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dollgxtz · 2 days

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His Watchful Eye Pt. 6

Word Count: 15.k...(oops)

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, dubcon, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, comfort sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation if you squint, mentions of murder, nightmares, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, tw for panic attacks, rape flashbacks, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey,

AN: Hi everyone! This is also on A03! Please someone stop me, how the hell did I manage to squeeze in like 4k extra words than last time??? Anyways, enjoy the meal, I definitely have missed writing smut with yan!sylus and reader :3. Also a gentle reminder that reader has no specific skin tone! I just use images that I think represent the chapter well, you can imagine her however you’d like ^^

"I'll make it all disappear," Sylus murmured, his voice low and hypnotic, penetrating the darkest recesses of your fractured psyche. It was as if he possessed the power to reach inside your mind and vaporize the painful memories that clung to you like shackles. "You want to feel so good you won't think about him again?"

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt. 5

The car roars down the empty road, its tires devouring the distance between freedom and your inevitable return to captivity. Luke sits at the wheel, his face completely hidden behind the bird shaped mask. You can’t see his eyes, can’t gauge anything from the way he’s holding himself—just the silent, unyielding presence of the man steering you back to your prison.

You wonder how he sees out of that thing.

Kieran sits beside him, his mask just the same, his fingers tapping a light, almost carefree rhythm on the dashboard as he finishes humming a cheery tune. His face, too, is entirely concealed, leaving you with nothing to hold onto—no eyes to search for clues, no expressions to read.

In the rearview mirror, you sense Kieran shift his head to look at you but can't entirely tell, his hidden gaze offers you nothing. The silence stretches on, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the steady, deliberate breaths of Sylus against your neck, the heat of his body keeping you trapped in more ways than one.

Sylus holds you tight, as if the moment he loosens his grip, you’ll dissolve into the darkness beyond the windows. His large hands are splayed possessively across your thighs, pinning you in place on his lap. Each minute that ticks by in this confined space feels like a countdown to something you can’t define, but the feeling of impending dread settles deep in your bones.

Your mind is a storm, thoughts swirling in an endless, chaotic loop. The gunshot that ended Reese’s life thunders in your head, over and over, refusing to let you go. You can still see it so clearly—the way his body slumped to the floor, lifeless, his eyes wide with the shock of it all.

It feels like it’s eating you alive.

This is your fault.

Yes, Reese was a monster. He’d kidnapped you, lied to you, dragged you into a nightmare you never deserved. But even now, that part of you—the part that still clung to honor, to a sense of right and wrong, the part of an honorable deep space hunter—hated what had happened. You hated yourself for it. He should have been locked away, brought to justice, not gunned down like that.

Your chest tightens. Why didn’t you stop it? You could have, couldn’t you? You didn’t have to let your anger take over, didn’t have to spit those words at him, didn't have to tell him to go to hell. If you hadn’t done that, Sylus wouldn’t have killed him right? The weight of it presses down on you, like you’re suffocating under the guilt.

You can feel it in your bones—the sharp sting of your failure, the way you let your emotions run wild. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be the reason a person died, no matter how twisted or evil they were. You were supposed to be better than that.

But you weren’t.

And now Reese’s blood is on your hands.

The guilt coils tighter around your chest. You can almost taste the bitterness of it on your tongue, a relentless reminder of how you failed. Maybe if you had just kept your mouth shut. Maybe if you had found some way, any way, to de-escalate the situation, he’d still be alive. You wouldn't have to carry the weight of his death.

But you didn’t. And now it’s too late.

This is your fault.

You feel tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly suck in a breath, forcing them back. You can’t let them fall—not here, not now. You can’t let Sylus see the storm raging inside you. If he sees you faltering, sees your weakness, he’ll think he’s won.

You sense his eyes on you, watching, studying, but thankfully, he says nothing. His grip around you tightens slightly, as if he’s aware of the cracks forming in your resolve, but for once, he stays silent, leaving you alone with the war you’re fighting within yourself.

Instead of crying, you shift, turning your head to focus on the window. The dark tint makes it difficult to see clearly, but not impossible. You can just make out the blurred outlines of buildings as they whip past, vague shadows in the distance.

How much longer would this take? How far had you come?

You think back to the agonizing walk that had led you to the convenience store—the endless hours of trudging through unfamiliar streets, hoping for an escape. Time had lost all meaning then, just like it had now.

Lost in your thoughts, you feel your body betraying you, your exhaustion creeping in. You start to drift off against your will, feeling the heaviness pulling at your eyelids as you sink further into Sylus’s lap. You fight it, not wanting to rest your head on his chest, fearing what you might wake up to. But it’s been days since you’ve had proper rest, and the pull of sleep is relentless.

Minutes stretch into eternity, and despite your best efforts, your body begins to give in. You’re teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when suddenly, Sylus’s gruff voice cuts through the silence, startling you awake.

“Luke, tell the chefs to have dinner ready in an hour. Kieran, cancel my meeting with the general.”

Luke and Kieran both nod silently, their masked faces giving nothing away, and just as you’re trying to make sense of the words, the car abruptly comes to a stop.

“Yes, boss!” the twins respond with a clipped tones, as if this exchange is routine.

Everything happens so quickly. The moment the car parks, Luke and Kieran scramble out of their seats with swift, practiced efficiency. The sound of the doors opening and shutting echoes in the quiet night. Sylus shifts beneath you, opening his door, and you awkwardly slide off his lap, trying to maintain some semblance of balance as he exits the vehicle. You watch through strained, weary eyes as he steps out, his figure towering over the open car door. Then, he stretches out his hand toward you.

You hesitate.

The gesture, though outwardly polite, is anything but friendly. It’s not an offer—it’s a command, an unspoken reminder of your captivity. The world seems to close in around you, the air growing thicker, and your heart begins to pound in your chest. Your mind races, but there’s nowhere to run.

“If you’re thinking about driving off,” Sylus says with a low chuckle, leaning down to peer into the car, “Luke’s already got the keys, kitten.”

You can’t help but shoot him a sharp glare. You’d thought about running, yes, but not now—not when escape was utterly impossible. The moment passes quickly, and you open your mouth, wanting to explain yourself, to insist you weren’t planning anything. But the words stick in your throat, useless.

Instead, you shut your mouth, swallowing your frustration, and glare at him in defiance. Wordlessly, you reach out and take his hand. His grip is firm, possessive, as he helps you out of the car. Carefully, you step onto the ground, your heart still racing, knowing you’re walking back into your cage.

You glance around as Sylus pulls you forward, your hand still trapped in his. The sight of the mansion looms ahead, its grand, imposing silhouette becoming clearer with each step. Tall iron gates and bird statues loom in front of you, a place that might have been beautiful if it weren’t for the dread curling deep in your chest.

The mansion is more than just a building; it’s a cage, one that now feels even more suffocating as Sylus forces you to walk beside him, hand in hand like you’re something precious. But you know better. This is control, a quiet but undeniable display of power.

With each step toward the front door, the walls of the world seem to close in tighter, and your heart races faster. The echoes of your own footsteps blend with the eerie silence of the night, the only sound that reminds you how very trapped you are in this place—never truly alone, but never free either.

As you walk toward the towering front doors, your eyes drift upward, almost unconsciously, to Sylus. His appearance has always been striking—red eyes that seem to glow with a mix of malice and amusement, and white hair with subtle gray undertones, catching the faint light of the mansion. His angular features, so sharp and perfectly controlled, show signs of wear now. You can see the tension in his brow, the tiredness in the slight creases around his eyes—things you hadn’t noticed before. It makes you wonder how much stress your escape had caused him. How much had he sacrificed in the time you were gone? Had he been frantic, furious?

As if sensing your gaze, Sylus turns his head slightly, catching you in the act of studying him. A smirk plays across his lips, and his crimson eyes flicker with amusement. "What’s the matter? Falling in love?" His voice is a low drawl, teasing, but there’s something predatory in it—like he’s already enjoying this little game.

Heat rises to your face, a mixture of irritation and something else you refuse to name. You look away quickly, forcing yourself to focus on anything but him. His taunts are the last thing you want to entertain, especially when your mind is still spinning with the weight of what lies ahead. Still, the words linger, taunting you as much as his smirk did.

Finally, the massive front doors loom before you, framed by the same wrought iron and heavy stone that always made the mansion feel more like a fortress. Sylus stops, standing tall beside you, his hand still gripping yours as if to remind you that escape, or even defiance, is out of the question.

He gestures toward a small panel embedded into the wall near the door. "Lean down," he orders, the edge of his voice soft yet commanding, "in front of the scanner."

Confused, you glance between him and the scanner, unsure of what he’s planning. You hesitate, but his unblinking red gaze locks onto you, expectant, leaving you little choice. Slowly, you lean forward, lowering yourself until your eyes are aligned with the scanner. A soft beep fills the air, followed by a click as the door unlocks.

You straighten, startled, staring at the door in disbelief. "Wait," you stammer, turning to Sylus. "Aren’t you trying to prevent me from escaping?"

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head, the white strands of his hair shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his red eyes flashing with amusement. "Your eyes," he says with a grin, "can only get you into this place." He leans in further, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Not out."

His words settle heavily in your chest, and a knot of dread tightens in your stomach. Your eyes—the very thing that could open doors here—were also the key to locking you in. Any hope you might have had, any fleeting thought of escape, is crushed in that moment. The world seems to warp, the walls of the mansion now looming around you like a trap. A cage disguised as opulence.

Why had he even bothered with something like that? The thought gnaws at you as you stand at the threshold of the mansion. Did he seriously think you would ever want to come back inside? The idea seems absurd. You were his captive, forced into this nightmare. There was no version of this where you willingly returned.

But as you glance back at him, his smirk still lingering on his face, you wonder if that’s exactly what he wants. He’s a man who thrives on control, on bending people to his will, and the thought that he might relish the idea of making you come back to this place, on your own terms, sends a shiver down your spine. Would he leave you out there in that desolate city, waiting, desperate, only to watch you break down and crawl back inside? The idea feels like a twisted game only he could design—where escape was impossible not just because of physical barriers, but because he'd burrowed deep into your mind.

You shake your head, trying to push the thought away, but the question lingers, settling like a weight in your chest. Did he think that, over time, you’d surrender? That this grand mansion, this cage, would eventually become a place you’d walk into willingly?

Sylus catches your hesitation, his red eyes glinting in the low light. “Strange, isn’t it?” he muses, his voice smooth and casual, as if he could read the questions racing through your mind. “A key that only lets you in. But maybe someday…you'll want to use it.”

His words hang in the air, and you can feel your pulse quicken, anger mixing with the uncertainty swirling inside you. He can’t seriously believe that, can he? That one day you’d walk back into this place of your own accord?

The very thought of it makes your stomach turn. You can’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to stay away from here. Yet, there’s an unsettling confidence in the way he says it, a certainty that leaves you with more questions than answers.

“As if I would ever, prick,” you spat, your voice sharp and defiant.

Sylus laughs, his amusement rolling off him in deep waves, rich and unhurried. His red eyes gleam, locking onto yours with a look that holds something deeper than mere satisfaction. There’s affection there—twisted, yes, but genuine.

“Ah, there she is,” he murmurs, his grin widening. “I was starting to wonder if the N109 Zone had fully broken you.” His grip tightens, not painfully, but firm and reassuring, as he leads you into the grand mansion. To him, this was always meant to be your home, even if you couldn't see it yet.

You grimace at his words, irritation bubbling up inside you, making your heart race. This was still a game to him—a challenge, but not one born of cruelty. No, he found your defiance amusing, like a kitten batting at the hand that feeds it. He loved it, even.

You silently curse him under your breath as he leads you deeper into the grand house, your feet moving mechanically while your mind fights to keep up. The familiar sights come back into view, flooding your senses like a slow wave of nausea. The glossy black tile beneath your feet, the dark, lavish décor that loomed from every corner—it was all the same, just as cold and suffocating as you remembered.

Your eyes flick to the kitchen entryway, a place that had once offered a glimmer of hope, a chance to escape. You remember fleeing into it, heart racing, desperate to get away from all of this, only to be dragged back into Sylus’s grip. The memory gnaws at you, bringing a fresh wave of bitterness.

It makes you sick.

Every inch of this place, every dark aesthetic, seemed designed to remind you of your captivity. This was a cage, no matter how opulent or luxurious it appeared on the surface. And the worst part was the weight of his hand around yours—the possessiveness of his grip, the unspoken reminder that escape, no matter how hard you tried, was out of reach right now.

Sylus gently guides you toward the stairs, his grip still firm, giving you no room to hesitate. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as your feet start moving up the dark, winding staircase. Every step feels heavier than the last, your pulse thrumming in your ears as memories flood back—memories of when you had fled, heart racing, legs burning, desperate to escape this place. You’d made it down these very stairs once before, only to have freedom ripped away from you.

Now, you were being forced back up, step by agonizing step, into the room you had fought so hard to leave behind.

With every step upward, your resolve starts to crumble. The closer you get to that door, the more you feel the weight of your captivity settling in again, suffocating you. The darkened hallways, the oppressive silence—it all presses down on you, reminding you that no matter how much you fight, this is where you’ll always end up. Trapped.

You hesitate when you finally reach the door to the bedroom. The sight of it makes your stomach twist, your feet glued to the floor as a wave of dread washes over you. Everything in your body screams not to go inside, not to let yourself be locked in that room again. To run, to fight.

But Sylus is right behind you, close enough that you can feel his presence, his breath warm and steady, almost unnervingly calm. His grip on your hand softens, his thumb tracing a slow circle against your skin, as if to soothe your frayed nerves. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice gentle but laced with that unsettling authority. “Go on, sweetie.”

The way he says it is almost tender, but it only deepens the knot of anxiety in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s real kindness or just another layer of control. That soft, coaxing tone… it unnerves you more than his laughter, more than his taunts.

Despite every fiber of your being wanting to resist, you find yourself moving, stepping forward under the weight of his quiet insistence. You cross the threshold into the room, your body betraying you even as your mind screams to stop. The door clicks shut behind you with an almost imperceptible finality, and just like that, the familiar four dark walls of your prison close in around you once more.

You fight back the tears burning at the edges of your eyes as you step further into the room. The familiar surroundings feel like a punch to the gut—the large, imposing bed where Sylus had forced himself on you many many times, leaving behind scars you hadn’t realized had cut so deep. The leather couch in the center of the room, cold and impersonal, where you’d sat, waiting for the next wave of control to sweep over your life.

It’s too much.

For a moment, your knees threaten to buckle beneath you, the weight of it all pressing down with crushing force. The memories—dark, suffocating—swirl around you, making it hard to breathe. You almost crumble right there, unable to withstand the flood of emotions, of trauma that suddenly feels too close to the surface.

But before you can collapse, Sylus is there, his hand wrapping around your arm, guiding you away from the room and into the bathroom. His touch is firm but oddly gentle, a contrast that makes you even more uneasy. He’s pulling you toward the tiled space, and your mind races, trying to understand what’s happening as he begins to carefully, methodically, lift up your shirt to undress you.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of your own racing heartbeat. Your body goes stiff, your hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if holding onto it could somehow protect you. “No,” you repeat, a little louder this time, your voice shaky and uneven. The tremors wrack your body, panic rising in your chest.

Sylus looks at you with something akin to worry, his touch slowing, but not stopping. He doesn’t force you, but his actions continue with a sense of inevitability, as though he believes this is just part of taking care of you, of ensuring you’re where you belong.

"I'm not going to do anything to you now, you just need a shower, sweetie."

But your mind is somewhere else entirely.

Flashes of memory assault you—dim lights, the scent of damp stone, and the overpowering fear of when you were in that basement. The man who had tried to force himself on you, who had pressed you against the bed with a hunger that still made your skin crawl. Your breath hitches as you remember his hands, his twisted smile. The terror, the helplessness—it's all too real, crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

You hadn’t realized just how deeply the trauma had sunk into you. Not until this moment, with Sylus standing in front of you, touching your clothes, his touch too familiar, too close to the horror you’d endured. You had been holding your emotions back but you couldn't now.

You flinch, your body recoiling instinctively as the memories close in around you. Your voice cracks, barely holding back the sob building in your throat. “Please…don’t.”

Sylus’s hands pause, and for the first time that entire day, you see it,—hesitation flickering across his sharp features. His red eyes, usually so calculating and cold, soften just enough for you to notice. His grip loosens, his fingers no longer working to take off your clothes but instead resting lightly on your shoulders, as if afraid of causing more harm.

“Be still,” he says again, his voice quiet and strangely tender. “I’m just trying to help you.”

But his words barely register. The panic has already set in, tightening around your chest like a vice. Your breathing grows shallow, quick—too quick. Your thoughts scatter, your heartbeat hammering so hard it feels like your ribcage might shatter under the pressure. The room spins around you, and suddenly you’re not here anymore. You’re back in the basement, cold stone beneath your feet, that man’s hands on your skin, forcing you against the wall. Forcing you on the bed.

You gasp for air, but each breath comes in ragged, uneven bursts. Your vision blurs, and your knees wobble beneath you. It’s happening all over again. The helplessness, the terror. It’s like your body has been pulled back into that moment, and no matter how much you try to claw your way out, you can’t.

Sylus moves swiftly, pulling you into his arms before you can collapse. His embrace is strong and grounding, his chest solid against your trembling form. “Breathe, sweetie” he whispers, his voice low, soothing, as if trying to coax you back from the edge of your panic. His hand rubs slow circles on your back, the gentle rhythm fighting against the chaos inside you. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

But you can’t. The air won’t come. Your breaths are sharp and shallow, your body on the verge of shutting down as you feel the world slipping away. You struggle, pushing weakly at him, but his arms only tighten around you, holding you firmly in place, anchoring you.

“Shhh, shhh…” His voice drops even lower, soft and almost tender. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

The warmth of his body presses against yours, his presence somehow steadying the storm inside you. You eventually cling to him, not because you want to, but because it’s the only thing that keeps you from spiraling into complete panic. His hand continues to stroke your back in slow, measured motions, and though your heart still pounds in your chest, his touch starts to break through the suffocating fog.

“I’ll turn around, okay?” he says gently, as if sensing the root of your fear. “You can undress yourself. I won’t watch.”

There’s something in his tone—something that feels honest, reassuring, like he’s not just saying the words to control you but because he wants you to feel safe. You weakly nod, barely, but he catches it. He loosens his grip and takes a slow step back, raising his hands in surrender, his red eyes locked onto yours.

“I’ll give you some time. You don’t have to rush.”

With a careful turn, he faces away from you, his broad back filling the room but no longer imposing. His actions aren’t threatening; they’re deliberate, giving you the space he knows you need.

Your breathing slows and you blink back tears, but your body still trembles. You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes with a shaky hand, glancing around the bathroom as the panic begins to ebb. And then you notice it—something is different.

The bathtub is gone.

It had been there before, you remember. A large, ornate tub that had taken up the corner of the bathroom, a symbol of something luxurious in this prison of yours. But now, it’s nowhere to be seen. Your brows knit together in confusion as you stare at the empty space.

“Where’s the tub?” you ask, your voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Sylus doesn’t turn around, but his response is quick and calm, as if he expected the question. “I had it removed,” he says softly, his voice strangely careful, almost cautious. “I didn’t want you to drown yourself again.”

The words hit you like a slap, sharp and unexpected. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of what he’s saying sinks in. He thought…no, he knew. He knew how deep the darkness inside you could go, how close you’d come to actually dying. He’d taken precautions—not just to keep you here, but to keep you alive.

You stand there, frozen, staring at the empty space where the bathtub used to be, and the reality sinks in—there’s truly no escape. Not from this place, not from Sylus, and not from the relentless grip of your own mind. He’s stripped you of every option, every avenue, until there’s nothing left but this.

Nothing left but him.

The exhaustion presses down on you, heavier than ever before. With slow, mechanical movements, you step into the shower, your limbs feeling distant, as if they don’t belong to you anymore. The warm water hits your skin, but it does nothing to ease the weight in your chest. You close your eyes, hoping that the steady stream of water can drown out the chaos inside your head—the panic, the hopelessness, the memories.

But they cling to you, stubborn and unyielding.

Images flash behind your closed eyelids—memories of that basement, the cold stone walls pressing in, the terror that gripped you when the man came too close, his hands reaching, his breath sour. You press your hands against the tiled wall, your body shaking as you fight the memories back, but they keep coming, like waves crashing over you, dragging you under.

And then there’s Reese.

You can’t stop seeing it—the moment his body hit the floor, the sound of the fatal gunshot echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. His face, twisted in shock and pain. Your fault. The words circle in your mind like a dark mantra, mixing with the trauma of that basement. It’s all tangled together, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make it stop.

"Go to hell, Reese."

The water cascades down your back, but it doesn’t wash away the guilt. It doesn’t drown out the horror. The images of blood and brain matter sliding down concrete walls.

You press your forehead against the cold tile, letting the water soak through your hair as you fight the rising tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. You want to believe that there’s a way out, some form of freedom—maybe not from this mansion, but at least from the grip of your own mind. But right now, standing under the relentless stream of water, you know that freedom is further away than ever.

No matter how much you fight it, you’re trapped. Inside this house. Inside yourself.

And the worst part? Sylus knows it.

You feel the tears begin to well up, hot and uncontainable, spilling over before you even realize you’ve let them go. They mix with the water, disappearing beneath the steady stream of the shower, unseen, unclaimed by anyone but you. For the first time in what feels like forever, no one is watching. Not even Sylus.

You let the sobs come quietly, your body trembling as the tears fall, merging with the warm cascade. It’s a strange relief, knowing that in this moment, he isn’t witnessing your breaking point. Sylus had made it clear—your pain, your misery, your tears, they all belonged to him.

But right now, this moment is yours.

As the tears fall silently, you press your forehead against the cool tile, letting yourself cry in a way you hadn’t allowed before. The sobs are shaky, barely audible over the sound of the water, but they are real, raw, and they are yours alone. The stream washes them away before they have the chance to leave a trace, like they never existed at all.

Even as your heart aches and the trauma still weighs you down, there’s a strange comfort in the tears that go unnoticed. For just these few minutes, you aren’t his broken thing to fix or keep. You’re just a person, trying to survive, trying to breathe.

And even though the water doesn’t drown out all the pain or the memories, it gives you enough space to let the emotions pour out—if only for a little while.

Xavier’s breath came in shallow bursts as he navigated the empty streets of Linkon City, the familiar hum of his hunter’s watch glowing faintly on his wrist. His blue eyes flicked between the road and the holographic screen hovering just above the watch face. The blue light illuminated his face, highlighting the sharp focus in his eyes. The signal from the phone booth was still there, blinking steadily. That was his main lead—the last place you’d been before everything went silent.

His mind replayed the sound of your voice from the call, every word etched into his memory. Kidnapped. You hadn’t said much, but the panic in your tone had been unmistakable. The moment the call cut, something in him snapped. There was no hesitation, no second thought—he had left almost immediately, speeding through the city, your trembling words echoing in his head.

"Yeah, his name is S—"

Your words echoed in Xavier's mind, over and over, like a haunting refrain. You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before the call had abruptly cut out, leaving him with nothing but that single, meaningless syllable. S. It replayed in his head as the car sped forward, finally breaking free from the limits of Linkon City and onto the dark, winding road that would lead him toward the N109 Zone.

He had tried to call back the second the line went dead, his hands trembling as he frantically redialed the number, but it was no use. The call wouldn’t connect. Maybe you had run out of money for the payphone. Maybe something far worse had happened.

The not knowing gnawed at him.

Who was S? The question had burned in his mind from the moment you said it. A name. It had to be a name. But just that one letter wasn’t enough to figure out who this person was, let alone why they had taken you. He cursed under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the dark road stretched out before him.

Whoever S was, they were dangerous enough to bring you to the N109 Zone. That part made his blood run cold. This place wasn’t just desolate—it was the kind of area that most people in the city pretended didn’t even exist. It was lawless, forgotten. A place where the desperate went to disappear, where the city’s darkness festered beneath the surface and on top of it, darkness everywhere you turn.

But why there? What did this S want with you? And why take you so far from the city?

He replayed the phone call in his mind again, your voice shaky but steady as you’d tried to tell him what had happened. The fear had been there, simmering just beneath your words, but you had clearly fought to stay calm.

Xavier’s heart pounded harder with every mile. There was something else that bothered him, something gnawing at the edges of his mind. Why had you been targeted? You were strong, capable—smart. One of the best deep space hunters around. You wouldn’t have let yourself be taken easily. That meant whoever S was, he’d planned this, thought it through, and knew how to get to you. That thought made Xavier’s stomach twist. This wasn’t random. It was calculated.

The car hit a bump in the road, jolting him back to the present, but his mind still raced. He needed to find you, needed to get to you before this S—whoever he was—did something unforgivable. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being out there, scared and alone, waiting for help that felt too far away.

He glanced at the holographic display on his hunter’s watch again, watching as the faint signal pulsed from the N109 Zone. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it was the best lead he had. That phone booth, that single clue you’d left him before the call ended, was his only connection to you now.

Who are you, S? The question echoed in his mind as he pressed down harder on the gas pedal, the car roaring down the empty highway.

He didn’t know what awaited him in the N109 Zone, but he knew one thing for sure: he was prepared to fight like hell for you.

After what felt like an eternity, buildings whipping past him, Xavier finally pulled up to the phone booth, his heart hammering in his chest. The headlights illuminated the cracked pavement and the battered glass of the booth, standing alone at the edge of the desolate lot like a ghost from another time. But of course, you weren’t there. The booth was empty. You were nowhere to be found.

Xavier’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as he sat there for a moment, staring at the empty phone booth. His mind raced, thoughts tangled in frustration and fear. You had told him you would call back—you had said you were going to that strange man’s house, and then you’d come back to tell him what it looked like. But now, standing there in the middle of the N109 Zone, it felt like that plan had shattered into a thousand pieces.

He stepped out of the car, the cold air hitting him like a slap to the face as he approached the booth. His eyes scanned the area, up and down, looking for any sign of you. But there was nothing. Just silence. The eerie kind that made his stomach twist with unease.

The booth was run-down, even worse up close. He stared at it, his thoughts flickering between panic and regret. Should he wait for you to come back, as you said you would? Or had something already gone terribly wrong? Every second that passed felt like a ticking clock, time slipping away, leaving him more uncertain than ever.

He leaned against the booth, raking a hand through his hair, trying to decide. You had been so determined—so sure you could handle this. You’d said you were going to check out this strange man’s house, get some rest, and then return. But the thought of you going there alone, to that man—whoever he was—made him sick.

I should’ve told you not to go with him.

The regret hit him hard, twisting deep in his chest. He should’ve been more forceful, should’ve stopped you. The second you’d mentioned this man, this stranger who had somehow convinced you to follow him, alarm bells had gone off in his head. He had sensed something wasn’t right. Why hadn’t he told you to stay away? Why hadn’t he made sure you didn’t go?

But you were strong, capable—you had always been stubborn, determined to handle things on your own. And he had trusted you to do that. But now…now you were missing. And he was standing in an empty lot with no idea where you were or who had taken you.

Xavier clenched his fists, staring at the phone booth as if willing it to give him answers. The last place you had been. He thought about turning around, driving through the N109 Zone, checking every corner, every building. But the reality of how vast and dangerous this area was made him hesitate. He didn’t even know who to look for. S. The mysterious man whose name had been cut off by the phone’s disconnect. That wasn’t enough.

Xavier’s stomach growled, pulling him from the fog of his frantic thoughts. He hadn’t eaten properly in hours, and the adrenaline that had been fueling him was finally wearing thin. He gritted his teeth, the pang of hunger a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since he’d stopped moving. He didn’t want to waste time, but he knew he needed to eat, to think straight.

Reluctantly, he climbed back into the car and started driving, scanning the streets of the N109 Zone for anything that looked remotely functional. This part of the city was basically wasteland—most of the buildings were crumbling, their windows broken, and the streets were nearly empty. He almost decided to give up before spotting a flicker of neon in the distance.

It was a convenience store—small, dingy, and barely lit—but it was open. The cracked neon sign buzzed weakly, casting a dull glow over the entrance. It didn’t look promising, but it was all he had. He pulled up, the car’s tires crunching over the broken pavement as he parked.

Xavier stepped out, his eyes narrowing as he approached the entrance. The store looked as worn out as the rest of the area, its windows covered in grime and dust, but the lights inside told him it was still in business. He pushed the door open, the warmth of the store enveloping him.

The place reeked of stale air and something faintly metallic. Shelves lined the narrow aisles, most of them half-stocked but there was variety. Xavier grabbed a few snacks—whatever looked edible—and made his way to the counter, where a grimy man with disheveled hair and yellowed teeth sat behind the register, staring at him with a disinterested scowl.

“Do you take gold?” Xavier asked, pulling out a small pouch from his pocket. It wasn’t unusual for places outside Linkon City to not take gold, as a lot of places were still living in the past. Couldn't hurt to ask though.

The man behind the counter laughed, a rough, guttural sound that made Xavier’s skin crawl. “Gold, huh? Figures. You Linkcunt folks just keep coming in here actin’ like it’s worth more than it is.” He leaned forward, eyeing Xavier with something between amusement and suspicion.

"No, we don't take it."

Xavier pocketed the small pouch, unsurprised by the man's harsh words, “You said Linkon folks? Who else from the city has been here?” His tone was casual, but his heart skipped a beat. Maybe someone else had seen you?

"Linkcunt," the man corrected with a sneer. The man’s eyes flicked up, narrowing slightly. “Why, you looking for someone?” He eyed Xavier and leaned back in his chair, his voice taking on an edge of curiosity.

Xavier pressed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Maybe. Just wondering who else might’ve been through here recently.”

The man scratched his stubbled chin, considering. “Well, there was this disheveled-looking girl who came through a little while ago. Had a lot of attitude, that one. Demanding help. Swiped some snacks and shit when I wasn’t looking. Took off before I could do anything about it.” He shrugged, clearly not too bothered by the theft. “But that’s basically all I know.”

Xavier’s heart stopped. A disheveled girl… Could it have been you?

His pulse quickened, the pieces clicking together. You must have come through here before disappearing. The man didn’t seem to know much more, but this was a sign. You had been close—you had been right here.

“What’d she look like?” Xavier asked, trying not to sound too eager.

The man waved a hand lazily. “Didn't look that closely to be honest. Bitch looked like hell, though. Clothes all messed up, like she’d been through something. But she was quick—didn’t stick around long enough for me to really notice much else. Don’t know where she went after that. Just up and vanished with my stock”

Xavier nodded, feeling a surge of both hope and frustration. You’d been here, that much was clear. But now you were gone again, slipping through his fingers like a ghost.

"You really shouldn't talk about women like that".

He paid for the snacks with some dollar bills he kept in his car for out of city trips, and turned to leave, leaving the disgruntled cashier. His mind already racing to figure out where you could’ve gone from here.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped back outside, the cold night air hitting him like a wall. You’d been here. Not long ago, from the sound of it. He could almost picture it—your disheveled form rushing through the aisles, grabbing whatever you could before vanishing into the shadows again. You were close, too close to give up now. But where had you gone?

He clenched his jaw, glancing around the empty streets. There were too many directions, too many places you could have disappeared to. The N109 Zone was vast, a labyrinth of forgotten corners and abandoned buildings, and there was no telling where you might have run off to next.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of the little he knew. You had come here to get food, maybe out of desperation—running on fear and adrenaline. And then, like the man said, you were gone. No tracks, no sign of where you’d been taken.

Xavier pulled a crumpled pamphlet out of his jacket pocket, his fingers brushing over the faded image of a sleek pair of boots. It was the same pamphlet the shoe store clerk had given him earlier, and now, it seemed like his only other lead. A shoe store… It might seem like a stretch, but he had learned to follow even the smallest clues. If he couldn’t figure out where you had gone, maybe he could figure out more about the man who had taken you. And starting with something as small as his shoes might just be the break he needed.

He studied the pamphlet again, his eyes narrowing as he recalled his brief conversation with the clerk. The shoes had been expensive, high-end—definitely not something most people in the N109 Zone would be wearing.

But S wasn’t like most people, was he?

Xavier’s mind spun as he hurriedly typed the address from the pamphlet into his hunter’s watch, the holographic screen glowing softly as it processed the information. The watch pinged, highlighting the location of the store in the city. It wasn’t far, but it was a place he wouldn’t have expected someone from the N109 Zone to frequent.

If S was wearing those shoes, it meant he had money—or at least access to it. That was something Xavier could work with. People like that left trails, even in places where they thought they could stay hidden.

He started the car again, his pulse quickening as the watch projected the route onto the windshield. The shoe store was his next stop, and if he was lucky, he could get more information about who S really was. Maybe someone there had seen him, or better yet, could point him in the direction of where he lived or did business.

As the car sped toward the heart of the city, Xavier’s determination sharpened. He was getting closer to answers—closer to finding you. If he could learn more about this mysterious man, this “S,” then maybe, just maybe, he could figure out where you were being held.

As Xavier sped through the dark, crumbling streets of the N109 Zone, the world outside his car blurred into a mix of shadows and faint streetlights. His mind was focused on finding you, piecing together the next step in his search. Then, out of nowhere, a piercing scream shattered the stillness.

His foot slammed on the brake, the car lurching to a stop as his heart raced. The sound of the scream echoed through the desolate streets, raw and desperate. He scanned the area frantically, searching for the source of the cry for help. Then he saw her—a woman stumbling into the dim light from a broken streetlamp, clutching her side, her face twisted in pain.

“Help! Please, help me!” she gasped, her voice cracking with panic as she looked directly at him, her body collapsing onto the cracked pavement.

Xavier’s hunter instincts kicked in immediately. He couldn’t just leave someone like that. He shoved the car door open and rushed toward her, his eyes darting around, looking for any potential danger. The streets of the N109 Zone were unpredictable, but he couldn't just ignore someone in need.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm as he knelt down beside her.

The woman’s breathing was shallow, her face pale and contorted with pain. She clutched her ribs, wincing with every breath. “I don’t know,” she whimpered, “I was attacked. I need help… please…” Her eyes were wild with fear, darting between Xavier and the shadows beyond, as if expecting someone—or something—to come after her at any moment.

Xavier’s heart pounded, his mind racing. “I’ll get you some help,” he assured her, reaching for his phone. But as he fumbled for it, he felt a shift—something wasn’t right.

The woman’s eyes flicked over his shoulder, her panic momentarily replaced by something colder, more calculating. Before he could react, a blur of movement rushed behind him.

A sharp clink. The keys.

Xavier’s blood ran cold as he spun around, just in time to see a man slip past him, keys glinting in his hand. The stranger, quick and agile, darted toward Xavier’s car, jumping into the driver’s seat. How did I not see this coming? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—this was a setup.

“Hey!” Xavier yelled, lunging forward, his heart hammering in his chest. But it was too late.

The woman, now standing tall with no trace of pain or injury, smirked at him, her expression smug and mocking. “Thanks for the ride, city boy,” she sneered, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she ran toward the passenger side of the car. She moved easily now, as if the earlier fear and desperation had been nothing but an act. It had been.

Xavier’s mind raced as he sprinted toward the car, but the engine roared to life before he could even get close. The man in the driver’s seat gunned the accelerator, the tires screeching against the pavement as the car sped away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.

His heart sank as he watched the taillights disappear into the darkness, the weight of the situation crashing down on him. His car. His keys. Everything—gone in an instant. And with it, any chance of quickly finding you.

He'd have to walk on foot.

The steam from the shower still clung to your skin as you stepped out, your mind swirling in a haze of exhaustion and hunger. Your stomach growled loudly, reminding you just how long it had been since you last ate. The hot water had done little to wash away the weight of everything pressing down on you—the memories, the fear—but it had, at least, cleaned the grime from your body. You were left feeling raw and exposed, unsure of what was coming next.

You opened the glass door of the shower and grabbed a towel laying on the counter, wrapping it around yourself quickly before exiting.

You saw Sylus had elected to lean against the doorframe when you stepped out, and he turned around to face you. His eyes, those sharp, red eyes, softened when they met yours. "The chef has prepared food for you," he said, his voice gentle. The tenderness in his tone felt unnerving, like everything else with him, but the thought of food was too tempting to resist.

But before you could respond, he gestured to a set of neatly prepared shopping bags laid on his bed outside the bathroom. “I want you to open these first. Consider them gifts I had planned for you… before you ran off.” The edge in his words lingered, but his expression remained neutral. You vaguely remembered him clipping your nails while you were in the bathtub, a pile of shopping bags at his feet.

Ah, you had forgotten all about those. You wrapped the towel around yourself tighter, a knot of discomfort forming in your stomach.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly approached the bed, your hands trembling slightly as you began to take out the "gifts". The first bag contained delicate pieces of underwear—soft, lace, and undeniably expensive. You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of unease crawl up your spine.

“Gifts for me? Or for you to see on me?” you muttered, unable to hide the malice in your voice, the bitterness slipping out.

Sylus’s lips quirked into a small, amused smile, his red eyes flickering with that familiar, unsettling glint. "Why not both?," he replied softly, the weight of his gaze lingering on you as though he found your defiance amusing.

These weren’t just clothes; they were symbols of his control, of how he saw you. Like you were his little doll to dress up. Still, you nodded hesitantly, accepting the garments with quiet reluctance.

Beneath the underwear were more practical clothes—soft, comfortable tops, leggings, and dresses. Each piece was chosen carefully, and despite yourself, you appreciated the effort, if only because you were desperate for something to wear to avoid Sylus's lingering gaze on your damp body. You chose a simple, slightly loose white dress, letting it fall over your damp skin. Then slipped on one of the many underwear he had bought for you. Sylus watched you quietly, a small smile playing on his lips as he waited for you to finish.

“You might've lost a few pounds from stress, once you start eating more, it’ll fit better,” he said casually, his tone matter-of-fact as though he hadn’t just casually referenced your weakened state. The words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of how long you'll be trapped here. Then, with a surprising softness, he added, “You look beautiful nonetheless, honey.”

“Honey.” A new pet name.

Surprisingly, instead of making you grimace like his usual endearments, it sends an unwelcome heat crawling across your face. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to react, but the flush is unmistakable. Against your will, your gaze drops, and you look away from him, the sudden surge of embarrassment catching you off guard.

Sylus notices, of course. His smile deepens slightly, a quiet satisfaction flickering in his eyes as if he can sense the effect his words have on you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his gaze on you—steady, watchful—his presence filling the room in an unnerving way that makes it harder to breathe.

He extended his hand toward you, the gesture oddly tender and yet impossible to trust. You hesitated, unsure if taking it would solidify his power over you further or if refusing would draw out something worse. But you take it, residing to the fact that you didn't have much choice.

He moved toward the door, your hand held in his grip. “Come,” he said. “The food is waiting.”

Your stomach growled again, and despite the tension between you and him, you found yourself trailing after him, your body driven by the gnawing hunger you couldn’t ignore. As you stepped into the dining hall, the rich, mouth-watering aroma of freshly prepared food hit you like a wave.

The table was filled with an extravagant feast. Platters of roasted meats sat alongside bowls of vibrant vegetables, glistening under the kitchen lights. There were thick, tender cuts of lamb, still steaming from the oven, their edges crisp and golden. Roasted chicken, its skin perfectly browned and seasoned with herbs, sat atop a bed of caramelized onions and garlic. Beside them, a platter of seared duck breast, cooked to perfection, its fat rendered into a rich, savory glaze.

On another side of the table were bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, rich and buttery, their surface dusted with flecks of chives. A dish of roasted root vegetables—carrots, parsnips, and beets—was arranged in a beautiful display, their edges crisp and caramelized, drizzled with a balsamic glaze. There was a vibrant salad of mixed greens, tossed with fresh pomegranate seeds, crumbled goat cheese, and candied walnuts, the dressing a light, tangy vinaigrette that made your mouth water.

A basket of freshly baked bread sat in the center of the table, the rolls warm and soft, their golden crusts begging to be torn apart. Small bowls of whipped butter, infused with honey and herbs, accompanied them, the scent sweet and savory.

But it didn’t stop there. Desserts, too, were laid out, tempting you even further. A decadent chocolate tart with a glossy ganache topping, dusted with powdered sugar and fresh raspberries, sat next to a platter of delicate fruit tarts, their centers brimming with custard and topped with glistening berries. A tower of macarons in various pastel shades—lavender, pistachio, rose—completed the lavish display.

Sylus pulled out a chair for you, his smile widening as he watched your eyes dart from one dish to the next. "Well don't just stare, sit down".

The sight and smell overwhelmed you, and for a moment, you felt like a prisoner presented with a royal meal, knowing full well the chains still bound you. But hunger gnawed at your insides, and no matter how conflicted you were, your body screamed for sustenance as you sat.

"Eat," Sylus urged, taking a seat across from you. His eyes never left yours, watching, waiting for your reaction.

Your hand trembled slightly as you reached for a piece of bread, the warmth of it soothing in your palm. You tore it open, the soft dough yielding beneath your fingers, and dipped it into the whipped honey butter, taking a small bite. The flavors burst in your mouth, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief.

The food was perfect—too perfect. And as you took another bite, you couldn’t help but wonder: was this all part of the game too? Or was it simply nourishment after the storm?

Sylus leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you as you ate, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak, just watched you in that unsettling, familiar way—like he was always studying you, always thinking, always planning. His silence, for once, was almost a relief, allowing you to focus on the food and ignore his presence as much as possible.

You couldn’t help it. The hunger gnawed at you, and the feast before you was impossible to resist. The flavors were rich, the textures comforting, and before you realized it, you had cleared almost four plates. Each bite had momentarily dulled the chaos in your mind, letting you push aside the fear, the memories, and the discomfort that still lingered in your chest.

Sylus didn’t comment as you reached for more, nor did he interrupt. He seemed content to let you eat in peace, his eyes never leaving you but his lips remaining closed. It wasn’t until you finally pushed the last plate away, feeling the fullness settle in your stomach, that the silence between you felt heavier.

The weight of exhaustion began to settle over you. The warmth from the food and the sheer relief of being full left you feeling heavy, your eyelids growing heavier by the minute. You hadn’t realized just how tired you were until that moment. Your body felt like it had finally reached its limit.

Sylus stood up, breaking the silence. His movements were smooth and deliberate as he pushed his chair back, his gaze never leaving you. “You must be tired,” he said softly, the same unnerving tenderness in his voice as before. “It’s time for bed.”

You tensed slightly at his words, but your body, worn down by hunger and stress, didn’t have the strength to protest. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid of what might come out if you did. There was no point in resisting, not tonight.

Sylus moved toward you, his hand extending again as if offering comfort. You hesitated, looking at his outstretched hand, but you didn’t have the energy to reject him. You let him guide you, his touch gentle yet firm as he led you toward the bedroom you were dreading your return to.

You don’t remember when exactly you slipped into unconsciousness, but the world had faded into nothing after Sylus lifted you into the bed. His arms were unexpectedly gentle, cradling you with a kind of care that felt entirely out of place. You were vaguely aware of him pulling the blankets up around you, tucking you in, but then everything went dark. The exhaustion you had been fighting all day finally consumed you, and you sank into the deepest sleep you’d felt in what seemed like forever.

There was comfort in the darkness, the kind of peace that only comes with complete surrender to sleep. No fear, no panic, just the void. You floated there, cradled in warmth. But soon, the darkness gave way to a dream, vivid and consuming.

Xavier appeared first, stepping out of the shadows of your mind. His familiar figure brought an immediate sense of relief. His ashy blonde hair fell into his face, and his striking blue eyes bore into you with the same warmth and intensity that always made your heart flutter. There he was, just as you remembered—strong, dependable, and safe. He reached out, his hand extending toward you, and without hesitation, you moved toward him.

The moment your hand met his, your heart melted, the overwhelming sense of security flooding through you. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt safe. You felt home.

But something changed.

Xavier’s gaze, once filled with affection and care, shifted. His eyes darkened, turning cold, distant. The warmth you’d found in his presence quickly evaporated, replaced by something harsh and unfamiliar. His lips curled downward, a shadow crossing his face, and his grip on your hand tightened. The shift was sudden, the dream warping around you like a twisted reflection of reality.

"Why did you want him dead?" His voice cut through the dream, sharp and cold, the softness you’d expected from him nowhere to be found.

You blinked, confusion gripping you as his words sank in. “Huh?” Your face faltered, your heart pounding in your chest. His cold stare drilled into you, and you could feel something inside you cracking under its weight. What was happening?

"You're the reason Reese is dead," Xavier said, his words landing like a punch to the gut. His voice, usually so steady, so comforting, was now filled with anger, with accusation. His grip on your hand turned painful, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost crushing force.

“No...” Your voice wavered, barely able to push the word out as your mind reeled. “That wasn’t my fault, it was Sy—” You tried to explain, to say anything to stop the blame from settling on your shoulders. But the words caught in your throat, and you couldn’t finish. You couldn’t get them out.

His face twisted, contorting with anger and something that looked like disappointment. His blue eyes, once a source of warmth, were now filled with icy judgment, the coldness sinking into your skin like knives. His grip tightened further, pain shooting through your hand, but no matter how hard you tried to pull away, you couldn’t escape.

The dream around you blurred, the edges of reality warping and distorting. The ground beneath you seemed to shift, unsteady, while Xavier's figure loomed larger, his presence suffocating. The weight of his blame pressed down on your chest like a stone, suffocating you, filling your lungs with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

You tried to explain again, your voice strangled by the intensity of the moment, but Xavier wasn’t listening. His hand was like a vice, his fingers digging into your skin as his gaze pinned you in place. His words repeated in your mind, echoing louder and louder—“You're the reason he’s dead.”

Xavier's face began to twist, distorting into something grotesque, something no longer human. His once gentle features morphed and stretched unnaturally, his blue eyes darkening into hollow, accusing pits. His grip on your hand became unbearable, crushing the bones in your fingers as his form continued to change, shifting from the man you loved into a nightmare. The warmth that had briefly comforted you was gone, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling cold.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to pull away, but the force holding you was relentless. You stared in horror as Xavier’s form became unrecognizable, his skin taking on a gray, cracked texture, his mouth elongating into a grimace filled with sharp teeth. His eyes, now nothing more than deep, empty voids, bore into you with a hatred that sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re a murderer,” the figure spat, its voice now a low, guttural growl that echoed in your ears, far louder than it should have been. “Murderer.” The word hit you like a physical blow, making your entire body tense as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“No…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you desperately tried to defend yourself. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t—”

“You have blood on your hands!” the figure roared, its voice shaking the world around you. Xavier’s face continued to twist and contort, veins bulging from his neck, his body looming over you like a towering monster. “You told him to die!”

The words echoed again and again, crashing into you with the force of a tidal wave. The weight of guilt slammed into your chest, almost knocking the wind out of you as the grotesque version of Xavier leaned in closer. His voice became more vicious, more unforgiving. “You let him die, and now the blood is on your hands!”

You looked down, and your breath caught in your throat. Blood. It was everywhere—on your hands, dripping from your fingers, pooling at your feet. Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you tried to wipe it away, but no matter how hard you scrubbed, the blood only seemed to multiply, staining your skin, your clothes, everything around you.

“You’ll never wash it off!” the figure screamed, its voice shaking with rage. “Never!” It grabbed your shoulders, shaking you violently as it continued to scream. “You’re a murderer!

You struggled, trying to pull free, but the figure’s grip was unbreakable. The dream spiraled into chaos, the world around you collapsing into darkness as the screams filled the air, overwhelming your senses. The blood seemed to rise like a tide, crawling up your arms, soaking through your skin. You gasped for air, but it was suffocating, the guilt swallowing you whole.

“Murderer!” the figure roared again, louder this time, shaking you until your vision blurred. “Murderer! Murderer!"

Tears streamed down your face as you tried to shake your head, to deny it, but the accusations wouldn’t stop. The guilt, the blood, the rage—it was all around you, suffocating you, crushing you.

And then, just as quickly as it began, the figure stopped. It stood over you, silent now, but its eyes—those hollow, accusing voids—were locked onto you. “You can never escape what you’ve done,” it whispered, the venom in its voice chilling you to the core.

You shot up in bed, heart hammering in your chest, a scream tearing through your throat before you even knew what was happening. The sheets clung to your sweat-soaked skin as you gasped for breath, the nightmare still gripping you in its suffocating hold. Your hands shook violently, fingers instinctively rubbing at your palms, expecting to see the blood, the thick, crimson stain that had haunted you moments before.

But there was no blood.

The room was dark, dimly lit by a lamp settled on the nightstand. Sylus sat beside you, awake, casually reading a book. His red eyes glanced up from the pages, calm and steady, showing no sign of surprise at your sudden outburst.

“You’re okay,” Sylus said softly, his voice low but steady. He closed the book, setting it aside as he reached out, pulling you closer, into his arms with a gentle grip. The warmth of his body on yours was meant to be comforting, but the lingering terror from the dream made his touch feel heavier, suffocating.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, the echoes of the nightmare still gripping you. The blood, the screams, the weight of guilt—it all felt so real, too real to shake off. Your hands trembled in your lap, still trying to rub away the invisible stain that wouldn’t leave.

“Shhh,” Sylus soothed, his voice soft as he stroked your back with deliberate calmness. “It was just a nightmare, kitten.”

But his words barely penetrated the thick fog of panic swirling in your mind. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to steady your breathing, but the image of Xavier’s cold, accusing gaze still lingered in the corners of your thoughts, leaving an ache in your chest that refused to fade.

Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. He was patient, his grip around you getting stronger as you fought to regain control, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern, though it was impossible to tell how much of it was real. He watched you wordlessly, waiting patiently for your breathing to slow as he rubbed your back in soothing motions.

And you did, eventually. Slowly, your heartbeat began to slow, the cold sweat drying on your skin as the nightmare finally started to loosen its grip. You were still shaken, but reality was settling back in.

Sylus smiled, his eyes softening slightly. “Good girl,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You feel better?"

"It's not my fault..." you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as tears began streaming down your face, hot and unstoppable. The weight of the nightmare still pressed against your chest, the guilt wrapping itself around your heart. "Reese... I told him to die, kinda. But you killed him!"

Your words trembled in the air, and for a moment, the room felt suffocatingly silent. Sylus’s arm stilled on your back, his red eyes watching you closely. His face remained calm, unreadable, but something flickered behind his gaze—curiosity, perhaps, or even amusement. He began rubbing your back again.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and steady as he spoke. “I killed him because he took what was mine,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t pull the trigger, I did. Don’t fool yourself, sweetie.” His fingers gently wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks, lingering on your skin a second longer than necessary.

“His fate was sealed the moment he touched you. You’re not responsible for his death.”

Your heart ached, the confusion and guilt twisting inside you. The memory of Reese's lifeless body, the sound of the gunshot, played over and over in your mind. You knew that Sylus had been the one to end it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your words, your anger, had driven the final nail in the coffin.

"But I—" you started, your voice cracking, but Sylus shushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Don’t burden yourself,” he whispered, his voice soothing but firm. “Reese was a pest, and pests are dealt with. It wasn’t your fault. You said what you needed to say in the moment” His eyes softened, his gaze almost affectionate. “And now, you’re here—with me. Safe.”

"Am I?" you sobbed, the weight of your emotions crashing down on you all at once. The tears came faster, and with them, the memory of that night—the night Sylus had taken everything into his own hands, literally. The sharp pain, the feeling of your skin being sliced open as he calmly removed your birth control implant, resurfaced in vivid detail. The raw fear that had gripped you then returned now, surging like a wave you couldn't hold back.

"At least Reese never hurt me," you choked out between sobs, your voice trembling, barely holding together. "You, on the other hand..."

Your hand instinctively went to your arm, tracing the faint scar left behind from when Sylus had decided, without a second thought, that he would control every part of you—inside and out. The scar was still there, but it wasn’t just on your skin. The memory of that violation ran deeper than any wound that could heal.

Sylus’s expression didn’t shift at your words. His calm gaze remained fixed on you, though there was a slight narrowing of his eyes. His hand paused in its comforting motions, hovering just inches from you, as if calculating how to respond.

“I did what was necessary,” he said, his voice calm, controlled, almost dismissive. "Everything I’ve done has been for you. For us. Why are you crying over a man that handed you and countless others over for crack?"

The flood of emotions broke through all at once at his words.

"Because-because he wasn't supposed to die. Hunters aren't the reason people die, we save people...he could've went to jail he wasn't supposed to-"

You crumpled, sobs wracking your body as the weight of everything—of all you had endured—became too much to bear. Memories you had tried to suppress, to bury deep within you, rose to the surface like dark waves crashing against fragile walls.

The man from the basement. His hands grabbing you, the smell of his breath, the sheer terror that had paralyzed you as he tried to force himself on you. You had fought, screamed, but the memory was still there, etched into your mind like a brand that would never fade. The nightmare you had just woken from had only served to rip open the scars you had so desperately tried to heal.

Your words came out in broken fragments, incoherent between sobs. "That other man…he tried… I couldn’t— I couldn’t stop him…" Your voice cracked, your chest heaving as you babbled through the memories, the trauma wrapping itself around you like a suffocating shroud. "He—he wouldn’t stop… I couldn’t breathe, I was so scared…"

You weren’t even sure Sylus was listening. You couldn’t look at him. Everything blurred together, your mind overwhelmed by the pain, the helplessness, the feeling of being trapped again in that moment. You curled in on yourself, trembling as the sobs became uncontrollable, the terror of that night suffocating you all over again.

Then you felt it—Sylus’s hand, soft and deliberate, gently cradling your cheek. He leaned in, his voice softening into something almost unbearably tender, a tone you never thought he was capable of.

"Poor thing, you're such a mess," he murmured.

His eyes lingered on you with a mix of pity and affection, as though you were something fragile, something cherished. It was as if watching you unravel before him caused his heart to ache.

“I can help you forget,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away your tears with slow, careful strokes. “Let me take the pain away, kitten. You don’t have to carry it anymore.”

His words were soothing, like a lullaby coaxing you away from the edge of your breakdown. His touch was uncharacteristically soft, his presence surrounding you like a cocoon, making it harder to pull yourself out of the depths of your despair. For a brief moment, the way he looked at you—like he truly cared—made you falter.

You hesitate at his words. The rational part of your mind urged you to turn away, not to respond. To pull yourself from his embrace and fight him. But the other part, muddled by trauma, drove you to stay. To seek comfort, any comfort, even in his arms.

From your captor of all people.

“Yes…” you whimpered, blinking away tears. You didn’t know why you answered that way—your mind screamed at you to stop—but you found yourself reaching out, your fingers clutching the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer.

Anything. Anything to make this pain stop.

His lips crashed against yours before you could even register what was happening, consuming you in a kiss so passionate it bordered on painful. All rational thought evaporated as his tongue plundered the recesses of your mouth, stroking along your palate and tangling with your own tongue in a sensual dance as old as time itself.

You were consumed, caught in the storm of his touch, unable to think beyond the overwhelming need to escape the agony of your memories—even if only for a moment.

Your hands flew to his face of their own accord, fingers threading through his hair as you clung to him like a drowning woman gasping for air. You kissed him back with a fervor born of desperation, pouring all your pent-up anguish and trauma into the hungry clash of lips and teeth. The two of you panted against each other, like animals ready to tear each other to shreds.

Some distant part of you screamed that this was mistake, that doing this with him willingly was certainly wrong. He had kidnapped you after all. Stolen you. But it was drowned out by the pounding of your heart, the ache of need pulsing between your thighs. His hands slid under your dress, calloused palms skimming over hypersensitive flesh, and you arched into his touch with a whimper.

"Sylus..." you whined, already feeling the desperate ache reach your core.

"I know, kitten. Patience, we just started" he said, amusement adorning his face.

His lips found yours again, hot and demanding, silencing any lingering protests. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and danger that left you craving more. His fingers find the hem of your underwear, wasting no time to remove the obstacle from your wet depths.

Your whole body trembled as Sylus's lips blazed a path down your body, trailing molten kisses along the column of your throat. Each brush of his mouth against your sensitive skin sent electricity singing through your veins, igniting another fiery ache between your thighs. When he nudged aside the fabric of your dress to nuzzle the slick flesh of your cunt, you let out a strangled moan, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you.

The tip of his nose grazed your swollen bud, and your back arched off the bed, every nerve ending sparking with raw pleasure. "Nnnngh…" you whimpered, hips bucking instinctively toward his teasing touch.

Sylus's deep, resonant chuckle rumbled through you, vibrating against your core in a way that made your toes curl. "So responsive," he murmured, his warm breath ghosting over your dripping folds. "Tell me, kitten-were you this wet for him? Did he make you shiver and moan like this when he touched you?"

He grips your thighs almost possessively, waiting for your answer.

His words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head, plunging you back into reality. Shame crashed over you in nauseating waves, your arousal doused by the realization of how easily Sylus manipulated your body. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut, fists clenching in the bedding.

"No," you choked out, voice brittle. "Never. He never touched me like this…Sylus, please…" The plea was torn from your throat, part desperation, part disgust. You felt filthy, tainted by your own traitorous reactions to Sylus's sensual assault on your most intimate parts.

But despite the revulsion roiling in your gut, your body still yearned for more.

"Its hard to say no when you beg me like that," he said, seemingly satisfied with your answer, began trailing a hot, wet streak against your folds. A gasp punches through your throat, eyes fluttering as you try not to lose all control. The mere feeling of his tongue was sending your brain into frenzies. But it wasn't enough. Wasn't enough to block the pain.

"Sylus, ple-mmph!”

You grip the bedsheets even tighter when he tenderly cuts off your plea with a moan against your clit, his tongue beginning to spread the entrance of your lips apart feverishly. Your breathing gets rapid when you feel something hot breaking past the entrance, deeper and deeper into your walls. Sylus's tongue delved deeper, stroking along your inner walls with devastating skill.

"You don't have to hold the bedsheets." he says, withdrawing momentarily from your depths. He wordlessly guides your hands to the top of his head, and before you can say anything, he's back licking up and down your folds, eventually making his way back in completely. The immediate shockwaves of pleasure make you grip his hair basically against your will, and you tearfully hold his hair as you neared an orgasm.

The pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo as Sylus's tongue relentlessly stroked your inner walls, each slick thrust driving you higher toward the brink of climax. Broken moans spilled from your lips, intermingling with his hungry growls of appreciation. Tears streamed down your face as your hips rocked shamelessly against his mouth, silently begging for the oblivion that hovered just out of reach.

Sylus's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted upon your aching cunt. He seemed enraptured, almost worshipful in his attentions, lavishing your most intimate places with devoted licks and sucks. He ate you out like a starved man. Like he craved you.

Like he missed you.

Occasionally his nose would rub against your clit again and again, a delicious friction that made you sob with the intensity of it all.

When his lips finally closed around your swollen clit and sucked hard, you nearly vaulted off the bed, a strangled scream tearing from your throat.

"Mhgn! Sylus! Please, I can't…it's too much!"

But he didn't let up, his talented tongue circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision. Your vision whited out as you finally reached heaven, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over you until you thought you might drown in it. Your walls clamped down on his invading tongue, pulsing with the force of your release, unwittingly calling out Sylus's name as you did so.

Finally, blessedly, Sylus withdrew. You melted in the sheets, finally letting go of his hair, boneless and shuddering in the aftermath. Tears streaked your face, but for once, they weren't because Sylus had hurt you. He had done quite the opposite actually.

Taking in the sight of you sprawled before him, flushed and panting, your body trembling. With a wicked smirk, he trailed a hand along your trembling thigh, drawing a shuddering moan from your throat. Evidence of your orgasm coated his mouth, and you watch as he licks the remaining from his lips.

"Tired already?" he teased, quite enjoying the way your body tensed under his touch. "For a hunter I expected you to have more stamina."

The haze of post-orgasmic bliss dissipated as quickly as it had descended, harsh reality crashing back in with brutal clarity. Tears pricked your eyes as the weight of your shame threatened to crush you. You had begged him for it, eagerly spread your legs for your kidnapper as if y'all were lovers. What was wrong with you?

"I..." you trail off, vision blurring with tears once more. What were you going to say? What could you say?

Sylus trailed lazy kisses along your jaw, seeming to sense your internal turmoil within your head. His lips rubbed against your sensitive skin, sending unwanted sparks of pleasure skittering through your nerves.

"If you're still able to think," he murmured against your throat, "then I clearly haven't kept my promise of helping you forget." His nimble fingers worked at his belt buckle.

The leather strap slid free of the loops with a hiss, dropping forgotten to the floor. Soon after, you felt the straps of your dress slip past your shoulders, past your waist, and eventually off your body completely. Sylus's gaze raked over you, lovingly and hungry, devouring the flush on your skin, the swell of your heaving breasts. You felt bare under his scrutiny, stripped of all defenses.

"And here I thought I was doing such a good job of distracting you," he purred, palming himself through his jeans. The rigid line of his erection strained against the faded denim, an obscene bulge that made your mouth go dry. You watched as he began taking his shirt off from over his head, his chiseled stomach and chest coming into view.

"Please..." you whimpered, the word torn from your throat as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. Your body trembled, caught between the whirlwind of conflicting emotions roiling within you. Revulsion. Lust. Desperation. Self-loathing. You don't even know what you're asking for.

Sylus's expression softened as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing away the moisture collecting on your lashes. It was uncharacteristic of you to beg for anything other than freedom. It was pulling at his heart and making him feel weak. "Shhh, it's alright sweetie," he soothed, his voice a low murmur. "I'm keeping my promise. Don't think, just focus on me."

Slowly, reverently, he lowered his mouth to yours in a kiss that stole your breath and shattered your reservations. His lips moved over yours with aching tenderness, sipping at your parted lips as if savoring the sweetest nectar. The press of his body against yours was solid, reassuring, anchoring you in the whirlwind of sensation.

His tongue slipped past your defenses to stroke the sensitive flesh within, each languid thrust a silent promise of the ecstasy to come. One large hand cradled your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss, while the other smoothed soothing circles on the small of your back.

When he pulls back, eyes staring down at you, it feels like he's staring into the depths of your soul. His eye begins to glow dangerously, and you begin to feel your mind start to spin and the room start to grow hazy. Voices begin pouring into your ears.

Devour him.

He's right there.

Grab him!

But just as quickly as they started, they stopped. You lay there shocked, unable to process what just happened.

"Your mind says a lot more than your mouth does, kitten" he chuckles, and you can only blink confusingly at him as he begins unzipping his pants. He stands up momentarily to remove his pants and you watch as his cock finally spring free. You feel a gush of arousal as you watch it throb, precum slightly leaking at the tip.

"W-what?" you ask, one half of your brain focusing on his raging erection and the other half wondering why the hell your mind felt like it was splitting in half just a second ago.

But you have no time to ponder such questions as Sylus begins to tower above you once more, grabbing your legs and spreading them apart. You squeal at the sudden touch and shiver when his tip rubs against the slit of your opening. His face is twisted with pleasure and his lips are parted, as if he's restraining every part of himself not to push everything into you at once.

"Slow...please" you beg, your hips involuntarily pushing down on the head of his tip when it greets your opening.

"You want me to go slow, yet your hips are lifting off the bed like you can't wait to have me buried inside you," Sylus teased, his voice a low, wicked murmur. He enjoys the way your face twists in annoyance.

"So greedy, aren't you kitten?"

"I'm not trying t-mmph!"

You words lodge into your throat as you feel the head of his tip pierce your hole. You gasped, back arching as you stretched impossibly around him. A painful stretch causes you to groan and try to pull away, but Sylus puts a hand on your stomach, holding you down and ceasing all resistance.

"Be still, hah, it wont hurt for long". Sylus lips are parted as he lets out his own breathless groan, his senses being overwhelmed with you as he sinks deeper and deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Sylus groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought for control. He eased forward slowly, inch by excruciating inch, letting you adjust to his substantial size. Your velvety walls resisted initially, clamping down around him like a vice.

Sylus paused, buried to the hilt inside you, his pelvis flush against yours. "Breathe, kitten," he instructed, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "Try to relax okay?."

You tried to relax, to focus on the pleasant pressure building deep in your core instead of the dull ache in your stretched flesh. Gradually, you yielded, your muscles unclenching as Sylus began to move.

"Good girl," he managed through clenched teeth, withdrawing until just the tip remained before sliding back in with agonizing deliberateness. Over and over, he set a torturously slow rhythm, savoring every drag of your fluttering walls along his rigid cock.

Soon, the sting gave way to blossoming pleasure, radiating outward from where you were joined. You found yourself meeting his measured thrusts, your hips rocking up to take him deeper, chasing that euphoric friction. Sylus's pace quickened marginally, his self-control fraying at the edges. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed obscenely in the room, a filthy symphony that drowned out your labored breaths and muffled whimpers.

Each deliberate thrust carried you further from the pit of anguish threatening to swallow you whole. The exquisite drag of Sylus's thick cock along your sensitive walls obliterated every coherent thought, leaving only the raw, visceral pleasure of the moment. Higher and higher you climbed, chasing the blissful oblivion he promised, until the first warnings of an impending climax rippled through your trembling form.

Sylus shifted his angle slightly, and stars exploded behind your eyelids as he grazed a spot deep inside that made your toes curl. A strangled moan tore from your throat, lost in the slick slide of bodies and the heady musk of arousal perfuming the air.

"That's it, sweetie," Sylus coo'd, his voice low and rough with lust. "Let go. Think about the one making you feel good right now. Think about me. Only me."

His words shivered through you, igniting something primal and needy. Your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts, desperate for more, harder, faster. Your mind snapped and went blank. You were drowning in sensation, drowning in him, and you never wanted to surface. Never wanted to think about reality ever again.

"You're so cute like this," Sylus purred, punctuating each word with a savage grind of his pelvis against yours. "Brain empty and filled with too much cock to think. Should just keep you like this..."

His filthy praise melted your reservations, stoking the desperate frenzy consuming your body and mind. Nothing else mattered beyond the slick slide of flesh and the heady perfume of sex saturating the air. In this moment, Sylus owned you wholly, a willing slave to his lust. All you could do was surrender, drowning in the exquisite agony of your impending release.

The coil of tension in your core tightened with each passing second, your impending climax hovering just out of reach. Sylus sensed your mounting desperation, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release.

"You're so close," he growled, his rhythm growing erratic as he chased his own completion. "I can feel you tightening up, greedy little thing."

"Go ahead, cum. Let me hear your pretty sounds."

The lewd demand shattered your composure, catapulting you into heaven and you practically screamed his name. Pleasure crashed through you like a tsunami, obliterating every coherent thought. All you knew was the pulsing ache in your core, the rhythmic throb of Sylus's cock buried deep, prolonging your climax until you couldn't take the sensations anymore and almost begged him to stop thrusting.

“Sylus…” you whimper weakly.

Your vision grew blurry as you teetered into overstimulation, your walls clamping down on Sylus's pistoning length like a vise. Thankfully, he was at his own end. You hear a guttural groan of your name in your ear, and then felt the hot splash of his seed painting your insides soon after. His thrusting completely stopped, and the both of you lay there, panting and unmoving.

It was only when you felt his warm seed spilling out onto the bed that you snapped back into reality.

"Did you-"

“Yes, I did it inside,” Sylus murmured, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Where else would it go?”

Before you could even process his words and sit up, he was on you, pinning your arms down to the bed with a swift, ruthless precision, as if anticipating your next move. The weight of him was suffocating, leaving you no room to escape. Panic surged through you, your body instinctively twisting and writhing beneath him, but it was useless. You were trapped.

“After your little escape," he continued, voice laced with playful amusement, "I’ve realized I need to put in more effort. Taming you isn’t as easy as I thought...a baby should be a nice, heavy, leash for you"

“Sylus… please,” you stammer, your heart pounding in your chest. Desperation claws at you as the gravity of his words sinks in. “We don’t need to do this. Not like this. Please, let’s solve this without a child?—I’ll do anything you want. I won’t try to run again, I swear.”

Tears blurred your vision as you begged, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush, your voice cracking with the weight of your fear. But Sylus just smiled, that soft, chilling smile that made your stomach drop. He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his hand disappearing beneath the bed.

“I know you won’t be running away again. In fact…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, terror coiling tighter with every passing second. What was he doing? What was he reaching for? You searched your mind desperately, trying to think of anything, anything at all that might change his mind, but you knew better. Sylus was relentless. He hadn’t forgotten your attempts to resist, and now he was only more determined.

And then you felt it—the cold, unforgiving touch of metal snapping around your ankle.

Your eyes flew wide open, your pulse spiking as you looked down in horror. An ankle chain. You were shackled.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. "No...is this..?"

“Anything I want, you say?” Sylus's voice oozed with satisfaction, a smile creeping across his lips as he leaned in closer. The warmth of his breath contrasted sharply with the cold metal now binding you in place.

“Then make us a baby, sweetie,” he purred, his fingers tracing lightly down your arm. “That’s what I want most right now.”

The weight of his words settled like ice in your chest. A shiver coursed through your body, your mind racing, searching for some way out, but the chain around your ankle clinked softly with every tiny movement, a reminder of how trapped you really were.

“It’s long enough to reach everything in here, including the toilet and shower,” Sylus said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek.

You shuddered beneath him, your tears finally spilling over as the full weight of your situation crashed down on you. “Is this… my punishment for running?” you whispered, your voice fragile and trembling, as if the question itself might break you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place. “No, it’s not a punishment,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. “It’s a necessity, honey.”

His words hung heavy in the air, sealing your fate as surely as the chain around your ankle.

Tears broke free, pouring down your face in uncontrollable waves as the reality of it all crushed you. You sobbed openly, your body shaking under the weight of it, and yet there was nothing you could do. Sylus leaned down, his presence overwhelming, his hand softly brushing the side of your tear-streaked face. His voice was low, almost soothing, as if he believed he was offering comfort instead of twisting the knife deeper.

“The faster you accept this,” he whispered, stroking your hair gently, “the easier it’ll be for you. Accept your place by my side and have my baby.”

"I'll take care of both of you, I promise."

His words only made the knot in your throat tighten further. You hated him. You hated him with every fiber of your being, but worst of all, you hated yourself. Hated the fact that you had once given yourself to him willingly, that you had let the devil himself have your body in a moment of weakness, as if you hadn’t known exactly what he was capable of.

The shame of it burned through you, deeper than any chain ever could. How had you fallen so far? How had you ever let him touch you, let him inside your body, your mind—your soul? The answer twisted cruelly in your gut.

But even despite all the burning hatred you had for him in this moment, another unknown feeling sprouted. One that ached and felt almost unbearable to think about. A longing. Festering within the walls of your strained heart and mind. You refused to acknowledge it though, choosing to drown in the sorrow of your new situation.

Sylus shifted beside you, wrapping his arms around you as if you were lovers instead of captor and captive. His warmth pressed against your skin, a twisted parody of intimacy, and you lay there, eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling. You felt his breathing slow beside you, felt his presence still as he settled in comfortably at your side. But you were miles away, staring into the abyss above, where there was no escape, no solace.

Only the cold, bitter truth. You had let the devil in, and now, there was no way out.

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days

Note

Hi! I want to start off by saying that I absolutely ADORE your stories!! ❤️💖💖😁😁😁😁💖💖❤️ And I also really hope you make a series out of the de-aged Captain Marvel au! The potential cuteness and absolute chaos is great!

Tim Drake no longer owned Drake Manor.

When his mother died, it had fallen out of his family's assets as his father had been less than prepared to run the company. When he woke that was.

At the time, Tim had been struggling with the loss and the craziness life had become. Moving to the penthouse was a necessary evil because otherwise, Bruce would have noticed that his "uncle" wasn't around as much. He hadn't really missed the manor, but it was a comfrot to see it there, unchaning since his family fell apart.

He always told himself he would repurchase it, making a mental note whenever he was at Wayne Manor, but he never did for one reason or another. The building remained on the market, but it was considered bad luck among the elites to purchase ancestral homes and the regular populance could never afford it.

Tim would sometimes glance at the manor while driving his motorbike to visit the Waynes. Occasionally, he would stop at the gate, staring at the building and reminiscing.

It would help clear his head on some dark nights. He silently promised himself that when he retired from the field, he would come back home and maybe raise his own family here. It was likely a lie because he couldn't imagine a life without being a vigilante, but it was a nice thought anyway.

He did that today, going for a drive to clear his head and aiming to stop in front of his old home to climb over the fence and sit under the same tree when he realized with a start that the yard had been cleaned up and a group of people were moving items into the building. Yanking out his phone, Tim did a quick search, feeling all the blood drain from his face when the listing now read: SOLD

An overwhelming sense of numbness erupted from his chest as he looked back up, watching the moving crew go to and fro with the belonging of the new owners.

Someone had bought his childhood home. Tim had allowed it to slip through his fingers.

He doesn't have time to process that before a child's laughter has him swinging his head to the top of the gate pillars. There, a boy with bright blue eyes is watching him, eating a giant swirl lollipop.

Tim's heart launches when he realizes how close the child is to tilting over as he yells "Hi mister!"

"Hey there." Tim says as calmly as he can speak."Are you okay up there? You can fall."

"I'm fine. It's really easy to climb up here."

Tim knows. He used the same method to follow Bruce and Jason as a kid. Still, it doesn't make it safe so he steps closer, just incase he needs to catch the kid. It helps, having this distraction from the ache of his mistake in not rebuying Drake Manor.

He ignores the empty sign that the child is leaning against, the faded outline of his family name showing where they removed the metal shapes. He can't handle that right now.

"If you're sure. My name is Tim by the way. What's yours?"

"I'm Billy! I'm five years old! " the boy answers, holding up his hand with a cheer. He gives his lollipop two licks before he gestures at Tim with it."Why are you standing in front of my house?"

"I just.....got curious. You have a pretty house." Tim says as evenly as he can.

"It's super pretty inside, too! My Dad bought it for my Mom and Papa," the boy cheerfully tells him. We move next to my uncle because my Dad says we have to stay close to family."

Wait.

"Bruce Wayne is your uncle?" Tim asks, and the boy nods rapidly. He even points down the street to where Wayne Manor can be viewed from a far distance- neighbors, they may be- the two properties were very vast. "He lives over there with my cousins."

Cousins.

"Oh" Tim hears himself say "That would be me."

Billy eyes sparkle "You're a Wayne?"

"Yes, Tim Drake-Wayne."

"I'm Billy Phantom! Heir to throne!" Billy shouts leaping off the pillar cuasing Tim to launch forward with his arms streach out ready to catch. He hits the ground with a oof but a lack of weight in his hands says he failed to caught Billy.

Not that it mattered as Billy floated in the air harmlessly. Tim glances at the workers to see if anyone has noticed that the boy is apparently a meta, but they don't even look over. Maybe the information was disclosed upon hiring?

"Are you Robin?" Billy says in his face, flouting upside down and staring into Tim's round eyes. He still lays in a heap on the floor, position for a catch and it must make quite a sight to any onlooker. "You look to big to be that one."

Before Tim could even think of an excuse, multicolored rose petals started to fall around them in a dazzling down. It appeared like foral confiti falling from the heavens. Billy flips around to see a pale, beautiful woman dressed in a gothic attire walking toward them.

Behind her, plant life blossoms into a wonderful sight. "Mom!"

"Billy, what did we say about Uncle Bruce's secret?" The lady says, voice musical to the ear.

"But Mom! Only the ghosts are around!" Billy whines, pointing at the moving crew further down the driveway, who have yet to pay attention to them. They didn't care that a goth version of Posion Ivy had strutted by.

"That's no excuse. What would your auntie Jazz say?"

"She says I was not being trustworthy with secrets and other peoples' feelings. I'm sorry." Billy slumps, flouting down to pout on the ground.

"Exactly. Hello Timothy," the woman continues, turning her purple eyes towards the down boy.It's lovely to have family over. "I'm Sam, goddess of the Green. Bruce recommended this place to us. We are excited for the next ten year vacation"

Bruce has a lot to tell him, more then just selling his family house without letting Tim know.

#dcxdpdabbles #Billy Parents #Part 2 #Everlasting trio #Billy meets Tim #Sam is pretty and deadly like a goth rose #Danny and Tucker are rounding around somewhere #Bruce made them neighbors to keep a eye on them #Tim having family feels at first

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gilverrwrites · 3 days

Text

A kiss for the caged bird

Tim Drake/Reader, 5K

AN: Please don't think too hard into any of the science-y crap I wrote, I was pulling it all out of my butt. Anyway, this was supposed to be a quick 500-1000 thing to clear up my writer’s block and here we are. Bon appetit my loves, I hope you enjoy ♥︎ Warnings: Dub-con (purely by the nature of sex pollen) | voyeurism | swearing | dirty talk | mean-ish Tim | minor slut-shaming ♥︎

His normally tender blue eyes are completely saturated with a dense shade of green. From the whites, to his pupils, they almost seem to be glowing. They've also been watching you like a hawk with a heated intensity that puts your hairs on edge from behind the glass of his cell since you’d entered the cave.

“It's just a shame the one person who could probably crack this in no time is the one person who can't help us right now.” Dick laments as he adjusts his bootstraps. “But I have complete faith that Oracle has got this.”

“Me too.” You agree as you stare at the projected screen, all of Barbara’s research thus far. Most of it made little sense to you but it all seemed technical enough, like she was on the right track.

“Right, so she's gonna keep working on that, Spoiler and Orphan are following the Narrows lead while Red Hood and I check out the Reservoir.” The words breeze through your head, you know you should be paying more attention but you're only half listening. Tim has taken his shirt off and is leaning against the cell door. His toned body gleaning under a layer of perspiration, as his venomous green eyes stay locked onto your frame, in all of its dragged-out-of-bed-at-2 AM-after-a-looonnnnngggggg-day-patrol glory. Seemingly noticing your distraction, Nightwing steps into your line of sight as he continues to relay the plan. “You just have to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or do anything stupid until we figure this out.”

“I know, I got it.” Dick doesn’t seem convinced, frowning as his eyes dart between you and Tim. Ignoring his doubts, you settle into the chair at the centre of the console, clicking away until you pull up the live feed from inside Tims's 6x8 prison. You can understand Dicks caution, the undeniable chemistry you and Tim shared had been evident to everyone for a long time, impeached only by your mutual reluctance to date on the job. If Bruce were here, he’d never allow for this, but Dick is doing the best he can with the resources available. Regardless, all doubts aside, you won’t allow your feelings to cause problems, not when lives hang in the balance. “Just go.”

“You’re sure?” He tries to place a reassuring arm on your shoulder but you both jump at the sudden sound of Tim’s fist needlessly hitting the wall. He’d need superstrength to break out of that thing, you're not concerned. Maybe a little more roused by the lack of restraint than you’d like to admit, but no less confident in your ability to babysit than you had been moments ago.

“Certain.” You wave off Dick when he turns back to you, lips still pursed. “Go. Who knows what that crap is doing to him, the sooner you find Ivy, the better.”

He knows it, probably better than you do.

“Buzz if you need anything.” At once you're relieved by his departure, and concerned for his safety, for everyone’s safety.

“Be safe.” You bid, watching as he straddles the Wingcycle.

“Be safe.” He echoes and without another word he's gone, leaving you alone to care for your caged Red Robin.

For a long time, you stare at the empty space Dick left behind, all too aware of Tim and the way his hot-blooded stare makes your skin burn but eventually you have to face him. Can’t monitor him without looking at him after all.

In an attempt to ease the mood, you offer him a smile. Apparently, it does nothing to reassure him or ease his tensions. He simply continues to glower at you. When that doesn’t work you play up your preceding frown, playfully pouting the way you would when you’re teasing his mid-mission stresses, but that fails too. Finally, you curve your left hand in a half heart shape, a common greeting between the two of you from rooftop to rooftop and for a moment you think it might work. He pulls the hand he has pressed to the glass back for a moment, but all he does is clench his fingers back and forth a few times before letting it fall to his side.

At a loss you spin around to the computer, tapping your fingertips on the desk as you consider Barbara’s research once more. The chances of becoming a forensic palynologist within a few hours with nothing but google and whatever research Bruce has backed up in the archives is slim, but it saves twiddling your thumbs, so you start by looking up any chemicals identified by the forensic scanner that you’re not familiar with.

It’s hard to sit still, knowing your every move is being scrutinised but by far the worst part is the silence. Tim and you are muted to each other unless you’re pressing the comms link located on the keypad by the cell door. The only sounds you can make out are the far away screeches of real-life bats located further into the cavern, and the drip, drip, dripping of the wet walls. It’s downright eerie when you’re practically alone, so when Oracle buzzes in about an hour later you jump to answer it, eager to hear another human, and anxious to find out if she has any updates.

“How’s he holding up?” She asks, and you’re glad she can’t see your worried expression. Tim hasn’t moved since Dick left. Except for when you’d crossed the bullpen to look for a fresh pen after the one you’d been using ran out of ink. You exclude that last part from your update, however.

“Okay, just tell him to hang tight, I'm getting closer.” You can tell she’s trying to sound more hopeful than she actually is, and your suspicions are confirmed when she begins to ramble about her findings. She often uses the team as a sounding board when she’s trying to wrap her head around something. “The pollen he inhaled is decreasing his plasma levels and increasing his testosterone.”

“If he’d touched the plant like she’d wanted him too it would re-level those hormones, presumably she was relying on him needing that to keep him under her control.”

“Right.” You’ll pat yourself on the back for impressing her at a more appropriate time. “And if that were it, we could just pump a bunch of oxytocins into him and voilà! But something else is messing with his nociceptors. Not to mention this stuff is packed with things I’ve never even heard of. Have you heard of horny goat weed?”

“Yeah, epi-me-di-um.” You sound the word out from your notes. “Only since tonight.”

“Where do people get these names from?” Babs groans, you can hear her tapping away at her keyboard. “I’m close though, I know it.”

“I believe in you.” She ‘awhs’ at your encouragement.

“Until I’ve got this, there is one thing he can try.” She trails off at the end. Her hesitation strikes you as odd. Surely whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. “If he’s really suffering… ejaculating might help ease any pain if only temporarily. Masturbatory only, obviously, this stuff can and will spread like hot gossip at one of Bruce’s galas.”

“Ah, okay.” You understand her aversion now, looking over at Tim as you consider how you’re going to tell him that. “I will pass the information along.”

The line goes quiet, Babs clearly sensing your discomfort, but however you’re feeling, Tim is likely feeling one thousand times worse.

Habitually, you tell each other good luck and be safe before hanging up, promising to get back to each other ASAP should anything change.

As you pass by the glass of his cubicle to reach the control panel on the other side Tim follows, falling into stride with you like a mirror image. When you stop, he stops, pressing his forearm to the glass and leaning his weight against it as he awaits your next move. Tilting closer when your fingers graze the comms button. Up close you can see that actually his irises are still blue, they’re just almost non-existent, drowned out by his green sclera’s and the sheer size of his impossibly blown-out pupils.

Bzzt. The mic crackles as you activate it.

“Hi.” You test the waters, but when he doesn’t respond you press on. “Are you in pain?”

He silently gazes at you for so long that you start to think he’s never going to answer you. Dumbly, you tap your finger on the plane to try and coax him out of his head, instantly feeling bad as you remember all those signs in zoos ‘PLEASE DON’T TAP THE GLASS, IT MAY CAUSE STRESS OR HARM TO THE ANIMALS’.

Tim must feel the same, like a caged beast, because the seething in his response startles you.

“No.” He taunts mockingly, mouth still twisted into a tight snarl. “I feel fantastic.”

At least his sharp humour is unaffected.

“Oracle said… that…” You can’t help allowing your eyes to trail down his body, shamelessly locking onto the subject matter, due to the distance and the darkness of his tights you’d hadn’t noticed until now that he’s rock hard, the length of his erection straining against the close-fitting fabric. Your face burns at the realisation, at your obliviousness. Of course he was, that’s what aphrodisiacs do. But mostly you're ashamed of how much you enjoy looking at it.

“Wh-” Tim's voice makes you jump. Embarrassed, you inadvertently take your hand off the switch. An uninfected Tim would have rolled his eyes at that, would have laughed at you good-naturedly, but this Tim just tilts his head like he’s cracking his neck, eye still on you. It’s like he physically can’t look at anything else, can’t stop drinking in every inch and crevice of you, cuts and moles and all. When you push down the button again, he repeats himself impatiently. Bzzt. “What did Oracle say?”

You take a deep breath, staring at the wall behind his head to help you concentrate, determined to get the words out no matter how awkward you feel saying it. “She said that masturbating, specifically ejaculating, won’t fix things, but it should… alleviate some of your discomfort, for a while.”

It’s his turn to drum his fingers on the glass, jaw growing tight as he seems to mull on what you’ve just told him. You chance a glance back down to his crotch just long enough to see him palm his hard-on through his pants. You’re unable to keep from imagining what he looks like down there or how he might go about pleasuring himself. Feeling bad for having such depraved thoughts about him while he’s suffering and vulnerable, you remind yourself not to gawk at him.

“No, I’m not doing that.” He states sternly.

“It might help.” Your objection comes purely from a place of concern.

“What would help me is if you’d fuck off.” His response is like a slap in the face, hitting you out of nowhere. You’re only trying to help, had your wondering eyes really prompted this level of ire?

“Wh- “

“It’s bad enough that I can’t control my body and that I’m stuck in here unable to do anything worth doing, but I have to watch you fucking slutting around in those f-.” Shocked by his sudden outburst, you instinctively pull your hand back. You know he’s just trying to let off his frustrations, but it still stings a little. Feeling bad for silencing his partly warranted rant, you tune back in, unable to keep yourself from flinching and jumpily flailing your hands around every time he gets under your skin. Bzzt. “Should be making an antidote or tracking down Ivy but instead all I can think about is bending you over that-”

Bzzt. “-out there trying to help me and I wanted to punch him for touching you like some macho i-” For the first time since you’d started supervising him, Tim finally looks away from you. Throwing his head back and tugging on his own hair as he tries to compose himself. It doesn’t work. You hadn’t thought it possible but when he finally comes back to you, his face is flooded with even more ferocity, like he wants to eat you alive. Bzzt.“-elp me, if you want to help me then fuck me yourself or get out of my sight!”

There's no way you’ll let him get away with talking to you like this, but now is not the time. Swallowing your pride and clenching your fists, you leave him be, hurrying back to the desk, cursing him under your breath as you pull your feet up into the chair and turn your back to him in order to try and make yourself as small as possible. You hate to admit it, but if it weren’t for the risk of infection, his parting words might have worked. Fuck. The thought of opening that door and letting him bend you over whatever he’d had in mind makes your blood rush.

To distract from the thought of Tim’s cock being buried tight in your walls, or how hot he’d look, panting and red faced beneath you as you fucked yourself on his length, you return to your research, glancing at the live feed to Tim’s cell every few minutes purely to confirm that he’s still alive.

You consider changing into something more conservative, this might be the one and only time you could consider slut-shaming somewhat okay, but to do that he'll be forced to look at you, so ultimately you elect not to.

Filthy thoughts continue to plague your imagination as you try to work, and the knowledge that Tim is thinking them too, only makes it worse. You’re so tired and tense and horny that after a while it becomes difficult to focus. You’re pressing your palms into your eyes when you hear a ping; A message from Spoiler to say that The Narrows was a bust, they’re moving on to another location. Another ping from Red Hood reporting a similar issue with their own intel. One more from Oracle to say that she’s pinpointed 90% of the formula and should be able to start reverse engineering soon.

You chime in to state that Tim is holding up. The computer pings once more, a private message from Oracle asking if it helped. You’re part way through typing that he refused when you glance at the video feed, Tim still has his back to the camera, his body pointed toward you the same way he had been all night. You freeze as you notice his bare ass.

His hose are around his knees, back bent in a hunched position, one arm jerking rapidly to and throw as he presumably strokes his cock. Without thinking you turn to face him, and he brazenly stares back at you. Once your suspicions are confirmed, you rapidly swing back.

He’s working on it. You amend. Unsure what to do from there you needlessly stare at the jagged ceiling, restlessly pulling at your fingers as you try to calm and distract yourself from the fact that Tim is currently playing with himself, and using whatever 2-inches of your skin he can see to fuel his fire. Brain and libido at odds, you force yourself not to look at the spectacle he’s putting on.

He’ll be mortified when he’s cured, don’t make it worse, you think. Yet ultimately you crack, too intrigued not to sneak another peek and once you give in to the temptation it becomes impossible to stop.

You could watch him like that all day. Watch the fierce look of concentration on his face, the bulge in his cheek where he’s biting his tongue. Watch the pink crown of his cock, and the way his balls tighten with each brutal thrust of his fist. Watch the way every lean muscle in his body tenses and twitches as waves of pleasure roll though his body. The way his green veins grow more pronounced as he chases his climax? Wait. That can’t be good.

Had they been green this whole time and you just hadn’t noticed? You've only seen one thing like this before. Venom. Could that be the missing 10%?

As though you hadn’t just been ogling him, you cover your eyes as you approach. This time he doesn’t follow you, legs firmly planted on the ground, but when you glimpse through the cracks in your fingers his head is turned to watch you still and you hastily snap your digits closed again before you speak to him.

Bzzt. “Tim, your veins are turning green.”

At the sound of your voice his knees buckle, your hand falls away to watch as his weakened muscles cause him to fall forward. His weight rests precariously against the glass as he hangs between standing and kneeling.

“Tim. Y- “

“I know.” The aggressiveness in which he snaps at you makes your skin run cold, but he follows it with the most pained, puppy dog eyes that you immediately forgive him. As if you have ever been able to hold anything against him for a substantial period of time.

“It hurts.” His teeth are gritted as he explains. “Hurts when I stop.”

You’ve no idea what to say. You wonder if there’s a painkiller on earth that could help him right now but he speaks again before you can suggest it.

“Help me.” He sounds so solemn, despite the fact that he hasn’t once stopped stroking his dick, closely staring at every curve of your body.

“We’re trying.” Your words barely seem to register with him. “It won’t be much longer.”

“No. Help me.” The repeated instruction does nothing to clarify what else he could mean until he continues. “Your voice sounds so sexy, fuck. Talk to me.”

Oh. “And say what?”

“God, fuck. Do I have to spell it out for you? Anything!” He barks, simultaneously carnal and irritable. Each word out of his mouth is more breathless and desperate than the last. “Fucking anything. Tell me you want me, that you want me to fuck you. Come on, please do this for me.”

“Okay, okay.” You can do this. “I do want you. I want to fuck- I want you to fuck me so bad, Tim.”

Despite it being true, you feel lame, clumsily parroting him, but Tims full bodied reaction spurs you on. He takes the final plunge, dropping onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches and practically presenting his engorged shaft to you. From here you can see how his skin is tinted several shades of pink and red. His blush seems to stem from his chest, running along his neck and shoulders, highlighting his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. You’ve never seen a prettier sight. It’s so enchanting, it almost diverts from his unnerving blood vessels.

“You’re so beautiful.” You purr, finding more confidence with every quiet huff and moan that spills from his lips. “I wish I could do this for you. I want to make you feel so good, I’d let you fuck me anywhere.”

He nods rapidly at you, encouraging you to continue while bucking his hips forward.

“I know your cock would fit just right in my mouth and feel so good, would make me gag until you came down my throat.” You open your mouth and stick your tongue out to show him, feeling silly until he replies.

“Fuck. Yeah. You’d look good sucking on my cock.”

“Yeah!” You agree, just the sight of him is enough to make your heartbeat race. But the thought of taking him in your mouth, slobbering all over his cock and watching him enjoy every second of it makes you rub your thighs together. You want so badly to get yourself off too but the little voice of conscience in the back of your brain is telling you not to, that it would be taking advantage. “Or you could bend me over, rip off my clothes and fuck me. I’d love to feel you pounding into my tight pussy.”

“Oh, pleasepleaseplease.” The words are slurred as he sinks his teeth hard into his tongue.

“You don’t have to beg, Timmy.” He hangs on your every word as you vocalise the thoughts and fantasies you’ve only ever indulge in when you’re alone at night. “You can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want, you can fill me up over and over. We’ll make sure everyone knows who my pussy belongs to. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” The confirmation is instant, no-nonsense. Followed by him closing his eyes and slamming his spare hand against the window to steady himself.

“Mine…” When he opens his eyes again, they unsurprisingly immediately lock onto you once more, zeroing in on your throbbing centre as he tells you. “Let me see it.”

“What?” The saliva in your mouth turns dry in an instant. Despite Tim baring all to you the thought of getting your whole pussy out in the Batcave scares you. In a strangely invigorating way.

“Need to cum and I fucking can’t.” Tim explains weakly, punching the wall again, this time with less vigour. “Show me your cunt.”

The c-word sounds so strange on Tims lips, so filthy. He’s frantic. You’re no closer to understanding how to cure him, and apparently your presence has only made things worse but maybe this is how you help him.

Hurriedly, you scurry over to the Batcomputer, Tim asserting his discontent by hammering his open palm on the wall repeatedly until you return moments later with the desk chair.

You waste little time shimmying out of your sleep shorts before you lose your bravado. Falling back into the chair, you adjust the height until your now exposed pussy is level with Tims eyeline. His demeanour changes in an instant, lips morphing into the first semblance of a smile he’d given you all night as he shifts closer.

Emboldened by his enthusiasm you spread your legs wide, resting your feet on the glass and using your fingers to spread apart your folds for him to get a real look. You’re not sure how he’ll feel about the shameful amount of moisture you’ve produced later, but for now his mouth very visibly waters. You don’t think he’s blinked since you sat down.

Uncurbed, you brush your finger over your sensitive clit, toes curling in response. You’d love to say you did it to put on a show for Tim, to help him find relief but in actuality it’s entirely self-serving. Unable to resist touching yourself at the sight of him on his knees for you, mercilessly fisting his cock in frenzied, rhymeless strokes. Regardless of your motivation, Tim seems to appreciate it.

Strands of his dark hair fall into his face as he leans forward, partly hiding his glassy eyes and reddened cheeks, but he quickly whips them back once more ensuring he maintains an uninhibited view of your fingers as they rapidly paw at your sex. Angling yourself so that Tim can see every minute detail, every roll of your hips as you lower your hand and sink two fingers into yourself. All the while you keep massaging your sensitive bud, Tim’s name a prayer on your lips as you watch him, watching you, fevered and hungry.

It comes as a surprise when your orgasm hits first, walls convulsing and spasming as you objectify yourself for Tim, acting like his personal pornstar. It’s a shame he can’t hear the wetness of your hole or the strangled, lewd gasps and moans that escape your throat as your body trembles from the intensity of your climax.

The slick of your release leaks from your sex, trickling between your legs, down the chair, and onto the metal floor. Like a man starved, Tim slams his face into the glass, finally closing his eyes and lapping at the pane with a flattened tongue.

Whatever vision he’s conjuring works, his lids twitch, eyes darting open to watch your panting frame. He looks sacrilegious, full body blushed and sweating. His face softens, mouth slack and drooling as rope after rope of cum spills from his reddened tip and hits the pane.

You’re only able to enjoy the sight of him coming apart for a moment before you notice that the viscous fluid is unsettlingly coloured. Not milky white as it should be, but a strange, luminous green colour.

Tim slumps downward once he’s spent, and you watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest while he comes down from his high. Your heart aching as you wonder whether his pain has been even slightly alleviated. The fact that the swelling of his veins seems to have subsided bodes well. Eventually he comes too, enough to also notice the puddle of green excrement between his legs and it’s your turn to all but lunch yourself at him. You shout falls on deaf ears until your kick’s echoes into his cell. His hand freezes and he watches, still hunched as you stumble to the control panel on unsteady legs.

“Don’t touch it.” Tim nods sheepishly in agreement. It probably won’t hurt him, having come from inside him, but better safe than sorry. “I’m gonna grab you some gloves and slides to take samples with.”

Before he can concur, you’re gone, inelegantly hiking your bottoms back on as you go. You feel bad, jumping straight back into business without so much of a ‘how was that for you?’ but these are strange circumstances, and whatever freaky substance he just shot out of his balls might be the missing puzzle piece in treating him.

Eventually, once you’d collected everything you’ll need and updated the Team, you do ask, holding the mic down with your elbow as you pull on a pair of rubber gloves, waiting to take the samples from him. “How do you feel?”

“Hot, and sore.” He tells you. He’s pulled his trousers back up, but you can still see the outline of his half-hard penis. “It’s still in me, I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt as much. I can think. Which is something.”

“I’m glad it helped. Hopefully we’ll get you back to normal before it gets bad again.” He offers you a smile then. A genuine, none-hedonic one that makes you feel fuzzy. You’ve missed that smile.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He places the slides, tools, and used gloves in the containment slot and closes his side of the two-way mechanism. You offer him a half heart which he returns before you start sorting and bagging everything.

You’re about to turn your back when he taps gently on the glass, gesturing for you to open the comms line again and you oblige with your elbow once more.

“Listen, I’m really sorry for being an ass earlier. You didn’t deserve what I said to you.”

You can tell he’s stressing about it from the gloomy look in his blue-green eyes and the way he tugs at his waistband. Normally he fidgets with his gloves or his collar, but needs must an’ all. You’d give anything to be able to hug him right now.

“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t really mean it.” Admittedly it had shaken you, for all of five minutes, but you’ve never been able to stay mad at Tim, even at his worst, and you’ve seen him do far worse. “You weren’t really mad at me, right? Just the situation?”

“Yeah. Mostly myself but that doesn’t make it okay.” He’s still fiddling, still looking at you mournfully. It means a lot that it bothers him so much, but you need that to stop. You need him to be normal for like half an hour so you can get some work done without worrying. And you need to get the work done so you can make up for your own misdeeds.

“No really, it’s fine I don’t care.” You stress, hoping if you chide him a little it will absolve him of his guilt. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try not to.” He promises. You can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth that he’s working up to say something else, something that has his ears and cheeks turning pink. That or the absolved symptoms are coming back already. “And thank you. For the other stuff.”

“Oh good, I was worried you might regret that part.” You hadn’t realised how badly you needed to hear him say that until it happened. It’d kill you and whatever situationship you have going on if he’d considered your actions exploitative.

“No! Not at all. I mean, I always kind of hoped that one day we might end up…” He vaguely gestures into the air which doesn’t help his point, but you understand what he’s getting at and nod, urging him to continue. “You know? But I never would have imagined it happening like this.”

“I know what you mean. I always figured something might…” You’re floundering. This is not the time or place for this conversation, you’re completely unprepared and as badly as this conversation needs to be had, you really don’t have time. “I mean, I wouldn’t wish what’s happening on anyone, but if it had to happen, I’m glad it was you. Because you’re the only person I would have done that for.”

You can’t imagine having done that for Dick, or Barbara, or God forbid Bruce. Just thinking about it makes your stomach churn.

“Good.” He seems more relieved now than he had when he’d cum. “I’d hate it if you’d done that with anyone else.”

If this were a movie or an action-romance novel, this is the part where you’d kiss, you think. But it’s not, and every second the two of you spend stammering about your feelings and making go-go eyes at each other is a second that could be spent on finding an antidote.

“We’ll talk, later.” You promise.

“I’d like that.” Tim replies before you pull away from the keypad. In a moment of whimsy, you blow your hot breath against the glass until it’s steamed up before pressing your puckered lips on it. No sound escapes the barrier between you, but you can see Tim laughing, his cheeks still palpably pink. He returns the gesture just moments before the Batcomputer begins to buzz.

Hi friend! I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad you exist. ♥︎

#gilverrwrites #dc #reader insert #tim drake #tim drake/reader #tim drake x reader #red robin/reader #red robin x reader #red robin #nsft #as always i wrote this with AK Tim in mind but I added the long hair cause I know ya'll are thinking of pretty boy tim #i love em both but AK Tim is my true love #f reader

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yuri-is-online · 13 hours

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Been thinking back on the early books where Crowly would just not even play coy about holding Yuu's vulnerable status in TWST over their head to do things, he's only stopped in recent books because after Jamil's overblot, Yuu's stopped going to him for things/Yuu gets involved in stuff anyways but like, imagine Ortho or any of the boys with real Means hearing Crowly do the whole "Oh I'd hate to see you on the streets, Prefect" shit and just going "not if I have anything to say about it".

STYX probably has some sort of deal with other countries for Nationality if people born there like Idia ever need ID, so i could see the Shroud brothers just asking Mum and Dad to make their buddy a fake ID so they can get a job.

Or just Kalim or Vil using their wealth to simply pay for Yuu to get all the paperwork they need and then some if Crowly continues to be skeezy about it. (And its because its me and you, Ace debating whether or not to cheekily slip a marriage certificate in with all the paperwork, if only briefly).

Azul and the Tweels Girlbossing and Gaslighting that Yuu is actually from the Coral Sea and their paperworks just been lost in the exchange program, how dare customs lose something that important! All four of them deserve compensation for the damage!

But who needs all that when Malleus just bold face says that by Divine Right he declared Yuu a sovereign citizen of Briar Valley. Whose gonna fight him in this? Just.. the boys in general making sure Yuu is OK

Ortho offers to give you any secret you want off the internet for your birthday so I definitely see the S.T.Y.X. people coming in clutch for the paperwork. It makes the most sense to me because when I read Book 6 I felt like the implication was Grim was going to be kept there past when the OB boys were returned due to him being seen as a danger, so if Grim is a matter of interest to S.T.Y.X. then Yuu probably will be too eventually. Paperwork shmaperwork they'll have ids made up for Yuu lickty split.

Malleus is another good option, but there is that pesky senate to deal with... I wonder if we will ever get an explanation of how Sebek's dad immigrated there? Could Malleus claim that he's technically doubled the human population by making Yuu a citizen because Mr. Zigvolt is the only one there for now?

and just because it's between you, me, and hundreds of our closest aceyuu friends and family, maybe yuu jokes that if they just got married then they'd have some paperwork and ace makes a great big show of "taking one for the team" even though we both know he'd really like that actually. And so would you otherwise you wouldn't be joking about it.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland #twst theories #aceyuu

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naomistares · 3 days

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since your art style has changed (and i love how expressive and mischievous? it feels now, idk if that makes sense but i admire the heck out of your growth) what does your process look like now? do you use the same brushes as before? do you want to talk about what you love about your work now? i saw your tag about tlt redraws now that you like your art and it made me curious. anyway love your art so much, nori!

hi!! thank you so much for this very cool question!! i guess before i just drew without much putting any thought to like... anything at all haha, only when i started doing comics was when i actively tried to make myself enjoy the process more.

i just thought about what I hated and tried to change it and just do a lot more art studies in my own time and try to really think about everything... like composition ! and like with colors, i didn't like how i only used to use desaturated tones, when i enjoyed more colors in other art i see.

or with poses, i didn't like how everything i drew felt very static to me, it still does but i'm getting better!! so i've studied dynamic-ness and whatnot.

i didn't like how "realistic" i would naturally go with proportions while drawing when my personal taste enjoyed more cartoon-ish and whimsical proportions, so i tried to be a little bit more loose with that but i'm not all there yet. for example, when i do some reference studies in my own time i find myself copying it 1:1 as it is, so now i try to incorporate it into a specific style without just copying it, it doesn't feel like i benefited otherwise!

i'm also trying to currently improve my lineart, i'm finding it much more enjoyable to draw with a thin brush! my lines were often thick and bulky and not super clean.

and yes!! i used to be loyal to like one or two brushes but i'm just trying new things constantly and it definitely affects the general vibe of the drawing, i've been obsessed with pencil brushes but i'm retiring it for a bit for a more jagged brush that i'm obsessed with now lol (still haven't posted anything with that, (working on it) but it totally changed the vibe.)

i feel like i often know when something looks right but i struggle on how to get there at times, but lately i've been seeing more right than wrong and just generally enjoying drawing.... drawing is my favorite thing.... i clocked in 9 hours yesterday on procreate.

#sorry for making this an essay #i just really appreciate the question #very passionate!#thank you for the nice words too!!

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ninjatrashpanda · 21 hours

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Home (Home is wherever I'm with You)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round Two. Day Seven: "Predict the Future." Read on AO3 here.

“Oh yeah,” Buck exclaimed, handing another freshly washed plate to Tommy to dry. Evenings like this one were becoming more and more common. Buck and Tommy would meet up at Tommy’s house or Buck’s loft after their shifts, cook and eat dinner together, do the dishes together, and then settle down on the couch for a movie Tommy wanted to see, or a documentary to fuel Buck’s latest hyperfixation before heading to bed, either for a round of ‘Was I a good boy, Daddy?’ or to just sleep, depending on how tired they were after work. “My lease runs out in three months. Remind me that I have to talk to my landlord about a new one.”

Tommy nodded, putting the now dry plate on top of the stack next to him. “I can remind you, but have you thought about maybe… I don’t know… not renewing it?” His tone was casual, as it usually was, but Buck could tell that he was nervous from the way the blue of his eyes seemed to waver. For all that Tommy knew how to mask his facial expressions, Buck had quickly learned that his eyes had the tendency to betray him as long as you knew what to look for.

Buck let out a small chuckle, reaching for another plate, one of his eyebrows rising in confusion. “Not renewing?” he echoed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what? Move into the station full time?”

Tommy laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more… you know, here. At my place.”

An odd sense of quiet spread through the room for a moment, despite the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle hum of the dishwasher running behind them. It wasn’t an out-of-the-blue proposal, not really. In fact, Buck figured, they’d been tiptoeing around it for weeks, maybe months. Their evenings together were less about convenience and more about the deep comfort they’d found in each other’s company, the quiet routines they’d built together. On nights when their shifts kept them apart, Buck deeply missed and outright craved Tommy, and not just in the sexual sense either. He’d realized a while ago that he really didn’t want to be apart from his boyfriend for any extended amount of time.

“You… You want me to move in with you?”

Tommy stopped drying for a second, focusing on folding the towel in his hands to avoid meeting Buck’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. I mean, we’re here all the time anyway, right? You’ve got a drawer, you’ve got space in the closet, half your stuff’s already in the bathroom. It just makes sense. Plus…" He finally looked up, his expression softening. “I like having you around, Evan. It feels… good. Natural.”

Buck didn’t respond immediately. He reached for the next dish, but instead of handing it over, he stared at the water droplets sliding down the ceramic, his mind working through the unspoken implications. He wasn’t scared, exactly. Living with Tommy had an appeal, a strong one, but it also carried weight. The last time he moved in with a partner had been an absolute disaster (and Buck was mature enough to acknowledge that it wasn’t fully or even mostly on Taylor either) and he really, really didn’t want his relationship with Tommy to go down the same path.

He finally spoke, voice steady but thoughtful. “I like being here with you too, Tommy, of course I do, I love you. It’s just… moving in, it’s a big step. You sure we’re ready for that?”

Tommy’s lips pressed together as he kept playing with his towel, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t want to push, and Buck knew and appreciated that. This wasn’t about trying to goad Buck into doing something he wasn’t ready for; it was about opening a door that, deep down, he already knew they both wanted to walk through.

“I get that it’s a big step,” Tommy finally said, his voice a touch softer, though still carrying that cadance of sincerity that Buck had become so familiar with. “I’m not trying to pressure you or make you feel like we have to do this now. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and… honestly, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes met Buck’s, unwavering, calm but warm, and full of love. “No rush, no pressure. Just… think about it.”

Buck let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, running a hand through his damp curls. There was a knot in his chest that he hadn’t quite figured out how to untangle, a mix of excitement, anxiety, and an old, familiar fear of things falling apart when they seemed to be going too well.

“I do love being here,” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly might somehow jinx what they had. “And you’re right. Half my stuff’s already here. I just…” He paused, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. “I guess I’m scared, you know? Last time I moved in with someone, I made a whole bunch of mistakes. It was a bad idea, and we rushed into things and it got… messy.”

Tommy nodded, leaning against the counter, his fingers still absently twisting the towel. “I know what happened with Taylor wasn’t easy, Evan. But that was different. You were different. And I’m not her.” He took a step closer, closing the space between them, his hand finding Buck’s in the soapy sink. The warmth of Tommy’s touch grounded him, and for a second, the room felt smaller, quieter. More intimate.

“You’re not,” Buck agreed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Tommy’s hand. “And I don’t want to compare what we have to that. I just… I want to make sure we’re doing this for the right reasons. Not because it’s convenient or comfortable, but because it’s what we both really want.”

Tommy tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching Buck’s face as if trying to read the thoughts that Buck was too afraid to say out loud. “If you need to think about it, that’s okay. You know I’m not gonna hold it against you, right?”

Buck let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of Tommy’s words settle over him. He knew Tommy meant every word. There was no hidden agenda, no underlying expectation. He was simply being honest about what he wanted, but ready to let it go if Buck didn’t. And Buck knew that should he say no, Tommy would be disappointed, but nothing would change between them. Tommy would know that Buck declining now wasn’t a never, just a not at this point. And that was what made this relationship so different from all the others. It wasn’t built on fleeting passion or some burning need to be wanted. It was steady, patient, and real.

“I know,” Buck said, his voice a little more solid this time. He turned to look at Tommy, really look at him. The man who had somehow woven himself into the fabric of Buck’s everyday life without either of them really noticing it happening. Tommy was everything Buck never thought he needed. Calm where Buck was impulsive, thoughtful where Buck was driven by instinct. It made Buck feel safer than he had in a long time.

Tommy smiled, a soft, understanding curve of his lips. “There’s no rush, baby,” he said again, letting his hand squeeze Buck’s gently before releasing it and taking the next dish. “We can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or not talk about it. Whatever works.”

“So, what’s bugging you?” Bobby asked as he threw Buck’s apron over to him. They’d just gotten back to the station after a minor fender bender (three mild injuries, no deaths) and after sending everyone off to do their chores, he had quickly roped Buck into making dinner with him. Buck should have known it was a set-up.

“Wow, okay,” he said, grabbing an onion to dice for the bolognese recipe Tommy had gotten from his Nonna, a recipe both Bobby and Buck had gotten obsessed with mastering. “Not even gonna try to butter me up first, huh?”

Bobby chuckled as he started chopping the garlic, his hands moving with the kind of ease that came from years of cooking for the station. “We both know I’m not great at subtlety,” he said, glancing up at Buck with a pointed look. “Besides, I can tell something’s been on your mind. Figured I’d cut to the chase.”

Buck sighed, shaking his head slightly as he focused on the onion in front of him. The sharp smell of it hit him as soon as he sliced into it, and the familiar sting of onion-tears started piecing his eyes. He really should’ve known Bobby would catch on. If not him, who?

“I don’t know, Cap,” Buck said, his voice softer than usual. “It’s kinda dumb, really. I’ve just been... thinking. A lot.”

Bobby didn’t respond right away, just kept working at the garlic, letting Buck find his way to whatever he needed to say. Buck appreciated it. He hated being pushed to answer, and it always made him feel like he had to justify himself for feeling things. Bobby leaving him air to breathe and sort his thoughts, even if he was a little embarrassed that Bobby could read him so readily.

Buck did appreciate it. But it did also make him squirm.

“You know you’re allowed to think about things,” Bobby said after a moment, keeping his tone light. “But sometimes you get stuck in your head, Buck. And I’m not sure that’s where you want to be right now.”

Buck dropped the knife on the cutting board with a sigh, the rhythmic chop-chop of onions halting as he wiped his hands on his apron. “It’s not that,” he muttered, staring down at the half-diced onion, almost willing it to give him answers.

“So what is it?”

Buck looked up, meeting Bobby’s eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He could feel the weight of Bobby’s concern, genuine and steady, like the man was always a step ahead, trying to make sure everyone around him was okay.

He swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “Tommy asked me to move in with him, and I’m scared.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, pausing his garlic chopping for a second before setting the knife down. “Scared?” His tone was gentle, but Buck could sense the surprise there. “Of moving in with Tommy, or… something else?”

Buck let out a long breath, the air thick with the smell of onions and garlic now, the comforting scents of a familiar meal that should have helped ease his tension but only seemed to magnify the knot twisting in his stomach. He looked down at the onion, pushing it around the board with the edge of his knife. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was like they didn’t want to come out. Talking about feelings was never easy for him, especially not the deep, vulnerable ones. But this… this was Bobby. The man who had been there through the worst and somehow still saw him, still believed in him.

“I don’t know,” Buck finally said, the words coming out in a rush, like if he didn’t say them now, they’d never come. “I’m not really scared of moving in, I’m scared of messing it all up like I did with Taylor.”

Bobby gave a small nod and a hum, his expression one of calm realization. He turned and resumed chopping the garlic, the steady sound of the knife hitting the cutting board filling the silence between them. Buck appreciated the way Bobby let the quiet hang, giving him the space to work through his tangled thoughts.

“I know I shouldn’t compare the two,” Buck said, frustration creeping into his voice. He resumed dicing the onion, his movements a little too quick, the sharp knife clattering against the board. “Tommy’s not Taylor and I’m not the same Buck that I was back then, but it’s like I can’t help it. Every time I think about taking the next step with him, my mind goes back to everything I did wrong with Taylor. How I thought I could make it work, despite everything, and then… well, you know how that went.”

Bobby set down his knife again, wiping his hands on a towel as he turned to fully face Buck. His gaze was steady, not judgmental, just patient. “Buck, you can’t beat yourself up over past mistakes forever. You’ve learned from them. That’s what matters.”

Buck frowned, his hands stilling for a moment as he considered Bobby’s words. “Yeah, but what if I haven’t learned enough? What if I mess this up too? Tommy… he’s important to me. Like, really important. I think he could be it, you know? And the last thing I want to do is hurt him or make things awkward between us.”

Bobby gave a small nod, leaning back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “I get that, Buck. Believe me, I do. But relationships aren’t about never making mistakes. They’re about being willing to learn and grow together. From what I’ve seen, you and Tommy are already doing that.”

Buck stared at the sloppy onion dices in front of him, the smell still sharp, mixing with the garlic Bobby had finished. “What if I can’t handle the pressure? I mean, living together is a big deal. I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

Bobby smiled faintly, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched Buck. “Do you want to be ready, though?”

Buck blinked. The question caught him off guard. It wasn’t something he had considered, at least not in those terms. Did he want to be ready? Of course he did, didn’t he? But then again, that was part of the problem. He wanted to be perfect, to have it all figured out before he took the leap. The thought of messing up, of failing, of somehow destroying what he and Tommy had, gnawed at him.

“I do,” Buck sighed, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just don’t want to screw this up, Bobby. I’ve done that too many times already. What if I’m just not meant for this? What if...”

Bobby held up a hand, stopping him gently but firmly. “Buck, stop.” He shook his head slightly, his tone soft but unwavering. “You’re not broken. You’ve been through a lot, and yeah, you’ve made mistakes. We all have. But that doesn’t mean you’re destined to keep repeating them.”

Buck felt a lump form in his throat. He hated how accurate Bobby’s assessment of him was. How often had he thought like that about himself? That he was somehow defective, doomed to fail at every relationship he tried to make work? It was like a heavy weight tied around his neck, one that seemed to make it harder and harder to keep his head up.

Bobby’s eyes softened as he kept speaking, his voice filled with that steady, reassuring calm Buck had come to rely on. “You’re allowed to be scared, Buck. It means this matters to you. But don’t let that fear keep you from something good. You and Tommy… you’ve got something worth fighting for. And from what I’ve seen, you’re both willing to put in the work.”

Buck swallowed, his eyes burning a little, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the onion or the sudden rush of emotions coursing through his body. He wiped his hands on his apron again, more out of habit than necessity. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll let him down,” he admitted quietly. Bobby had done it once again. He had peeled back every single one of Buck’s worries and doubts and had nailed exactly what the source of his issues was. “He deserves someone who’s... not a mess.”

Bobby shook his head, stepping closer and resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Buck, you’re not a mess. You’re human. And Tommy knows that. You two are building something together, and that’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time, effort, and yeah, sometimes it takes stumbling a little along the way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of it.”

Buck looked up at Bobby, his throat tight, the knot in his stomach loosening just a little as he heard the words. He knew Bobby meant them. He could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice.

“Do you think I can do this?” Buck asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

Bobby’s smile was small but full of warmth. “I think you already are. You’re asking the right questions, thinking about it the way you should. You care enough to want to get it right. That’s what matters.”

Buck nodded slowly, feeling a little of the tension start to melt away. Bobby’s words had a way of doing that, of making things seem less impossible, less overwhelming. Maybe he didn’t have it all figured out yet, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe just wanting to do better, wanting to be there for Tommy, was enough for now.

“Thanks, Cap,” Buck said, his voice steadier now. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

Bobby gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to the cutting board, picking up his knife and getting back to the garlic. “Anytime, Buck. And hey, when you move in with Tommy, don’t forget to keep practicing this bolognese. I’m counting on you to help me perfect it.”

Buck laughed, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t realized he needed. He picked up his knife again, the rhythm of chopping the onion coming more easily now, less frantic. “Deal. But only if you let me make the garlic bread.”

“Done,” Bobby said with a grin. “Now, let’s finish this before everyone starts complaining about being hungry.”

“This is the last one,” Tommy called, carrying a box down the stairs to Buck’s former bedroom. Buck, waiting at the base with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his suitcase by his side. “You had a lot less stuff than I expected, baby.”

Buck smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… I never really needed much, you know?”

It was true. Buck had, for all intents and purposes, been kind of a minimalist with the loft. He lived at the station half the time anyway, so he had never really tried to accessorize or anything. A few pictures of himself and his family, from Maddie and Bobby to Christopher and Jee-Yun were about the only things that he figured mattered. He loved his family, and being surrounded by them, even if it was only through photographs, always made him feel better.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, putting the box to the ground. And that… was a loaded question. Yes, Buck was okay, technically. He wanted this. He wanted to move in with Tommy, was okay with letting the loft go.

But this had still been his home for the last six years of his life. It was still the end of an era.

“Just… feeling a little nostalgic is all.”

Tommy nodded, an understanding smile making its way to his face. “Makes sense,” he said quietly, running his hand through his messy curls as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been through a lot in this place.”

Buck sighed, his eyes drifting around the room, taking in the bare walls, the empty bookshelves, the absence of the things that had once made this place feel like his. There was a time when this loft had been a refuge, a place to heal after he had hit rock bottom more than once. He’d been here after the ladder truck had crushed his leg, after the tsunami, after the lightning strike. His relationships with Ali and Taylor and Natalia had ended here. He had spent weeks in here all alone when he had filed the lawsuit that had almost destroyed his relationships with the people that mattered most to him.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his voice soft. “A lot happened here.”

And yet, it had also been a sanctuary, a place of endless laughter, and some of the best parts of his life. Getting this place had made him feel like an adult for the first time in his life. He had felt independent in a way not even traveling across the country on his own had made him feel. He and Eddie had made up after the lawsuit in here, he and Christopher had spent countless hours pummeling each other in fighting games, he’d first seen Jee-Yun crawl in here when she had made her way from the door to the couch. He had even delivered his Conner and Kameron’s child in here.

Tommy and him had shared their first kiss here.

Tommy watched him carefully, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “You don’t have to let it all go, you know,” he said, voice gentle. “You can take the memories with you.”

Buck smiled at that, the kind of smile that cracked through the melancholy even though it still didn’t quite fill out his face. “I know. It’s just… this place has seen every part of me, you know? The mess, the mistakes, the times I got back up again. It’s hard to leave that behind.”

“I get it,” Tommy murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against Buck’s arm. “And it’s normal. Leaving your old home for a new one is always hard.”

Buck’s gaze softened as he looked at Tommy, grateful for the way he understood, the way he just… got it. That was one of the things that had made Buck fall for him in the first place. Tommy knew how to be present, how to listen without forcing an answer or solution.

“Moving in with you,” Buck said, looking down at the duffel bag and then back at the empty space around him, “it feels right. I just didn’t expect it to feel this… complicated too.”

Tommy chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Buck’s temple, his arm moving around Buck’s shoulders. “Change always is. Even the good ones. But look, we don’t have to rush anything. If you need more time, I—”

“No,” Buck interrupted, though his tone was gentle. “I’m ready. I really am. I want this—us.” He turned to pull Tommy into a slow, soft kiss, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I think I just need a second to say goodbye to this place, you know?”

Tommy squeezed his hand, a warm smile lighting up his face. “Take all the time you need.”

Buck turned back toward the loft, his heart heavy but steady, while Tommy went to grab the box and stand in the doorway. Buck walked slowly around the room, letting his fingers graze the walls, each touch bringing back fragments of the life he’d lived here. The first time he’d stood in the kitchen, fresh from a shift, feeling like he was finally becoming the man he wanted to be. The nights he’d stayed awake, trying not to let his loneliness get to him, wondering if he’d ever be enough for anyone. The day Maddie had come home after getting treated for her PPD. The moment Eddie had told him that Chris thought of him as a hero, a title Buck never felt like he deserved but wore like armor anyway.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the Los Angeles skyline glowing with the soft hues of the setting sun. The view had always been one of his favorite parts of this place. It reminded him that, no matter how chaotic life got, the world kept turning, kept moving. And so did he.

With a deep breath, Buck finally allowed t’he tears that had built behind his lids to flow free, feeling the weight of six years lift from his shoulders. This place had been his sanctuary, his shelter. But now, he realized, it had also been his cocoon. It had kept him safe while he grew, while he healed. But he wasn’t the same man who had first walked through that door all those years ago. He was ready to spread his wings and step into something new.

Something with Tommy.

He stepped back in, his heart full but at peace, and caught Tommy’s eye. “I think I’m good now,” he said softly, smiling—a real, genuine smile this time.

Tommy grinned, his eyes twinkling with that infectious warmth that had always made Buck feel grounded. “Good. Because I was starting to think I’d have to carry all your boxes back up.”

Buck laughed, the sound light and free, cutting through the bittersweet air. “You’re hilarious. But no, I won’t strain your back like that, old man.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is!” Tommy shot back, his expression playful as Buck picked up his suitcase and duffel bag. “Come on, let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

Tommy grabbed the last box, and together, they headed for the door. Just before stepping through, Buck paused one last time, looking back over his shoulder at the loft. He let the memories settle in his mind, like pictures into a photo album.

“Goodbye,” he whispered, not to the loft itself, but to the man he used to be inside it. Then, he turned to join Tommy in the hallway. “Let’s go home.”

#911 abc #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy fanfic #bucktommypositivityweek #fanfic #i actually got emotional writing that last scene at the loft

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34saveme34 · 2 days

Text

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

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.

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.

#smg4 #marware #smg34 #nicc's-fics #okay so if for some reason you find that the formatting is different on here than on ao3 by the end cuz you read it at both places #it's because I reached block limit #me and my long ass fics UGH

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smilingangel582 · 2 days

Text

The chase

Hi guys, I am madly in love with this character. And guess what, this is Naruto and Sasuke'a VA! In Japanese. I seriously wrote this tk fic as they speak in Japanese. Omg! I love them even more. Ps. We need more lee!kinich... I summon it!

Summary: Paimon is convinced Kinich is scary, but Aether thinks otherwise. It was a quiet day in Natalan until Aether started a bet with Paimon to prove her wrong. New discoveries were made, and unsurprisingly, a certain dragon lord commits betrayal.

Warning: Spoilers for the nataln archon quest and Kinich's quest, tickling, cuteness overload, Aether and Kinich are very close, but mind you, it's a platonic relationship (can't ship them yet)

"So you Paimon is supposed to believe that Kinich is actually... uh... a sweetheart?" Paimon crossed her arms in confusion. Floating around as Aether walked through the city of mountains, the scion of the canopy.

Aether shrugs, giving her a confident smirk "Well... he may appear blank but he's very nice and he doesn't hide it... not like a certain wanderer ..."

Paimon guessed Hat guy from Sumeru might have sneezed by that mention.

"But he's so cold and Paimon can't really see the guy smile..." Paimon huffs now, as if its the biggest worries for her, "its frightening how blank Kinich is..."

"What's frightening about me Paimon?"

A soft voice made Paimon shrill in surprise making her gasp and wheeze. Aether mildly turns back with a less-reactive surprised expression at seeing the saurian hunter.

"Hi Kinich,"

Kinich greets them politely, "Traveler, Paimon how do u do?"

Paimon recovering from her shock, groans, "Jeez Paimon almost got a heart attack! Stop sneaking up on us like that... your quiet anyway unlike your pixel-poop-mouth!"

Ajaw snarls, "Who are you calling poop-mouth, tiny ant?"

"Oh and Paimon's bigger than you!"

They continue bickering making Aether sheepishly give Kinich an apologetic look, "Sorry about that..."

"I should be the one to apologise..." kinich replies solemnly, making Aether like this guy more for his awkward informal side.

"Ajaw, do you want another time out?"

Ajaw turns to kinich, his mouth dropping in anguish. "Grrr! Fine, fine! I won't torment the anaemic ant!"

"Hehe" Paimon smirks. "Know your place little dragon lord!"

Aether rolls his eyes, "Paimon... behave"

Paimon pouts, looking sideways, "awww alright im sorry Kinich... and maybe Ajaw"

"Maybe??"

Ignoring Ajaw's short snap, Kinich shakes his head, a hand to his chest. "Don't be Paimon. You're actually a kind companion to the traveller..." he adds deliberately after casting a look at Ajaw, "It makes me jealous"

"Huh? I'm more powerful ya know! Oi! Kinich!"

Aether hears Paimon floating towards Kinich, "Kinich, you don't smile much, do you?"

Kinich slightly astonished responds, "I beg your pardon? I do..."

"When?" Partly challenging and partly curious.

"Like... right now?"

They all stared. Even Kinich seemed uncertain about what he just said. Paimon huffs, mildly irritated, "OK so... laughing? Ever dont that before..."

Ajaw floats around Kinich, his pixel hands patting his shoulder, "Haa hahaa would love to see that embarassing sight."

Kinich shrugs him off, the bandana making him seem like he's angry but he's just frustrated with Ajaw.

"All the more reason why I should not"

Ajaw being slightly pushed away but regains balance in air comes swirling back to him with a cunning sneer, "Uh oh someone's a little defensive... afraid I'll exploit a weakness?"

Aether sense tension, usually he would've stepped in to stop Kinich's discomfort with Ajaw but knowing the topic he was curious where this was going.

Paimon is no better now - contrast to Ajaw's scheming malice - she steps in to prompt Ajaw's hint, "Oooh does this mean he does laugh?"

Kinich folds his arms, somewhat wary where this was going. Yet he failed to notice where Ajaw just disappeared.

"I do, but not all the time -"

"Yeah, just poke him like this, and he'll go gyaaahaahaa!" Ajaw swiftly pokes Kinich around the waist close to the small of his back, making him spasm in shock, gasping, "Oi!"

Silence. Paimon's eyes widened, and so did Aether's. They all exchanged glances. Now Ajaw proudly danced and shook his tail, as if he got the best victory after 500 years.

"Kinich?" Aether smirks, now barely hiding his excitement, "Are you ticklish?"

The saurian hunter now stared, knowing there's no other way to dodge the question. He swiftly seized Ajaw's tail, now activating his grappling hook. He swings off till he disappeared through the clouds.

His flight instincts kicked in. Paimon stared in bewilderment, but she was the only one until Aether began to take the one-sided challenge.

Somewhere by the top of the mountains in Scion of the canopy, Kinich cautiously looked by the trees, hoping he had escaped. He knew now or never... and his experience in running away has been helpful.

"Baa! You coward..." Ajaw scoffed, now teasing, "Were you that scared?"

"It was not fright... I just don't like the thought of showing the traveller such an absurd state" he sternly added "and you're officially in time out"

Ajaw grumbled now, waving his small pixel arms "Grr... whatever, but you know Kinich"

"What?"

"Running away doesn't always help ya... when there's a good seeker"

He frowns, looking somewhat confused by this indirect analogy. "What do you-?"

"Gotcha!" Aether swings by instantly now tackling (not on purpose) Kinich as they both tumbled to the ground.

"J-jeez traveller be careful" Kinich groan, now sounding concerned. "Don't use that hook, so lightly"

Aether chuckles straddling him. "Thanks your a nice guy... now ever heard of the saying "you can run but you can't hide" Kinich?"

Before he could struggle he already felt nimble fingers attacking his sides.

"O-ohokay w-wahait tihihihime ohohout!"

His giggles are soft and yet very childish. Aether stares in wonder... he had heard many sweet voices but hearing Kinich like this is like a dream in Nahida's world.

"Wow.. you're sensitive, Ajaw wasn't lying"

Ajaw smirks "Hehe that was one of the weaknesses that I'm proud of exploiting in him"

"You mean the only one?" Paimon scoffs.

"Ah! Took you long enough useless ant"

"You! You pixel weirdo!" Paimon stomps her foot on the air angrily and begins bickering with Ajaw.

Kinich and Aether... well they have other better matters to attend to.

"So tell me, is this spot worse than this?" His fingers creeping towards his hips making him buck in surprise, grabbing Aether's wrists which didn't help, "Ah! Aether!"

"You said my name! Nice!" He gets his hips and then back to his waist... slipping the jacket down a little bit to access the skin.

"Ahaharchons juhuhuhust stohohohop a mihihinute plehehehehease!" Kinich curls to the side, suddenly his laughter getting louder when Aether targets his ribs with swift unpredictable speed.

"Uh oh ribs? That's not good... especially since your swinging around..." Aether smirks, now tapping and prodding his ribs as Kinich jerks to his back to protect his sides. His long lashes damp with tears.

"And you won't be able to swing comfortable knowing how vulnerable here..." he pinches the highest set ribs with indication "Oh and perhaps under here?" Slipping his fingers right under his arms making Kinich let an (honest to archon) a squeak.

"You're a sweetheart"

"Ihihihi ahahahahappreciahahahate the cohohohompliment buhuhuhut y-yohohohour kihihilling mehehe!" He giggles now. Trying to cover his worst spots as much as he could.

Aether laughed, now pausing a little, instead keeping his wrists pinned on either side of Kinich's head to keep him in anticipation.

"OK ok! Sorry, I always had to break the serious guys in this world."

Kinich groans, slightly huffs of laughter now calming down at the small break.

"Ajaw said Kinich has a weak neck!"

Paimon's sudden outburst on that fact made Kinich shiver. Aether turns to her first then back at him, a very mischievous smile that made Kinich shake his head a little, somewhat pitiful.

"Tch! The mighty dragon lord knows what a whimp he is but he still refuses to die.. bahahawahaha" Ajaw cackles in a sinister tone "Oh laugh to death Kinich!"

Aether rolls his eyes, "we are not killing him, just playing around... like friends"

Kinich's eyes that used to be blank slightly glistened with brightness, "Friends?"

"Yup and friends... make friends happy!" Aether wiggles his fingers right over his collarbone and throat lightly. Kinich knees kicked up in reflex, but they didn't stop Aether's fiery determination to tickle him.

"Ahaha Aetheheheher hehehee cuhuhuhut ihihit out! Hahaha ok ok y-yohohohou won! You won! Ok! Just mehehehercy! Mercy!

After that implore, Aether stopped tearfully laughing as well, falling next to Kinich, eyes bright golden and with bliss, "ohoho man that was so funny... im glad I saw this side of you..."

Kinich's breath was somewhat heavier as he managed to grab his composure swiftly as an amazing athlete "I-I uh... thank you traveler... I guess it wasn't that bad"

Ajaw growls, "Awwww, come on! I bet if you got his armpits more seriously next, he might not say that! Come on, traveler, I'm begging ya! Tickle this guy to death -g-gaaaaaaah curseeeee youuuu!"

Once more he just got confined into a space suddenly gone. Kinich sighs as he puts Ajaw away easily, resting an arm over his hip as he gets up now tired but somewhat... relaxed?

"Hey Kinich..."

He jolts when Aether poked his armpit that was exposed, making him stare in surprise "That's round two the next time we meet? And don't listen to Ajaw... tickling isn't something bad... its what friends do to have fun"

Kinich silently debated this answer... smiling genuinely. Perhaps Mualani was right... friends are amazing.

"Well come by traveler... its much livelier here with you around" Kinich offers, now giving an awkward smile.

"Aww miss me already?" Aether grins, then nudged him, "or the tickles"

"Just... you" he grunts, but looking sideways, with a timid look that seemed to have never appeared until today.

Aether will cherish that moment forever and also his laugh.

#tickle fic #cute #genshin impact #smilingangel582 #kinich #lee!kinich #ticklish!kinich

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 2 days

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Hihi slug, I love your work, and thanks for everything!! Since Matenro season is nearly upon us, I was wondering if we could get your opinion on the solo snippets🤞🤞

Matenro's new solo previews are SO GOOD, what do you think of them?

Thank you both for notifying me about them! Taking a look now...

(The album is probably already out now, but... better late than never...)

Jakurai's A Majestic Figure

Title note: 4-kanji compounds are like the SAT vocab words of Japanese; they're not super common in everyday speech and can evoke a literary or sophisticated feeling. This one is...interesting. To the best of my knowledge, it isn't a standard compound (I'm also not getting any hits when I Google it) and I wonder if that's significant. It's just two words strung together to make the appearance of fanciness, perhaps. I couldn't say for certain. At any rate, both 威風 and (especially) 颯爽 describe a majestic, often captivating appearance. This isn't to say that such qualities of dignity or majesty aren't real, but I definitely feel like both terms are defining a subject from an outside perspective. These aren't terms I would ever expect someone to describe themselves with, which makes the song title sound like it's an outside observer commenting on Jakurai instead of Jakurai talking about himself. We see this happen a lot in Hypmic, with people putting Jakurai on pedestals or Jakurai struggling to see himself as the same grand figure others perceive him as. As a result, I wrote the song title as "A Majestic Figure" to emphasize the appearance of majesty, whereas the character of the figure is unknown. Anyway, let's dive in and see what this is all about.

(10 seconds in) Vibing with these instrumentals

(19 seconds in) Not vibing with these "ah"s... but we can't have everything in life

(43 seconds in) I'm a little too tired to fully keep up (I'll look up the lyrics when I'm done) but I REALLY like the urgency in the delivery, which is so at odds with the flowing, dignified background music. In JPN fiction as a whole, flusteredness/desperation is contrasted with calmness as a synonym for imperfection and perfection. Jakurai is, honestly, really kind of a desperate character...yet one that appears outwardly calm/perfect to most of the rest of the cast, so it's interesting that we get to see his desperate nature on full display right at the start of the song.

(1:26 in) Hand motif mentioned *Cinemasins ding* (of

(End) Thank you uta-net for having the lyrics up already; ily. Let's see now... Interesting. I'll have to read them again in more depth later, but it looks like a call to forgive past wounds and seek out a better, less painful way of existence--in a societal sense, a religious (as in like, ascending or becoming enlightened) sense, and a personal sense. All great things to see Jakurai expressing. Again, it's interesting to see Jakurai expressing this with such urgency, even if these are things we know he really, really cares about. That coupled with the background music seems to match a bit in the lyrics that says "And [to end war within society, paraphrased] I take grand, dignified action mixed with the discord and noise of Shinjuku, a samsara spiral of cacophonous echoes." Mixing the stately and the chaotic, the "imperfect" and the "perfect." Really interesting stuff!

Hifumi's The Beginning of the Last Song

Title note: "Last Song" is English and written in katakana, which is a sharp contrast to the style of Jakurai's title. Creates a much younger and casual feel appropriate for Hifumi. Not much else to say here, so let's jump in.

(10 seconds in) Modern indie pop song on the radio feel. I'm not a fan of autotune in general so I'm not in love with this, but I'm hopeful it'll pick up soon.

(22 seconds in) I listen to so much "soft hiphop" (for lack of a better term) during work that my brain instantly catapulted itself into work mode and stopped paying any attention to the words. Coffee mug? Check. Emails? Check. Anxiety? Check. Let me rewind and listen to this properly.

(32 seconds in but for real this time) So far, very Hifumi. Opening verse has some fun figurative language but essentially says Hifumi's suit is pure courage he dons like a suit of armor. In doing so, it masks him and makes him become like a whole other person. From there, he switches to addressing a listener: "I want to soothe your mental wounds. I want to change your frown into a smile. I won't let go of your hands, and no, I'm not doing this for a reward." It's something that Hifumi should be saying to himself (something Hifumi wants to hear, maybe?) and yet he says "To [Host!]me, this is happiness."

(59 seconds in) Hmm... I was going to say this song feels sad to me, because all these positive messages of "Keep going! You're safe now!" are framed as being directed at other people, and I was like..."Hifumi, who's going to say that to you? Who's going to help you feel that way?" but then the line "You made me realize I'm not alone" radically flips the framing so that it DOES become things Hifumi is saying to himself, too. How nice. :) I would not want to translate this, personally... Haha it's using the vagueness of Japanese grammar and lyrical conventions to great effect, but I don't feel comfortable touching that personally.

(1:02) Hell yeah, belt that shit, homie

(1:32) So it's a last song in the sense that it's a farewell or the final song of his old self. Now he's the new, healing Hifumi. We love to see it 10/10 bravo. The song is also a happy, heartfelt thank you to the unspoken listeners (presumably Matenrou) who helped him feel less alone. That's cute! I like it. I probably shouldn't go here, but I find it intriguing how the vagueness of listeners is utilized. The first time the listeners are addressed, the language is...if not borderline romantic, pathos-filled to the point where it's definitely evocative of his host job (hence why he's not seeking compensation for handholding, an often romantic gesture). Yet it's borderline enough that it wouldn't be inappropriate to imagine it being addressed to Matenrou instead of his patrons. Hahaha. Again, another reason I don't want to go near this one.

(Overall) I like it! A nice ballad for Hifumi.

Doppo's Andante

(5 seconds in) For a song called Andante, this has a faster tempo than at least one other song on this album lol. But it's much less frenetic than Doppo's other solos, so there's that, I guess.

(7 seconds in) This delivery is giving me anime ending made by a 2010s rock band vibes lol.

(14 seconds in) Damn there's a baller line here that I'm stumped on how to convey in Eng in a way that's both baller and sensical. Meaning wise, it's like "I want to take back the things I shouldn't have said and give them as a present to you" and in figurative language it's like "Once, I used to fire words into the air [speak things in anger or carelessly]. Now, I want to gather them up [esp. like a bouquet of flowers] after their flight and use them to decorate you [again, like flowers or like a piece of jewelry--it's a positive connotation]" Pop off, Doppo

(40 seconds in) Oh this is killer and also going to need some major explaining. Doppo's name is literally "he who walks alone" which is usually considered a positive thing--someone who "walks the path of life" alone would have gotten there by outstripping the rest of the pack. In Doppo's case, though, this is a negative thing. I think it's not as obvious to Eng-only fans, and I know I didn't really think about it for a long time myself, but Doppo considers himself a "loser" bc he didn't follow a conventional life path. It's considered atypical to switch employers, especially very early on in one's career, as he did when he stood up for Hifumi and got himself fired at his first job. Part of why he puts up with shitty treatment at EL Medical is because it's one of the few places that would hire someone who switched employers at such a young age. (Sidebar: My (probably flawed, as I don't live in Japan) impression is that this is becoming less and less of a thing as time goes on and the economy goes to shit, but I think it's the self-stigma more than anything else that's affecting Doppo. To me, it feel similar to the societal pressures in the US to attend and graduate from a four-year college. Plenty of people don't for all sorts of reasons, but because that's so ingrained as the default life story for Americans in a lot of communities, Doppo's dealing with the kind of disappointment and self-hatred someone who dropped out before getting a four year degree might feel.) Doppo beats himself up about that a lot, but here we get that lovely line of "In the waves of people (hitonami) passing all around me, I no longer see anyone who looks like me. It's a shame, because I always wanted to be just like everyone else (hitonami)." Outside of that beautiful wordplay on hitonami, we're also treated to the figurative language of hitonami being literally "in line with others." Doppo, a character who walks through life alone, wanted to walk through life at the same pace/reaching the same milestones at the same time as everyone else.

(1:04 in) "Life is a tightrope act; it's like walking a balance beam [lit. "average beam" aka a beam where everything is averaged/balanced]. In a country where not everything can be average (narasarenai) and where even if the things that [I] can accomplish (narasareru) don't matter [in the eyes of society], sometimes the sounds I want to make don't come out right (narasarenai). When that happens, I can call myself pitiful--or I can feel the breathing of the beautiful flowerbed that is this city, and when someone's humming under their breath disturbs that short break [lit. breath], I ask them 'So, what is this happiness thing anyway?'" I would rather die than TL this song but I'm LOVING the creativity and depth of the lyrics.

(1:27) WILD! FUCKING! CHEERING!!! "You fake smiles in a mirror to make other people happy and call it love. It's a form of hypnosis, and I've made a go of falling under its spell because I just want to be equals [on par with, balanced], and so if you and I can walk these crowded streets together, then I think I don't mind as much that I'm always walking alone." THE GROWTH! THE GROWTH!!!!

Damn, this album's lyrics go hard. What a feast.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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cuckaracha · 3 days

Note

Ohhh please give Ace opinions. I love seeing people yap about Ace

With pleasure ^_^!

V spoilers talk! V

Most of my opinions were revealed to be sort of true on the last episode so it wouldn't surprise me if this is one-to-one what everyone believes now: Ace to me seems like an extremely love starved person, like, its so painfully obvious that he's faced some sort of neglect in his life. So much so to the point that he keeps himself guarded all the time to avoid falling for the trap of liking someone and then they immediately turn on him. Hence what he said to Levi during the trial. Ace is feels too much. He's well aware of his surroundings and how shitty he acts, but if he doesn't feel anger or fear, the loneliness kicks in. It's a toxic cycle of self-hatred, low self-esteem and cynicism. Though I do believe that it's mostly the situation making his bad habits shine more brightly, because during the prologue/chapter1, Ace is kind of just a bratty jock. He cracks jokes, he hangs out with everyone and he seems to not be plagued as much by his fear unless you breach the topic.

Hence why I personally think that there's no other person like Levi to be used as foil for him. Regardless of how you think on their relationship, be it romantic or platonic or whatever, it's nothing new that their attitudes clash so much, it comes back around to them covering each other's weakness very well. A little guy that feels to much and is scared of giving out of fear of being hurt, and a big guy that feels too little that gives to others out of necessity. So when taken to their natural extreme, they would very obviously have problems, specially under the circumstances that they're both in. Ace, tragically believing the one thing he knew he shouldn't have, and Levi hopelessly attempting to fix what he inadvertently broke. It's peak toxic yaoi imo.

(which also, at least in my opinion, makes Levi the one true Ace lover. None of the other boys have as much of their nuance intrinsically mangle with Ace's as him. But again, that's just me. Ship this little freak with however boy you want. Fuck it. Make him a slut even.)

The other thing that has popped in my mind a lot is his family situation. I know with my take of his family, he's like a middle child or whatever, but that was just me wanting to be contrarian to the obvious, more solid interpretation of Ace being the eldest of the 9 brothers. Because when you think about, him being forced into jockeying by his family to maintain them economically makes sense. He hates it, but if he doesn't do it, he'll be the loser everyone knows him to be. He'd be disposed of by his family, believing that they only care about him for his talent and the money that comes from it. And if he doesn't do it, the job might fall to one of his younger siblings. Something he can't morally do. Because as much of a stupid little shithead as he is, he's not an idiot. Ace knows what's right and what's wrong. He understands the cruelty of the world to an extent. And as such. He's forced into being the breadmaker for his big ass family until the day he either retires or dies.

All this to say. I love Ace Markey. He's such a silly little goofball full of depression and anxiety that is one fart away from going insane. Like I haven't even touched on my thoughts on Taylor (which I also got right on my earlier theory) and how that affects the Ace economy. I relate so much to this guy it's fucking unreal. I don't think I've ever hyperfixated on a character this much. Like. So much so that I even got a fucking custom plushie made out of him and am constantly drawing him.

Anyways thanks for listening to my old man ramble, have an Ace my friend Fennex made.

#ace markey #drdt #danganronpa despair time #despair time #gay #fanganronpa #reo answers

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elliewithcellie · 2 days

Text

Long Cool Woman - Chapter 5

chapter summary: You head into Day Two with much more trepidation, unprepared to handle this hunt, and scared out of your mind for the pageant tomorrow. Sam does his best to comfort you.

wc: 4.4k

cw: body insecurity, heavy scar talk, shirtless!Sam, you show each other your scars, heavy angst, mention of deaths, Sam comfort, gentle touches, nothing sexual but i'd say slight nudity (it'll make sense I swear), condom mention again lol oops, blood, spn canon violence

a/n: Nothing better than some good ole Sam comfort. Find the rest of the story here

You, Sam, and Dean got ready for the day, an extra sense of dread looming over you. Sam and Dean suited up to return to square one, and you prepared for Day Two. As nervous as you were yesterday, it paled in comparison to what you feared awaited you in the hotel lobby.

The boys walked you to the entrance again, much quieter than the day before. Sam was the first to speak up upon arrival.

“Don’t worry too much today, ok? Just do what you did yesterday, and you should be fine. We should be back by the time you’re done.”

“And if we aren’t,” Dean said, “stay in the hotel room, alone, until we get back.”

You huffed over his specification but nodded anyway.

“If anything does happen, don’t hesitate to call. We’ll be right there,” Sam said.

“I’ll let you know,” you said. “Just, be safe and be smart, you guys.”

The two boys nodded, wearing grim looks before heading out the doors.

“Wait,” you called out. “Sam, your flannel.”

Sam smiled. “It’s ok. Just keep it warm for me until I get back.”

You smiled back at him, his comment oddly enough to comfort you.

You found your seat in the lobby with the other contestants and kept to yourself. You watched as Nancy Roshambo announced the day’s schedule, but you had difficulty focusing. You tried to remain calm, but anyone in this room could be the demon. You scanned the room hoping to find anyone who seemed a little off. Your eyes found James. He smiled and gave a subtle wave. Your heart fluttered. You sent a small smile back and continued your search. You weren’t going to let yourself become distracted by him again. The Winchesters were counting on you. As you searched around, you noticed Tod Larkins, the older man on staff, standing right in front of the window where you had found the sulfur pile. His lips moved as if to mutter something, but you couldn’t make out what.

“Hey! Did you talk to him?” Tanya asked you, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, James? Yeah, he asked me to dinner,” you said still a bit distracted.

“Well?” she asked. “How was it?”

You couldn’t help but blush at the question, the memories resurfacing. “It was really good. We talked all through dinner, and” —you lowered your voice— “he’s a really good kisser.”

“Oh my god! That’s what I’m talking about! I’m so proud of you! And jealous, honestly. Anyone would kill to have a piece of him.”

You chuckled at her words, still bashful over the interaction. Before long, the contestants were ushered into the ballroom for practice.

Over the next few hours, you and the contestants counted your steps and practiced your routines. But you had a harder time following directions today. Your mind was elsewhere, nervous that too much focus on the routine would have you missing vital clues to this hunt. You watched Tod approach James in the back of the room. Tod was emotive with big hand movements, while James looked cross, cold, something you had never seen from him. Their argument grew, their muffled voices traveling to the stage before Tod stormed off.

“Alright, ladies!” Nancy began, interrupting the drama. “We are now going to practice the question round! Line up in the same order as before. When it is your turn, stand in the center of the stage. The person up next will wait at the marker to the left. When you have finished your questions, you are free to leave.”

Unfortunately, the contestants lined up alphabetically in order of state, leaving only five girls behind you. Your long day had only gotten longer. Your feet dragged to each marker, your will to continue withering away. Each woman answered the first question the same way.

“What is one thing you wish for this world?”

“World peace,” each of them said. You weren’t sure if this was a shorthand for rehearsal or if they all felt that to be the right answer. Scared for the former, you tried to come up with a real response to the question.

Nearly two hours later, only five girls remained in front of you. You would have fallen asleep standing up if you could have. Something crackled above you, drawing your eyes to the ceiling. Everything looked how it did before. The flags gently waved against the air conditioning, and the stars dazzled in the stage light.

One by one, the contestants answered their questions. And one by one, you inched closer to your turn, your stomach in knots. Finally, you were up next, Miss Utah dead center stage. Crackling caught your attention again. The sound grew louder and louder, pops bursting from the ceiling. The shimmering star directly above Miss Utah jolted as each cable snapped one by one. You rushed to Miss Utah and pushed her to the side as the last cable popped, sending the star crashing into the stage.

Screams erupted within the ballroom. The stage was destroyed. The star lodged itself into the wood perfectly on the center-stage marker. Half the people in the auditorium scrambled to find help, frantic commotion and accusations bouncing off the walls. Others stood there motionless, the weight of what almost happened leaving them speechless.

You kneeled next to Miss Utah. “Are you hurt?” you asked, examining her for any breaks or scrapes. Tears streamed down her face, and her breathing accelerated, short and shallow, as blood drained from her face.

“Hey, you’re ok. Just breathe. Just breathe.” You took her hand and mimed steady breathing hoping she would follow suit. “What’s your name?”

“L—London. I almost died. I could have died!”

“Listen, you’re ok, London. Ok? Look. I’m shaking, too. It’s ok to be shaken up. But you’re ok.”

You showed her your shaking hand. You suddenly weren’t sure how that was supposed to reassure her, but her breathing calmed anyway.

“Can someone call for an ambulance?” you shouted. A couple of people ran up to you both and ensured that help was on the way. Once you knew that she was in good hands, you left to call the boys.

“What happened?” Dean answered.

“A girl almost died. I—I watched it happen,” you stuttered.

“Is she hurt?” you heard Sam ask.

“Are you hurt?” Dean repeated.

“I’m fine. I’m ok.”

“She’s ok,” Dean said.

“You guys need to come back as soon as you can. Something’s going on.”

“We’re on our way. Head straight to the room. Don’t leave, and don’t open the door for anyone. We’ll talk when we’re back.”

“Please hurry,” you said, your voice shaking.

You hung up and headed straight to your room. You shut the door behind you and latched every lock the door had to offer. You turned on all the lights and closed the blinds, unable to shake the feeling that you were being watched. That they knew you were onto them.

You grabbed your book of Latin and settled back into Sam’s bed. You kept your back against the headrest to keep your line of sight completely unobstructed. Your heart thudded beneath your skin as you memorized the exorcism. Your mind was fuzzy. It resorted to thoughts of the old man from earlier muttering things under his breath by the window and the fight with James in the ballroom. It had to be him. No one would suspect an old man. Tod Larkins was off; you were sure of it.

A knock on the door pulled a gasp from your lungs. You covered your mouth with your hand. You stilled every muscle in your body. They knocked again, harder this time.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there,” you heard James say through the door. “I just wanted to check in and see if you were ok, after this afternoon.”

Your heart longed to talk to him. You could feel his pull through the door, his yearning for you, and you had ignored him all day. It pained you to blow him off. You didn’t know what to do.

“Is it something I did?” he asked. You could hear the hurt in his voice.

“No, no,” you said, walking to the door. “You didn’t do anything. It was just a lot today, you know?”

“Could I come in? We could talk about it. I’d hate to leave you to deal with this on your own. It must’ve terrified you.”

You nodded, knowing he couldn’t see your response. “As much as I’d appreciate it, I just need some time to myself. To focus on my questions for tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

You weren’t sure at all. What you would give to let him in and distract you from the dangers of today. The rush he gave you was mind-altering, rewiring your brain to become an adrenaline junkie. But you had to be smart. You couldn’t afford to lose logic and your willpower.

“I’m sure,” you croaked, every muscle fighting against you.

“Oh. Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” His footsteps faded in the distance until the sound of silence replaced them.

You let out a shaky breath. Tears struck your eyes and threatened to fall. You hated this. Why couldn’t you have a normal life? Why did you have to push away a man who cared about you? And if you thought about it too hard, it could have been you under the star. Or worse, what if you weren’t quick enough to save Miss Utah? There could have been another death, now on your hands. You curled back in bed, a sick feeling drowning your senses. Your thoughts motivated you to continue practicing the exorcism, demanding yourself to perfect it.

The door clicked open, catching on the latch. “Hey, it’s us,” Dean said.

“Password.”

“Sandra Bullock.”

You got up and unlocked the door. The boys plowed through the door straight to you. “You’re sure you’re ok?” Sam asked checking over you.

“I’m fine. Just spooked.”

“We saw what happened,” Dean said. “Super lucky no one was hurt. We talked to the girl in the ambulance, but she wasn’t much help.”

“I’m just glad I got to her in time,” you said.

“You saved her?” Sam asked, his voice soft.

“It all happened so fast. The cables snapped, and there was no time to think. I just pushed her. Did you see the damage?”

“We did,” Dean said, his voice low. The room filled with the weight of your near-death experience.

“Just so we’re checking all boxes,” Dean said, “how do we know this isn’t just some shoddy workmanship?”

You shook your head. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw today. And I think I know who caused it.”

The brothers glanced at each other before returning their attention to you. “Tell us everything. Start from the beginning.”

After explaining every minute detail, every strange Tod Larkins occurrence, to the boys, Dean stood up and started pacing the room.

“Yeah, all that adds up, but something isn’t sitting right with me.”

“Me, too,” Sam said. “Because if this guy was smart, he’d wait until tomorrow to cause the most destruction. If chaos is what he wants, a live broadcast would be the perfect way to cause panic. So, what was the point of today’s mishap? If that girl died, they would have postponed the pageant at the very least, and what good does that serve him?”

“Do you think he’s thinking that far?” you asked. “Like I said, he looked angry. What if it was a spur-of-the-moment practice round before the big day?”

Dean shook his head. “Regardless, it’s clear he’s waiting for his big number tomorrow. So, you’ll need to let us know where he is so we can end him.”

“That’s all?” you asked.

“Should be,” Dean said. “All you need to worry about is looking pretty for the judges, and we’ll tell you when it’s handled.”

You scoffed at him and rolled your eyes. But you hid a deeper emotion. You had been going through the motions of this pageant, practically forgetting that this wasn’t make-believe. The reality that you really had to follow through with modeling in front of thousands of people began to set in. The thought you had pushed to the back of your mind had come back swinging, making you nauseous.

“It’s getting late. You guys get food without me. I’ve got some interrogations to pursue.”

“Interro—Dean, what?” Sam said.

Dean pulled the number he got from one of the contestants out of his pocket and smiled.

“Gross,” Sam said, his voice monotone.

Dean headed toward the door, only to stop in his tracks. “Hey, uh, Sam? You don’t happen to have that condom I gave Y/N, do you?”

Sam’s face shaded a deep red. Your interest was piqued. You were so nervous about your misdeeds this morning that you hadn’t even considered how he spent his night. It wasn’t your business, just like what you did wasn’t his. Still, you waited with bated breath. He rummaged through his duffle bag and pulled the wrapper out of the jeans he wore the night before. You exhaled as he threw it to Dean.

“Thanks, Sammy. You two have fun now.” Dean winked and shut the door behind him.

“I hate him, sometimes,” said Sam, breaking the silence.

You laughed. “Come on. Let’s order a pizza or something.”

You joined Sam on his bed as you ate pizza and watched a movie. You both sat with your backs against the headboard and your legs straight ahead, though your toes didn’t reach his shins. Sam’s laugh wasn’t something you heard often, but it was always something you welcomed. And tonight was no exception. The two of you laughed in tandem with the antics playing on the screen. There was no urgency. Nothing compelled you to talk over the movie. No desire to impress or convey a certain side of you felt needed.

As the sun cast more and more shadows across your room, the day had turned to night. You had inched closer to Sam, his warmth a gentle lure. His arm rested against yours, a tender reminder of his presence. The TV-lit room reminded you of the long day you’d had. And Sam’s shoulder felt like an open invitation. Nothing but courage could describe the reasoning behind your action. You laid your head on his shoulder, your heart stopping when he moved. He lifted the arm against yours up and over, pulling you closer to him. You settled in against his chest, a sigh escaping your lips, and continued to watch the movie.

Once the movie ended, you collected yourself and the anxiety that came with you. You remained quiet as the two of you got ready for bed. Your body tensed over what tomorrow had in store for you.

With Dean gone for the night, you climbed into his bed. You pulled at the covers and found yourself staring at your scars. Heat rose to your cheeks, embarrassed to be tattered up like this, and terrified to be on full display for everyone in the crowd to judge.

“Y/N?” Sam asked pulling you from your daze. You found concern in his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed as if trying to find an answer in yours. “Are you ok?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m ok,” you said as you pulled the covers up.

Sam stretched to turn on the light between you. “Are you sure? You seem a bit tense.”

Since you’d met him, Sam had learned to read you like a book. You hated how much your face gave away, how he always understood the truth without your words. Nothing was left a secret between you. Maybe that was ok.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said.

“It does to me if it does to you.”

You huffed into your pillow. “It’s the pageant tomorrow. I can’t do it. I mean, of course, I’m going to. But I’m scared out of my mind.”

“What’s scaring you?” he asked, moving to sit across from you.

“My scars.” Your lip trembled. “My scars are going to be broadcast across the nation for everyone to see tomorrow. The dresses are bad enough, but the swimsuit will destroy me.”

“But your scars aren’t bad,” Sam said. “I can barely see them from here, much less—”

You sighed and stood from your bed and closed the space between you, almost wedged between his legs. You carefully lifted your shirt to your chest. Scars of old gashes and wounds tarnished your stomach in disarray and one thick vertical scar traced your sternum past where you held your shirt in place.

Sam didn’t say a word. His eyes stayed glued to your figure. He reached his hand out toward you but hesitated, opting to return his hand to his lap.

“It’s from the car accident,” you said. “They said it was a miracle I survived.” You forced out a bitter laugh. “My whole family died, but it’s a miracle I survived. I woke up with my brother’s heart in my chest, but it’s a miracle I survived. I was relocated to live with a stranger who told me monsters are real, but it’s a miracle I survived. Was it a miracle that those demons didn’t kill me last year? Was it a miracle I didn’t die today? What I don’t get is why I’m still here. Why was I the one chosen to live? Why am I the one who has to carry the burden of all the loss in my life?”

Sam said nothing. He stood above you. He turned around and took his shirt off completely. His entire back was marked with slashes and cuts, scar tissue covering most of it. Above his left shoulder blade was a thick, striated scar. It looked lethal. You found your hand hovering over it.

“You can touch it,” he said softly.

It was similar to yours, rigid and rough, protruding from the smoother skin around it. He took your hand and slid it down over his heart as he turned around. Your hand brushed over a matching wound above his beating heart. Your own heart pounded in your chest as you put the pieces together.

“I was stabbed,” he said. “I was supposed to die. I did die. But Dean did something he shouldn’t have. I was supposed to be dead. And it wasn’t by some miracle I lived. It was a deal with a demon. The truth haunts me. It sits with me everywhere I go, that I shouldn’t be alive.”

You watched his every word as he towered over you, never letting go of your hand.

“But I fight every day to make sure that my being alive is worth it. Our scars are nightmare fuel, I know it. It’s the constant reminder of the pain we carry on the inside. But it’s also proof that we made it. So, tomorrow, when you do this stupid fucking swimsuit part of the show, I want you to stand there with confidence. Because it shows your bravery, your resilience, and your will to continue when the odds were stacked against you. It wasn’t a miracle. It was you. It was all you.”

Your breath was heavy with each inhale and exhale. Sam’s chest rose and fell to the beat of his heart. Your eyes stayed locked on his, something staying left unsaid. You took his hand from his chest and rested it at the bottom of your scar. You felt chills run up his arm.

“Is this ok?” you asked.

He nodded. You guided his hand to follow it along your sternum. The pads of his fingers, though rough, delicately feathered your skin. Warmth exuded from his hand as he pressed his palm against you. You leaned into his touch, longing to be wrapped in his arms. You felt the heavy breaths of your secret wash away. Relief spread through you as you looked into Sam’s hazel eyes.

“Thank you for being someone I can share this with,” you said. “It’s easier to hold when I know I’m not alone.”

“I feel the same way,” Sam said.

You released his hand and your shirt and reached your arms around Sam for a hug. He held you close, a hand in your hair as you rested against his chest.

You didn’t want to lose his touch, but Sam broke the silence. “We should get some sleep,” he said in an exhale.

You nodded against him and returned to your bed. You faced Sam, now much too far away.

“Sweet dreams only, tonight. Ok?” Sam said as his shirtless form stretched to turn the light off.

“I’ll do my best. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight.”

You awoke to the alarm you had set. You quickly turned it off, hoping to let Sam rest a little longer. You glimpsed at him, his serenity evident in his soft snores. You sighed and headed toward your duffle bag.

Today was the day. You gathered everything you needed and took residence in the bathroom. You had a long routine ahead of you.

The first and easiest step was to shower. You handled it with ease. Your mind only wandered a couple of times. You decided to let your hair air dry a little before styling, not wanting to stir the boys with the sound of the blow dryer. So, your second step became makeup. You planned in ample time with the intent of multiple revisions if needed. But as you finished the step-by-step cheat sheet the lady at Sephora had made you, you were pleased with the outcome. Maybe you were born with it.

Hair was the hardest step, and you were glad for your extra time. You blow-dried your hair while the curling iron heated. You followed a tutorial on Sam’s computer, but with every strand, you burned yourself. Whether it be your hand or your scalp, you couldn’t help the expletives that left your mouth.

When you finally finished, you dressed in your long gown. You took a long look in the mirror, the tip of your scar peeking above the neckline. Confidence, you reminded yourself.

You opened the door to the bathroom to the boys on their feet. Sam slid into the flannel you wore the day before, and Dean loaded a knife into a holster on his ankle. Dean noticed you first.

“Woah,” he said. He looked at Sam. “Sam.”

Sam looked up at Dean who nodded toward you. “Woah.”

“Be honest,” you said. “Is there anything I should fix? I’m kind of freaking out.”

“I wouldn’t fix a thing, sweetheart,” Dean said, an endearing grin growing on his face.

Sam took a step toward you. “You look beautiful. You’re gonna kill it up there.”

You smiled up at him, bashful over his words.

Dean pulled his phone out. “Say cheese.”

“Come on. Are you serious?” You laughed.

“It’s just in case we miss it. Now, smile.”

You smiled and gave two thumbs up.

“Perfect, now do a spin.”

You rolled your eyes and indulged him this time, letting your dress flow around you.

“That’s so awesome,” Dean said. “It’s like Prom or something.”

“I have to go now,” you dragged the phrase.

“Wait,” Sam said. “It’s the back of your dress again. Turn around.”

You did as you were told and flipped your hair over your shoulder. His hands found your back as he adjusted your dress, just as he did before. But something had changed since then. There was no sense of trepidation, no longer the sense of embarrassment. He was there for you when you needed him, and you trusted him. There were no more barriers between you. You knew you were safe with him.

“There you go. You’re all set.” Sam released his hold, and you faced him again. “Now, go rock the judges’ socks off, Miss Vermont.”

You smiled and headed for the door. As you stepped out, you paused and turned back to the boys. “Please, be careful.”

Sam nodded.

“You, too,” said Dean.

You arrived at the makeshift dressing room and dropped your duffle bag in your labeled seat. The rest of the contestants finished up their looks in the lit mirrors set up in the room. You could not believe the difference professional help made. Everyone’s hair and makeup was more polished than you could have dreamed of, and you were sure these dresses were made custom just for them. You suddenly felt like the discount rack in comparison.

“Hey!” You turned to find Tanya all dolled up, revealing a bright smile.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, nudging her arm.

“I’m so ready!” She threw her fist in the air. “But I really gotta pee, so I’ll see you later. See if your man is nearby.” She winked and ran to the restrooms. You smiled to yourself and shook your head as she bolted. You turned to your mirror and found James in the reflection.

“Wow,” he said.

“Don’t you have a show to run?” you asked, a smirk growing on your lips.

“I just had to see you before I left for work,” he said. He pulled you from your chair and spun you around. A blush spread across your features.

“You look unbelievable, you know that?”

“Thank you,” you said feeling bashful. “That really means a lot. I—”

A shrill scream echoed into the dressing room. You jumped at the sound and looked at James before heading toward the sound. You found Tanya sitting on the restroom floor with tears streaming down her face.

“Tanya! What happened? Are you hurt?” You rushed to her side.

She said nothing. She raised a finger and pointed to the end bathroom stall.

You stood slowly and walked toward the stall, your heart pounding against your chest. You opened the door. Tod Larkins laid on the floor, his once white suit now seeping red. A pool of blood grew beneath him. His eyes stayed open, but nothing behind them remained. He was dead.

You staggered backward against the sinks. The freshness of it all twisted your stomach inside out. “We have to, we have to get out. It’s not safe.”

You turned to face Tanya, now on her feet. Her tears had stopped, the streaks in her makeup the only evidence she had cried at all. James stepped into the room and locked the door behind him.

Everything suddenly clicked together. But it was all too late.

chapter 6