me”

“Whatever you want to say you can say without opening the door” 4 said, quietly. It was hard to read his tone.

“I know you’re scared of Mario being tricked into an awful thing but he promises he’s not! If Mr Puzzles wasn’t actually nice he wouldn’t like him as much as he does! Mario knows you want to protect him but still- You shouldn’t feel so much burden over that! Mario doesn’t need you to worry” he was practically crying. He just wanted things to be okay so badly.

He sniffled there for a while.

“Hope you at least tried to understand me” he said, as if hope left him.

And then the world turned awfully quiet for 4. He thought for a while it was nothing. But that nothing really felt like something. As in that something bad could happen, and it could happen right under his nose without him doing anything. 

The anxiety rising in him after a few minutes got the best of him. He finally unlocked the door, even the unlocking felt painfully heavy and slow. He had not time for this shit.

“Mario?” he looked around, seeing no sight of the italian. He grew more worried as he called out again, receiving no response.

He went around in the rooms. He went to check all of them, he was in none of them. Although, something caught his eye about 1 and 2’s room. Something very important. But he wouldn’t go that far… right? Right? 

Okay, now he was REALLY worried as he barged out the door with force that could’ve broken it if it didn’t open so easily as he tried to find any clues where Mario could have gone. This was BAD.

Puzzles could feel it too. He excused himself as he went looking for Mario himself.

As he did, he found 4 first instead.

Puzzles glared at 4. 4 glared at Puzzles.

Time seemed to stop.

After glaring enough both sighed. Which made them look at each other with judgement all over again.

“We should stop this” Puzzles said, begrudgingly. He was holding it back but damn 4 didn’t do much to show he’s good to be around.

“You’re right” 4 sighed, defeated.

“Let’s just… try and find Mario”

“Yeah”

The 2 went on silently, which was the most peaceful they had been around each other.

“You know…” 4 started.

“This isn’t the time”

“I’m just worried over what he might be doing”

“He’s hurt, I know that”

“Duh, idiot”

Puzzles rolled his eyes.

“What do YOU know anyways?”

“He took the godbox piece”

“He did WHAT????”

“I… I noticed it wasn’t in SMG1 and 2’s room anywhere when I looked around to try and find him.”

“Oh my god…”

“Yeah I… god I feel so bad…”

“That’s the first step”

“YOU’ve got nerve”

“SMG4… I get it, you’re jealous, he told me he’d go over to sleep and even cuddle you. I’m… not trying to steal him away”

4 blushed at the mention of it.

“Me? Jealous? No… No I…”

“He IS your best friend so of course you care a lot. I… don’t blame you but you did go too far”

“... I just… can’t help being anxious I guess? It feels like anything can be out to get us at this point…”

“Look… SMG4. I’ll promise you something. I’ll let SMG1 and 2 do all the things and tests to confirm I have no ill will anymore, no godbox manipulation. Don’t you know how it feels? You… become… something else…”

“It’s… scary…”

“I’m sorry if I scared you too”

“Yeah…though, how do you know the fact that the godbox manipulated us before?”

“Sometimes… it’d whisper things. The piece had a faint voice”

“A… A voice??”

“Of course… It would tell me what to do and manipulate my senses to think I’m doing the right thing. It would also tell me some information I could use to my advantage. And sometimes it would utter words I couldn’t connect anywhere. Sometimes I wonder if… the piece itself went insane…”

“That’s… scary I’m… I’m sorry. For… everything these past few days I guess”

“I’ll only accept if you accept me too”

4 stared at Puzzles.

“Maybe after we save Mario from doing something stupid”

They walked for a while. The quiet wasn’t so uncomfortably tense anymore. Puzzles found 4 a lot more likable when he wasn’t swearing at him and staring daggers into him. As they walked they spotted Mario at a cliff, his back turned to them. His arms in front of him, holding the piece. He seemed lost in it.

“Mario!!” Puzzles shouted for him as he and 4 got closer and sped up.

Mario turned a bit too fast, slipping off the edge.

Puzzles and 4 jumped after him with not much thinking. Puzzles caught both of them, utilising his long arms. 4 was too busy fearing death to actually object against it. None of them wanted to die, so badly too. Like a sense of determination crossing across them like electricity, light engulfed all 3 of them, slowly slowing their fall and making them land safely. Though, they barely realised that with how bright and strong the light was. Puzzles noted it was stronger than when he kept Mario back last time. But it felt similar.

As they finally came back to their senses from such an adrenaline inducing fall, 4 picked Mario up, cheering he was saved. But Puzzles did too. And he was taller so with that 4 came too. 4 didn’t mind it much but it did feel weird being lifted up like this. While Mario was SO confused.

“I’m so glad we managed to save you” Puzzles expressed his happiness with words.

“Mario thought he’d die for good”

“Did you want to?” 4 asked.

Mario lowered his head, not answering. But then for a different reason as he looked in his hands, seeing what the piece had become. It went form the pit of darkness it had, turning blindingly bright but still somehow safe to look at. It also seemed to constantly shift in shape. The other 2 looked at it too, just as confused.

“Did we… do this?” Puzzles asked.

“Guess so” 4 replied.

Mario looked at one of them then the other.

“You 2 are not trying to kill each other anymore?”

“We… talked” 4 said “I’m sorry for how I acted, Mario… I really am”

“Mario knows”

“I’m also sorry. Lashing out wasn’t exactly the… best choice I made today”

“You both need therapy”

The 2 laughed.

“We’ll make it work. Somehow” Puzzles reassured Mario, finally putting both of them down.

“And we need to show 1 and 2 what happened to the piece. I don’t know whether they’ll be super excited about it or if they’ll be bummed out they can’t examine it further”

“Probably a bit of both”

“Mario’s…” Mario spoke up, changing the subject “MARIO’S SO HAPPY HIS FAVOURITE PEOPLE ARE GETTING ALONG” he was jumping with joy. It only just fully settled in then.

That was when the others got there.

“You guys are okay??” Meggy was running in the front.

“We were so worried!” Boopkins ran ahead, although he was trying to catch his breath.

“Sure are but” 4 pointed at the piece that changed in Mario’s hands. 

Everyone was shocked, 1 and 2 were in fact so shocked they both fell over. There was a lot to tell and the crew was sure shocked, especially at the fact that 4 and Puzzles talked it out. The piece went back to its rightful place and then they could finally have the few days they’d spend there be chiller. There were still problems but it wasn’t anything the crew couldn’t bear. One could say that they weren’t perfect but they still found integrity.

For now. You know the saying, nothing lasts forever! However for now, things are okay, which was what really mattered.

[ms--lobotomy]

@angronsjewelbeetle (humbly offers this to you)

Summary: Magnus takes care of his sick (masc) lover.

Word Count: 600

Content Warnings: Sickness, idk this one's pretty fluffy as far as the war-criminals-in-space fandom goes

Image Credit: @squishyowl

It wasn't often that the betrothed of Magnus the Red got sick. With a touch of his hand, he could remove almost any illness that got in your way. This one was persistent, though, resistant to even the most powerful psykers the galaxy had to offer. Aches and pains dashed down your body. You shivered in the bed.

It was hard to ignore his looming presence besides you. He looked aloof as he paged through one of Lorgar's treatises, but his eye remained on you. You didn't even know if he was reading the darned thing, but you had neither the want nor the energy to confront him about it.

"Hm?" Magnus asked, turning one of the pages.

Your cheeks flushed warmer than they were. Something about the rumble of his voice put you at ease every time he uttered something. Even a grunt would make you feel all warm inside. The corners of his mouth turned up, and he put the book aside. You felt a hand snake towards your forehead, completely engulfing it.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. No matter how dire the situation, his voice always maintained a soft quality when around you.

"Urgh," you groaned in response. You turned over to face him.

Magnus chuckled at you, rubbing his cool hand along your forehead. "At a loss for words, my beloved?" he asked. "No matter. Tap the bed twice if it is okay for me to go inside your mind."

You tapped once, then hesitated. Usually this action was reserved for the most dire of situations, and were you really that sick? You weren't in danger of death, after all, this disease felt like more of a cold than anything. Magnus frowned.

"You don't have to, love," he said, his hand retracting from your forehead.

It was then that you tapped the bed, twice to confirm your decision. Magnus sat you up on the bed against the mountain of soft pillows he had personally requested for you and grabbed for both of your hands. You were kneeling now, your legs creating a w-shape behind you. The red of his skin was pronounced against your natural hue, and he ran his thumbs along your knuckles.

"Ready?" he asked.

You nodded, and his hands stopped moving. You felt him move past a sea of ow ow hurt pain to something a lot calmer, a lot quieter. You closed your eyes to see you two on Prospero together, holding hands as you watched the sun go down and saying nothing.

Prospero became the Imperial Palace. You were on a balcony, doing a little dance together before you were listening to one of the remembrancers play and sing an ancient instrument. Different little moments flashed through your mind, moments that had both happened and were yet to happen with him before finally you saw yourself in a suit, walking down the aisle to join him in marriage once and for all.

You could feel yourself falling into him, his twin heartbeats steady against your ear.

"Magnus," you said softly, your hand leaving his to settle on his chest. In the real world, you had also fallen onto him, running your hand up and down the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Yes?" he replied, grabbing your waist and rubbing his thumb over your belly.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" you asked. "Feels... nice."

"Do not worry," he replied, his eye closing while he pulled you in. "I have you here and now, and I will have you forever. And this will be over soon, I promise you."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[iz-star]

My thoughts and guesses / theories about Zayne's upcoming main story branch.

Like I've said in previous posts, I've been hella busy with work and most of all, exhausted so I haven't been able to come here and scream about the game updates (let alone draw something) but I still want to summarize my reactions from the past few days.

About the main story update, I'm really excited to see what's going to happen! I love the Dawnbreaker references but I have to be honest, I don't really think this is Dawnbreaker, he's still Dr Zayne (they both are part of each other somehow, but you understand what I mean).

Here's why:

At first, I genuinely thought this time we really would get the chance to interact with Dawnbreaker since Zayne is wearing DB's outfit and not a jumpscare outfit like in Snowy Serenity but the more I watched the trailer, the more I realized that this is still Dr Zayne which both makes me feel alleviated (cause if it were to be Dawnbreaker, it would leave us wondering where Dr Zayne is) and scared cause if he gets to suffer/ sacrifice himself in this time line like he did as Foreseer and MoF, I don't know well how I'll handle it.

He's a male lead so I don't think they will kill him off (? but somehow with Zayne one never knows, he's honestly always surprising us. In any case, my wildest theory is that if something happens to Dr Zayne, then we'll continue his branch with Dawnbreaker... idk? Anyway, don't really pay too much attention to this since it's most unlikely that something like this happens.

The impression I got after watching the trailer so many times is that this is actually Dr Zayne in the process of becoming 'Dawnbreaker' (maybe not exactly his other self but the concept) which has been one of his biggest fears; the reason? Because the Xander Sciences experiments, the severe cases of Protocore Syndrome and Metaflux anomalies are probably speeding the process of humanity to get doomed since in Dawnbreaker's world, humans turning into wanderers is something pretty recurrent and the very reason Zayne is a killer and his world is apocalyptic. Dr Zayne knows of this, he knows using protocores in human hearts is dangerous (the very reason he gave up his research in university), he also knows that to be exposed to big quantities of metaflux is what turns humans into Wanderers, he knows it because when he and William fought side by side in Mt Eternal, it was in order to destroy a Protofield that got out of hand and the Metaflux anomalies there were bringing to land more Wanderers. It was until they destroyed the protofield when William started to turn into an Abomination and then, a Wanderer.

In the trailer, Dr Zayne says something like 'We have no choice but to destroy this place" so my guess is that there is another big Metaflux anomaly like in Mt Eternal but this time in a place where there is a lot of ppl and due to being exposed to it, they're turning into Wanderers, something that Zayne as a Doctor can't cure: "Aren't you a Doctor. You should've save me!"

In fact, this is something he can only cure as Dawnbreaker:

I'm really interested to know who was the guy who asked Zayne to kill him. My guesses are:

William (and this probably a flashback).

Carter

Greyson (most unlikely since the voice didn't mach but goshh could you imagine the angst if it was him??)

So if there is another Metaflux anomaly it means that there's a Protofield that got out of hand and it probably was in either Akso Hospital or Xander Sciences company cause they had a special patient that accoring to what they say in the trailer, had a fragil heart that would've stopped long ago.

If I'm not mistaken (and since I'm currently sleepy and feeling lazy) in the World Underneath anecdotes Carter and Xander Sciences tried to keep some patients alive or to revive them using protocores and keeping him in pods but it didn't work? However, long before these anecdotes were released, we knew that there were already organizations doing research about immortality:

It seems that 'A special energy field' is necesary in order to reach better conditions to regenerate the human heart. What if this 'special energy field' is something similar to a Protofield? If we remember correctly, in both Rafayel and Xavier's myths MC's heart was necessary for them to live immortal lifes? In Rafayel's case, she seemed to give ppl some kind of energy? But at the same time she couldn't leave their city neither. In Xavier's case, her heart was like an unending source of energy for Philos core and they wanted to feed Philos core with her so they would stop to sending humans and then Philos core would stop crearing wanderers.

In both cases, it seems that MC is the source of energy of a Protofield that both gives it enough quantities of energy to keep it balanced and making ppl within this field to be immortal (like her) without the risk of becoming wanderers. In Rafayel's myth, she was already the source of this field, so there are actually no wanderers in this myth. In Xavier's myth, she wasn't the source of it so they were creating wanderers bc of it.

What if in this case, Xander Sciences discovers that the key to reach immortality lies in creating a Protofield with enough energy to create the needed conditions to regenerate human hearts for indefinite amount of time and that the KEY to achieve this lies in MC's aether core??

What if what Zayne is trying to protect here is MC's heart so they won't use her to reach immortality, EVEN if he knows that this most likely will avoid tons of deaths and will stop the creation of wanderers and ALSO will avoid his future as Dawnbreaker but even so he chooses to save her, just like he did as Foreseer and Master of Fate.

And lastly, he mentions "When that day comes... When I can't wake up" my only guesses are:

His nightmare of becoming "The Grim Reaper" will become true.

By destroying the Protofield that is creating the anomaly, he also freezes himself?

Maybe he steals part of MC's power or even he takes the creatio protocore he gave to her as Foreseer and uses it on himself so instead of using her as the source of energy for this Protofield, he offers himself as this unending source of energy? (This one is quite wild and seems unlikely to happen but I still wanted to mention it ahaha).

Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Please take this with a grain of salt, since these are only silly theories and nothing official. We'll have to wait some days more to discover the truth.

[creatingblackcharacters]

I would like to submit Hazel Wells from the Fairly OddParents sequel. Best kid protagonist Nick has had in years, imo.

New Wish is shockingly good for a sequel, but I guess that's what happens when a creative team is earnest about the source material. The best part is Butch Hartman is barely involved (I think that helps the show's rep). 🏴‍☠️ when ya can.

You know, I'm actually surprised and relieved to hear that! This one went through The Internet's regular "they're turning everything woke" (which is just code for "I hate negroes in my media") spiel, and combined with it being a sequel, I was worried. So... Nice! I love how Hazel's texture is 3D but her body is like... Idk? It's not quite flat but idk if it's 3D either? Her hair feels more shaped than the rest of her. It's also cute bc if Timmy had the big buck tooth, Hazel's got a gap (and gaps are seen as signs of beauty in some West African cultures! Idk if that's what they intended, but still!) We'll have to do like you said, and see what it's all about.

[etherealily]

guilt // f.odair

[1/3] Long. this was queued, idk if I've already promised another character before this is out.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader. Warnings : Cuss words, SFW but discretion advised, mature themes.

Desc. : But is it in his nature?

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

'Suck on his sellout cock, go ahead', your mind taunts you as you traipse behind him into the Victor's Village, a place where you simultaneously hoped you'd live and you'd never step into again.

See, Finnick had always dominated your childhood.

You grew up watching him charm the nation, be welcomed back to the District like he was God.

One of your biggest flexes was that you got to see him in person in a parade once, when he'd come back from one of his many Capitol visits.

However. That all changed once you became fifteen. Because you'd finally got some fucking sense and realized that the people at the Capitol, the Hunger Games, none of it was fair, it was all fucking shit.

And you hated Finnick all the more for it.

Prancing around, doing promotions, adverts, sending children to die, being the Capitol's bitch. You'd narrowly escaped your last chance to be reaped, but you still wished he'd choke on his ridiculously expensive Capitol meal.

You couldn't respect him.

But. But, it wasn't like you'd ever tell him that, though. Because when Finnick Odair talks to you, you fucking talk back.

And when he tells you he wants you to come back home with him after seeing you by the ocean one night, you go, no matter how much you'd rather fucking kill yourself.

"This is my house.", he smiles, and waits expectantly, as if you're supposed to applaud.

"It's nice."

He doesn't look disappointed or surprised at that. In fact, he seems mildly entertained. "Get in."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"And then, maybe, just bring your hand up the side of your leg? Yeah, yeah, just like that. Okay, yeah, sweetheart, that's it."

Click.

"And this is for..."

"Modelling."

"For the Capitol?"

"Who else?"

You raise a brow, your mind immediately picturing some rhinestone encrusted Capitol asshole getting off to a picture of you. You shudder.

"I'm joking. It's for me."

"For you?"

"Feel free to look around.", he says, offhandedly, as he looks through the camera at all the pictures he'd just clicked of you. "Maybe something will catch your fancy."

"You brought me here to... take pictures of me and... let me take whatever I want from your house?"

"I'm a weirdo, sweetheart."

"What will you do with the pictures?"

"I dunno. Can't publish them anywhere. I guess I'll just use them.", he mutters, more to himself than you, but you catch it. He looks up and then clarifies, "To improve my photography skills."

Thank fuck.

"Why me?"

"You're a good subject."

Your fingers move almost fluidly past various things, bottles of expensive liquor, watches, jewellery that he probably stole from his long list of Capitol lovers, and a single, slightly pathetic looking conch.

"I'm a subject? Like... math?"

He snorts. It's condescending, he's aware - there's no way you'd know. You've never been out of the District.

"It's photography lingo. A subject is who you're taking photos of. You have the correct facial structure for my lighting to illuminate you how I want it to. Hence, you're a good subject."

"Oh."

He continues flicking through photos and adjusting the background, taking a few trial shots with the result of his tinkering, until he seems to notice that you haven't spoken in a while. "You like the conch?"

"It's pretty."

"So are you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Ugh. There he goes again, back to Finnick Odair, Capitol man-whore instead of Finnick, photo geek.

You turn to him. "How much did it cost? Twice the wine?"

"I didn't buy it. I found it, back when I was eleven."

"You've had it for almost a decade?"

He licks his lips, his hands pausing their scrolling of the camera's gallery for a moment. "I guess it has been a decade."

"What was it like, though? When you won?"

"Won? Won what?"

"The Games."

"Oh. Uh... bittersweet."

"Bitter? Why would it be bitter?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Sit down."

You know the truth. He just didn't want to admit that there was nothing bitter going on. He won because he was hot, and now, he continued reaping the benefits of his genetic lottery win.

You sit, still looking up at him as he comes to kneel in front of you, turning his camera to you. "What do you think?"

The pictures he's taken of you have an unsettling ethereality to them. In one, you're looking out the window with your back to the camera, your outfit hidden by a rose he'd apparently been holding in front of the camera.

A white rose.

It featured in every fucking picture, so much so that you almost asked him about it. Key word : almost.

In one of the more lighthearted ones, the rose sat in your mouth.

"They're pretty nice."

"Is your vocabulary limited to those two words? Pretty. Nice."

"I don't know what else to say."

He regards your face for a moment - like, really fucking observes you - before fiddling with some knob on the camera. "Take off your clothes."

That shouldn't have surprised you as much as it did.

"What?"

He looks up, confused. "Take off your clothes and I'll take some pictures."

"What? No."

"You don't want to? But you were okay with all the previous pictures."

"Yeah, because I was clothed."

"Being unclothed is a problem for you? Being exposed? Hm? That bothers you?"

What?!

"I- look, man, I'm not trying to offend you."

"But you are. You said you'd let me take photos of you. You are not your clothes, are you? You are your self, your soul, your body."

"Yeah, but I'm just not comfortable."

'Y'know what, sweetheart, people do shit they're not comfortable with all the fucking time. Twenty-five/eight. If you can't deal with it, you're weak. Take. It. Off."

You had a feeling there was another reason he was so angry about your non-compliance, but you didn't push it.

"Please don't make me do this."

"Fine! FUCK! Am I asking you to suck my cock? Huh? I could, y'know that? I could've, but no, I asked you to help me make art, and you chickened out!", he yells, his finger scarily close to poking your eye.

Finnick Odair was no longer pissing you off.

Finnick Odair was genuinely scaring you.

"Just get out.", he mutters, setting his camera down in defeat on his couch. "Get out, seriously."

You don't even have two seconds of backing-away-time before he stops you again. "What if I killed your family?"

That scares you more. "What?"

"What if I killed your family? Or at least, threatened to? Would you do it? Would you?", he asks, and now, he's not angry at you, or frustrated, he's more desperate, frantic, as if your answer would shake his fucking world.

As if your answer would change his self perception.

"Please don't kill my family."

"Would you suck my cock if I threatened to kill your family, Y/N?!"

"YES!", you scream, flinching, almost. "Yes! I would, but please, PLEASE don't!"

Finnick Odair gazes back at you with relief, and you want to strangle him. "You would, wouldn't you? You'd do unspeakable things for your family, yes?"

Well, of course.

"Things that would make your skin crawl. Not just because you love them, but because you're responsible for them. Because you got yourself into this mess."

He's no longer talking to or about you, that much is clear.

"And it's up to you to keep them away from it."

Slowly backing away, you try your hardest not to show up in his peripheral, to make sure he stays in whatever zone he's in.

But he is Finnick Odair. So he doesn't even look up at you as he instructs you. "Don't take the conch." Like stealing from him was the first thing on your mind.

"Wasn't planning to."

"Don't tell anyone about today."

"Wasn't planning to."

"Stay."

Wasn't planning to.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Stay."

The apology only solidifies your urge to stab him in the gut. "I have to get home."

"I didn't mean stay the night. I don't want you staying the night."

Finnick Odair, as you had begun to gather, was debilitatingly honest.

"I just mean stay for a while. Have dinner and then go."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. I have turkey from the Capitol."

"What's that?"

"It's a kind of bird. It's just like chicken but better."

"What's chicken?"

"Another kind of bird."

"Oh."

He frowns at you for a moment. "You're not okay with eating birds, are you?"

"They're just... very rare, so I don't see why you have to kill them."

He sighs, looking around the room in deep thought. "I could make fish. You know fish. You like fish."

You do know fish. You do like fish. You nod.

~~~~

Finnick's fish is unlike any you've ever fucking eaten.

Living in District 4, you'd figured you'd had fish every way it could be cooked. But no.

You can't help but take more. And more. And more. You weren't hungry, and momentarily felt guilt, thinking about kids in the other districts who were, but it was divine and you couldn't bring yourself to care much.

"You like that?", he asks, from opposite you, raising a brow in amusement.

"It's really fucking good."

He whistles lowly. "Ooh, nice, vocabulary expansion. So you do cuss. I was afraid I'd corrupted you with my rough Capitol language.", he muses, looking at your plate. "You have room for dessert?"

"Doesn't everyone, always?"

He nods. "That's fair. Cake?"

CAKE? This Capitol whore managed to bring cake back to District 4?

"Sure."

That was divine, too.

"You like that, too?"

"Yeah. It's really good. The Capitol has it really good."

"The Capitol is filled with cunts who throw up food because they want to taste more."

Was that... disdain? Interesting.

"Well, seeing as you spend most of the year there, I just thought..."

He stands, clearing the plates. "What? That I was one of them?"

You watch him go into the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you do. "No, just that... no, yeah, I did."

"It's okay, I get that a lot. I just... I gotta go, do these promotions, adverts. I have to. I made a deal."

You sigh, standing and pushing the dining table chair back to its original position. "Contract?"

He clenches his jaw momentarily, before nodding, his shoulders tense. "Yeah. Sm'n like that.", he grins, his dimples emerging once more. Thirteen year old you would have swooned and fainted and died.

Eighteen year old you just lets him lead you to the door.

"I'm leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Along with the tributes from this year."

Why he's telling you this, you have no clue.

"You should come and wave me off."

"Do we know each other well enough for that?"

"No, but I know you know the tributes well. One of them goes to school with you, doesn't she?"

Yes. Little Faye.

"Yes, she's in the eighth grade. I used to tutor her."

The reality hits. She will probably never be able to high-five you when she gets a question right again.

"You should give her courage.", he suggests. "Going in thinking you're going to die will get you killed. Let her know she can make it."

"Can she?", you ask, quietly. The answer will ruin you, you can tell.

"She's a Career."

"Yes, but can she?"

"Chances are slim." Finnick fucking Odair. Finnick "debilitatingly honest" fucking Odair. "I won't tell her that, though."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Finnick."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

His hands grip your chin and you swear you're about to kill him. You look up at him, hanging out the open door of the train carriage and holding onto you, and you're half tempted to pull him down with you because what the fuck was he doing?

You can feel it coming, the urge to slap him away, but then again, it's still Finnick FUCKING Odair, and you're not sure if there's a law against rejecting his advances.

So you just kind of let him kiss you. It's not bad, no, far from it, it's just... unexpected.

Considering it's in front of every camera in the district.

Considering you'd only known each other one night.

Considering his last words were 'you're the only thing I care about.'

Considering he said your full name an unsettling amount of times.

Considering little Faye was watching and wondering why you were calm enough to be making out with some hot guy instead of sending her off.

Considering now the entirety of Panem was either going gush at you or rush at you.

~~~~

You can't bring yourself to watch the news.

Everyone assumes it's because of Finnick.

But, ironically, Finnick's the only one who knows it's not.

It's because of Faye.

"Finnick's on TV.", you're informed at least twice an hour.

"'Kay.", is your usual response. "Faye?"

"I'm sure Finnick trained her well. And besides, the 11th is this weekend! You'll find out."

Right. You'd been invited by Snow him-fucking-self to the Capitol. Apparently, the cameras outside your house weren't enough. He needed you there, with Finnick, for promos. While children were dying.

You receive gifts from your family, your neighbours, your teachers - basically anyone you'd breathed around - for your journey to the Capitol, as if you're going to some dreamland.

As you ride the train, your head against the seat, you try to imagine this is the train that leads you out of District 4. Your family will be waiting at the destination - in your head, an actual dreamland - and you'll be fine and dandy.

As you're escorted out, you imagine you're hanging from the ceiling in full display on the TV instead of Faye having to go through the Games.

And as you're directed to Finnick's room, you imagine slitting his throat. It's funny. You almost laugh. Then, the door opens.

Dimples.

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

"How is it you've never worn lip tint before?", he mutters, tutting as if you'd just misspelled a basic word. "C'mon, pucker up.", he instructs, his thumb smearing red on your lips.

You have no idea what you look like and you're not sure if you want to find out. "I thought you were a merchant."

You shake your head. "No, I said I live by the merchant sector of 4."

"Not in it?"

"Of course not. Why would I have been picking seashells to make necklaces out of if I were a merchant? I just sell shit in the marketplace. Doesn't make me a merchant."

"I mean, technically... yeah, it does.", he says, his thumb accidentally slipping and smudging your makeup over the left of your cheek.

"Right, well, I'm not merchant class.', you shrug, trying to wipe the results of idiocy that was Finnick Odair off the side of your cheek.

Finnick... seems to get it. He nods along as he continues trying to de-plague your face with makeup.

Guilt is etched on his face. Regret, a tiny bit. Sadness, festering throughout.

"What's that look?"

He doesn't seem like he's out of whatever thought he was in moments ago when he hums in response, before quickly leaping towards his bedside and taking his camera, holding his thumb next to your bottom lip, with your still messy lip tint just about seen. Click.

"What's that look?", you repeat.

"What look?"

"That one.", you say, pointing to his face as if he can see it.

"That's my sorry look. I shouldn't have sprung the kiss on you. It was a dick move.", he says, gently moving behind you and guiding your shoulders to manoeuver you to face the mirror.

He says it as if he already knows you'll forgive him.

Yes, you do. But it irks you that he seems to assume that.

"Yes, it was."

"I'm sorry. What do you think?"

"I look like the 12 escort."

"Trinket? No, no way. You look great.", he assures, and you try to believe him, but you haven't seen yourself in makeup before and it doesn't look as though it's you standing there.

"Beautiful.", he says, as an afterthought, almost, as if he were trying out the word to see if it sounded right or not. He seems to decide on the former. "Beautiful.", he repeats, nodding.

That gets your attention and you take a second glance, and suddenly, you see what he sees. The makeup isn't subtle and hidden, but it isn't what the Capitol wears. It's... pleasant.

He brushes some hair in front of your shoulders. "See? Beautiful.", he reiterates, like he can't get enough of that word now.

"You sure I'll fit in here like this? Like... dressed up?"

"Yeah.", he says, vehemently nodding before doing that thing when he looked in your eyes again. "Well, mostly. I mean, I'd prefer it if you had the easiest time possible, 'cause I kinda got you into this mess."

You nod. That checks out. "Thanks."

═════════════════════ ⋆🔱⋆ ══════════════════

The night sees you staring at the ceiling while Finnick breathes softly in sleep beside you. It's pleasant. Domestic, almost. Like what Finnick wants, you think. Like the Capitol believes, you know.

He shifts and your eyes snap shut. Why you're so afraid of him finding out that you are awake, you don't know, but you are. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your cheek with enough purpose that you realize he wasn't asleep in the first place, either.

And then he does it.

His hand reaches out, gently feeling around for your hand, before he grips the middle three fingers on your left.

He squeezes them softly, then brings them to his chest, where his own hand lays. That's it.

You watch him actually sleep until he mumbles, shifting again. 'Y/N?"

"Yeah?", you respond immediately, kicking yourself internally. Cover blown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"Mhm."

"Of the photos we took today? I promise, the makeup isn't bad, and you won't have to take any more - they'll publish them and pass them off as taken over a few months, so it's not-"

"No, for Faye."

Silence. "Oh."

"I feel like I didn't get to even tell her how well she's going to do."

"You can see her."

You can what?

"When?"

"Well, not in person, but we can watch the live feed of the Gam-"

"Yes. Yes, please, thank you.'

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. Yes, absolutely. When can we?"

"Well, technically, it's always streaming, so I, I guess we can go now."

You nod.

He raises a brow as if he never expected you to agree. "Okay, uh, just, uh... gimme a second to wake up, okay?"

He comes out of the bathroom after washing his face to find you pacing, biting the inside of your cheek. "C'mon."

~~~~

The Viewing Room is desolate except for a few Gamemakers' Assistants (GAs), that have to watch footage 24/7.

"We have to record these things all the time, just in case something happens during the cover of nightfall", he explains, as he walks in front of you and gestures to the large screen in the opposite side of the room. "Usually, the stronger Careers, from 1 or 2-", he cuts himself off. That was not what you needed to be hearing right now.

He watches as you slowly walk up to the screen, as though the soft glow from it could lead you to Faye. Your eyes dart around the entirety of the enormous screen, looking for something - anything - to announce you of Faye's survival.

"She is still alive. You'd have heard a cannon and seen a picture of her if not."

It's not the most comforting thing he can say. He's usually better at this. God, if he didn't miss his old self, but the guilt of essentially using you to keep Snow's interest off his family and on you, the - to the extent of Snow's knowledge, anyway - love of his life, isn't exactly letting him be warm and inviting to you.

But he wants to. Let it be known, he wants nothing more than to do what he usually does. Brighten people up.

"Where is she?"

"WE'VE GOT A RUNNER!", calls one of the GAs and your head snaps to a blue triangle tracking one of the tributes on the screen, and you run over to that side of the massive screen.

The lights come on in the room, and people flood in. Sponsors, gamblers, Gamemakers. Because this is prime TV. He imagines every screen in the country lighting up, because you have to watch. Every child has just been woken up because the feed's back on.

"Who's the runner?", someone asks, and Finnick turns to you, diligently tracking the blue triangle with your eyes. Blue. Ocean. District 4. It's Faye.

"Girl from Four. The boy's already dead."

"How much did I have on her?"

"Oh, c'mon, you didn't have shit on her! No one thought she'd make it this far."

"Fine, fine, but now how much?"

The sounds of cruelty almost have him zoning out, going back into Capitol-Party-Finnick-Mode. That is, until, you call him.

"Finnick?"

He rushes to your side, a guilt induced speed to his gait. "Yeah, y'okay?" No the fuck she isn't. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Who's the gold triangle chasing her?" Gold. Luxury. District 1. CAREER.

"Uh..." Deliver it softly. Sweetly.

"Unless she's a shapeshifter, the girl's DEAD!", laughs one of the sponsors. "It's my tribute, the Career boy from 1 chasin' her, with... wait, zoom in? Oh, yeah, a dagger!"

Your eyes widen and Finnick wants to kill himself. "She'll be fine. She can swim, he..."

Can also swim. Fuck.

"... he won't be able to keep up with her." , he says, finally.

Partially true. District 1 Careers didn't have access to the ocean, not like those from 4, so it was very much possible that he wasn't trained to know about tides and currents and shit.

There's a moment where no one in the room says anything. Because they both just jumped into the water, and Faye went under.

Finnick holds your head to his chest as you cling onto him in fear. It's not even remotely close to making up for what he's planning to put you through - well, already putting you through - but he at least feels a bit like the old him. The one who could actually comfort.

The tribute from 1 splashes around a bit, looking for Faye. You've turned a bit now, your head's still in his chest, but half your face is facing the screen. You're watching, anxious as ever.

"She's not drowned.", he mutters, stupidly. Duh.

"What if something pulled her under?"

Oh fuck. Yeah. Valid point.

"I'm sure it's just a strategy."

One that he remembers teaching her.

Maybe if she uses this and beats this District 1 Career, he could be one more step closer to gaining your forgiveness, and his redemption.

For a crime that the victim wasn't even aware was being committed.

The Career flounders around a bit more, screaming, clearly, but the audio is muted here. He looks around, not willing to look under, in case that might trigger the release of any muttations the Capitol cooked up for them.

And then, he's tugged a bit, his leg down, and he springs away from the motion. Please be Faye. Please be Faye.

He's jerked fully under, and a splash of Faye's hair can be seen before both disappear underneath the midlly murky waters, a struggle very evident in the way the water's splattering about.

Suddenly, it stops.

Faye leaps exhaustedly onto the bank, gasping for breath.

A cannon goes off. Florian Jentry. District 1 , Luxury. Score : 10.

Finnick holds onto you tighter as you sigh in relief. He softly kisses your hair because he doesn't know what else to do.

Relief is the only possible emotion to feel.

No one's happy. No one's sad. You're only either relieved that your loved one isn't gone, or relieved that they're not gone in a torturous way.

Wait, scratch that. The patron who just bet on Faye is happy.

[luvnami]

not a glory hole! - chapter 16

an | so, um, they might not get freaky after all. idk. lmk ur thoughts... / mlist cw | alcohol, ageless/mdni (18+)

after the filming for the midnight diner series ended, the team was due for a celebration dinner. you let ushijima know that you’d be home late (just in case he got worried again), so he went to bed on time at 10.30pm as he always did. the last thing he expected was receiving a call from you at 12.03am.

“hello?”

ushijima’s voice is rougher than usual as he rubs at his eyes blearily. 

“i’m so sorry for disturbing you, but…” 

the caller id is yours, but the voice on the other end of the phone belongs to someone else. apparently, you had drunk yourself into a stupor at the celebration dinner and one of the poor interns had tucked you into a cab, hoping you’d get home safely. they called what was supposed to be your neighbour, according to ushijima’s contact name in your phone, hoping that he’d pick you up when the taxi arrived.

ushijima ends the call and sits on the edge of his bed. the room is silent, save for the quiet hum of his ac. he pulls a windbreaker on and heads downstairs to meet you. 

it doesn’t take long before a taxi pulls up in front of the apartment building. 

“c’mon, senpai. you’re lucky i managed to get you home…” a girl with her hair in a ponytail pulls you out of the taxi.

“heehee, thank you, akane-chan!” you giggle drunkenly. “ah, wakatoshi-kun! you came to pick me up?”

ushijima nods seriously. he lets you lean on him for support, earning a huff of relief from akane. the girl studies him carefully but he matches her gaze. she blinks. 

“don’t worry, i don't-”

“aren’t you ushijima wakatoshi-”

they speak at the same time. ushijima falls quiet as akane turns completely red, mouth gaping like a fish in water. 

“i’m sorry! please take care of my senpai!” she squeaks. 

weird, ushijima thinks, but it’s not strange for sports fans to recognise him. he bids akane farewell and lugs you into the lift lobby. he punches the button of your apartment level and the doors slide shut, lift shuddering to life. 

“you drank too much,” ushijima states.

your body is warm against his side, your limbs like putty. if it weren’t for his arm holding you up, you would’ve melted to the ground. he holds your bag in his other hand and takes a peek at you.

you stare up at ushijima with half-lidded eyes. you reek of alcohol.

“are you feeling okay? you’re not going to throw up, are you?” he asks, suddenly concerned. 

you shake your head and the whole world spins with it. 

“nuh-uh! wakatoshi-kun, you’re so nice to me,” you grin sloppily. “you didn’t have to pick me up, but you came anyways.”

the lift climbs up another floor. ushijima thinks of how you met him in the rain, bringing him your pink umbrella. the book you bought him is slotted neatly in his bookshelf and the tupperware you brought extra watermelon in is still drying on his dishrack. 

“i wanted to. it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” ushijima murmurs. 

the lift doors open.

“let’s get you home.” 

“you’re the best, waka-chan!”

waka-chan? 

ushijima pretends he heard nothing.

an | btw akane is yamamoto akane, the cheer squad girl from nekoma. she's a publishing intern post-timeskip, but i just thought it'd be fun to see a familiar face

[scuderiamint]

race day thoughts from Singapore !! aka danny ric truly the dotd + main character max verstappen

nothing to really say about the win, considering this is exactly what lando should be doing with the rocket, miserable time for me as a max fan but we move ig

almost got a grand slam but my man, my hero, my petty bitch boy's bestie Daniel Ricciardo decided to not only ruin his slam but also lessen the damage that max took from this weekend, muahhhhh (i have never really liked you king but this deserved a standing ovation)

max verstappen pulling that rb20 into the front row and then defending that spot from a lewis with soft tires was Beautiful, an incredible result

speaking of max, the fact that he only lost like 10 points to lando over the double header is Insane, considering this was the worst track combination for red bull lmao this is truly what i call damage limitations

i was quite surprised by what mclaren (🤮) did with oscar, no clue what that pit strat was, cuz that man could have very easily been p2 but he didnt manage to close up the gap to max at all at the end so idk man

the mercs were kinda underwhelming, i thought lewis would be an insane threat to max but he fell off quite quickly and then george was busy fighting his car and defending from oscar so also idk man

oh ferrari, my sweet sweet summer children, why have you decided to go back to your roots and completely fuck yourselves 😭 no clue what went on there

also carlos needs to stop picking fights with rookies dude, colapinto having the balls to pull off an incredible start is exactly what he needs to do considering he doesnt have seat next year anyways

also carlos has zero room to talk about someone potentially causing a collision when he has crashed 2 race weekends in a row from his own dumb mistakes

charles jumping from p9 to like p5? i think? was quite impressive considering we had zero safely cars

speaking of that

WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY SAFELY CARS

SINGAPORE IS NOTORIOUS FOR THE AMOUNT OF SAFETY CARS, AND THE FIA TAKE AWAY THE ONE PART OF THE TRACK THAT USUALLY CAUSES THEM AND RUINS MY FUN ????

bro we have gone like 8 races with zero safety cars, what the fuck is going on 😭😭

kmag promised me that he would "fuck shit up" and all he gave me was a botched attempt at a fastest lap 😔 all men do is Lie

also i didnt think this needed to be said but because zak is crying in the media, danny ric was not the only one trying to get fastest lap lmao i cant believe we are back at the 'rbr have 4 drivers on the grid :((((" debate again lmao

the way some people talk about rb, it sounds like h*rner has direct radio comms to yuki and daniel and can just order them to do shit lmao

also welcome liam lawson to rb 🫡

Honorable mentions list:

max verstappen my sweet petty bitch i adore you, this man got community service for saying "fuck" and made it everyone elses problem lmao

the other drivers cracking jokes about it and defending max makes me so fuckin happy dude, i love seeing the drivers united like this

we saw it after the media shitstorm after the austria weekend and now here ❤️

max conducting special press cons cuz the media isnt at fault here and they shouldnt be punished for something the fia did makes me smile, cuz this is max being a mature but still petty bitch and i love him for it

the "theres something with my voice" comment was so funny pls

but also his comments after the race about how f1 is turning the environment unpleasant makes me miserable dude

max already fuckin hates the circus around the sport and now this weird need to clean and polish the sport even more is annoying as fuck

kinda ironic that they want to promote the sport in america more and then pull shit like this lmao