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screams-in-writing · 17 days ago

Text

*launches Mr. Puzzles into the air then choke slams him into the ground*

One shot below, if you just want to read it here. Be advised, it’s near 10k now:

Summary:

A tattered, beaten-up Mr. Puzzles plush comes into your possession; it makes you wonder when you’ll get to see the real one again.

Tags from ao3:

- The day started off normally enough.

There was the usual struggle upon waking to blink the bleariness out of your eyes.

Finding clothing in the dark made extra difficult because you forgot that there’s a light switch in your room. Or, you know, actual sunlight, if you’d thought to open up the curtains.

Rummaging around the kitchen for breakfast while continuing to struggle to wake and see through continued blurry eyes.

Taking so long with breakfast and finding clothing beforehand making you end up jogging to work with said breakfast down the sidewalk. The later unfortunate recollection that you’d left your lunch at home.

A typical day, really.

But what wasn’t typical was being stopped by a coworker at the end of your shift to be given the saddest, most beaten-up pathetic excuse of a plush.

A coworker called out your name, causing you to turn back to see what was up.

”Here you go.” Your coworker said without preamble, thrusting a plushie out for you to presumably take.

It was one of those long-limbed Mr. Puzzles plush.

“I found this in the dumpster behind the cafe while taking out the trash.” Your coworker was staring somewhere near your shoulder as she continued to speak in a hushed tone. “I felt like I was being watched, but no one was there. Still, I didn’t want to tempt fate, so I took the plush out, left the garbage bag, and decided I’d give the plush to you.” With a quick moment of eye contact, then away, she added. “Mr. Puzzles liked you, right? So he probably wouldn’t take it as badly if he saw a plush of himself in such a terrible state if you had it. Instead of someone he thought might have vandalized the plush on purpose.”

Mr. Puzzles sure did seem to take offense to his likeness being destroyed or otherwise ridiculed.

“He hasn’t been to the cafe in years.” Your coworker said bluntly. She then paused, blinked, then awkwardly looked down when she caught a glimpse of the saddened expression on your face. “Sorry. I forgot he hasn’t visited and you...” Another pause. “I mean, I’m sure he’ll turn up again; everyone on the cafe and your podcast friends miss him too.” Another awkward pause as her own expression twisted into discomfort. “Sorry. We know you took him being gone out of the blue the hardest.” Off to the side. “Dammit, I’m shit at this.”

You accept the plush from your coworker as she abruptly thrusts it closer. Then, you watch your coworker randomly walk back into the cafe, but you don’t take it personally.

She tended to have trouble looking people in the eyes and spoke bluntly what she felt in the moment, but you always appreciated the honesty.

Turning your attention to the plush in your hands with its ridiculous long limbs, you find that you do actually feel bad for this plush version of Mr. Puzzles.

Your coworker had been correct; the real Mr. Puzzles hadn’t been around for some time. Years, in fact, since you haven’t even gotten to speak to him.

It wasn’t his fault or yours that the portal between your worlds had been destroyed.

You hoped the smg’s would be willing to make another one, but there was no way for you to communicate with them, so all you could do was wait, and hope.

…you missed Mr. Puzzles a lot.

Smg4 and his friends too, but not as much as the tv headed man who’d begun to mean so much to you.

Stubbornly swiping a sleeve over your face, you head back home with the poor plush, planning to clean it free of any dirt. But you did have an aversion to putting it in the washing machine, or even in a laundry tub to do by hand, unless you didn’t submerge the plush’s head.

This was because you remembered Mr. Puzzles couldn’t have his metal tv head submerged underwater.

You knew this was a plush that you held, and that getting it wet wouldn’t do anything, but you couldn’t help but fall back into memories the longer you stared at the tattered Puzzles plush. You think you may even have another plush like this (one of many the man sneakily smuggled over to your world, and into this town, some of the people delighted by the silliness of his long-limbed plush).

As you got to cleaning, you take in more details of the incredibly poor condition of the plush.

Its left arm was missing from the elbow down, some wires poking out of the cotton inside. Incredible attention to detail, you thought, compared to the other plushies of the same type. You turned the plush over and back to scrutinize the chest area.

Why did the tarted fabric show material beneath that looked like the color of the grayish skin Mr. Puzzles had?

It was kind of in poor taste, considering whoever had this plush decided to slash the plush’s chest and torso with what appeared to be a knife.

It unnerved you to see what looked like traces of dried blood on the areas of the ‘wounds’ with cotton poking out of the cuts too.

You hoped it was just ketchup.

…there was a lot of cotton poking out of the poor plushie.

The color came off with some extra scrubbing, and once you deemed the Mr. Puzzles plush clean, you decided that you couldn’t leave the body torn open like that.

It just so happened that you had thread that matched the plush’s oddly Puzzles’ skin tone colored body, and set about sewing. You were careful to not leave much of the stitching visible, using the ladder stitch you’d learned to use some time ago.

Once that was complete, you finally allowed yourself to focus on the worst of the damage apart from half a missing arm.

The face of the plush.

Usually, it had a mad grin on it along with the eyes that Mr. Puzzles tended to get when he was visibly agitated or feeling a particularly strong emotion. Aka when he was trying to tamp those emotions down instead of flying into a rage.

This plushies ‘screen’?

Completely gone.

The plastic was missing.

The face itself was cut beneath the eyes, and it looked like someone had peeled the top half of the screen face up and off to the side, cotton practically bursting out from the seams no longer there. Beneath, the was a long cut that tore deeply across the technicolor smile.

You used some spare fabric to wrap around the upper half of the plush’s head to prevent the stuffing from coming out further (why you did that, you weren’t sure, but it felt right to do in the moment.

Tomorrow, you’d sew up the mouth, so it didn’t tug at with side of the plush’s head.

It was going to take a lot to fix the poor thing, but you decided to do just that.

As you set the Puzzles plush up on the fireplace mantle and propped it up against a box you put behind it, you kind of just…stared at it for a moment.

Just seeing its condition made you sad.

You inwardly agreed with your coworker from earlier.

The real Mr. Puzzles wouldn’t appreciate the sight of a plush in his image so shabby and beaten to.

…you missed him.

So, so much.

It had been so long since you’d last seen Mr. Puzzles.

Giving your head a little shake, to not fall down those spiraling thoughts, you decided to let the plush dry overnight. Then, you could see what you could do to piece the rest of it back together.

Seeing the poor state the plush was still on, you wanted to do your best. It was unnerving that it looked like someone had been torturing Mr. Puzzles via the plush.

I was unable to move.

It was dark.

A darkness stretching out before me with no light in sight.

I couldn’t see; there was only a darkness that stretched out before me.

A murkiness, with any speck of light denied to me.

I was alone, suspended in this dark isolation that seemed unending.

Not even my own mind was like this, even if I was alone, because I at least had the light of the numerous televisions all around me.

Here?

I had nothing.

It had been a long time since I’d seen anyone.

Heard anyone.

So long since I’d last held you in my arms that I almost feel as if I’d forgotten the sensation, with how trapped I currently was.

The fear and terror paralyzed me as surely as my currently useless body outside of this darkness was.

There was no way for me to even know how long I’d been in this state.

It was a shame that whenever I was released from this terrifying prison that I wouldn’t even be able to put it to use in a show.

I couldn’t even say why I thought that, but I presumed it had to do with how I ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Now, would this be considered horror, or a thriller, I wondered.

It wasn’t like I was being haunted by some ghost or being hunted by a creature.

Something had caused me to become like this.

Suspense, I guess.

Fear of the unknown when there was a sense of something not quite right, only to be unaware until it was too late.

It certainly felt more horror-esque, considering I was aware and yet unaware to do anything about my current situation.

Hm.

I might be able to make something after all.

A freezing chill flowed over me.

Or not.

This was quite unpleasant, and if I could have screamed, I would have done so, regardless of the possible ridicule that may have come from Smg4 or the others, should they happen to be anywhere nearby.

The cold slowly dissipated.

I felt a little better, for some reason I couldn’t place.

Warmer.

Almost safer.

Then it was gone.

As I settled into a listless state of unfeeling immobility. there was only one thing on my mind, apart from escaping this place.

I hoped you would forgive me for being away from you for what seemed like such a very long time.

Today was your day off, which had now become ‘fix the Mr. Puzzles plush’ day.

You gathered the materials that you thought you might need, including another Puzzles plush to replace what the damaged one was missing.

It seemed a shame to ruin a perfectly good plushie, but for whatever reason, you wanted to fix the Puzzles plush you’d placed to dry overnight on the fireplace mantle.

Maybe it was because your coworker had found it in the dumpster, indicating that someone had decided the plushie wasn’t worth keeping and had thrown it away? The thought didn’t sit well with you, perhaps considering how isolated you’d leaned Mr. Puzzles had been once you’d gotten to know him better. The way the man worried for the longest time he’d be rejected by you, even though you, too, were concerned about the same in return.

The whole ‘this other person couldn’t possibly want me, could they?’

How wrong the both of you had been in that regard.

A pant of sadness, as you went about getting the supplies spread out while reaching for the plush to lie in on the kitchen table, musing where to begin with the poor plush.

The fabric wrapped around the head was hiding the worst of the damage, so you decided to start there.

First, you carefully used as similar colored thread you could find to sew the damage across the technicolor smile.

Next, you unwrapped the fabric around the upper half of the plush’s head to begin to push the cotton back inside, and, using gray thread, began to sew the edges of the television screen between the fabric peeled away that held the eyes and the teeth. Then, folding the fabric with the eyes on it back down, you slowly began to sew that back together, until the face of the plush was restored.

It wasn’t perfect, but no one would be able to tell that the face had all but been torn open with cotton spilling out.

Carefully, you took the plastic screen part off of the other Puzzles plush, and arduously began to attach it to the initially damaged Mr. Puzzles long limbed plushie.

With the face of the plush restored, the screen you’d just put over it a near perfect way, you realized that the previous damage to the face was more difficult to see through the somewhat reflective surface.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Smiling at the plush, you look over its ‘clothes’ and the half missing arm. “It’ll be even better when I finish fixing you up a bit more.” Your smile fell as you stared a the plush you’d picked up, holding it under its arms. “I hope I’ll be able to see the real Mr. Puzzles in person sooner rather than later.” Your voice became a hushed whisper as you hugged the plush to you. “I miss him so much. There’s so much I’d like to say to him.”

You prop the plushie up on the table against a box of sewing supplies, and grasped its right hand.

The plush hand was oddly limp.

“But maybe I can just talk to you, silly as that is.” You flopped the small plush hand in your hand in a wave. “That way, when I do see him again, it will be easier for me to say some things to him. What do you say?”

Naturally, the plush Mr. Puzzles said nothing.

There was a jarring of this cold, lifeless place.

It felt like I was on fire, but wherever I was couldn’t possibly be a real fire. I felt I would have somehow been able to know, but then again, how could I know that?

I knew nothing but the darkness and the silence, wherever I was.

All at once, I regained my sense of feeling in my body, but with that came a variety of horrors that hit me one by one.

I couldn’t rightly parse through all of these sensations and the creeping fear while I continued to immobile and therefore, completely helpless. This was only slightly made better by the fact that the darkness was slowly leaving my vision, allowing me my sight once more. But what I saw, I could almost not comprehend, and while my sight may have been restored, I found myself unable to speak, no matter what I did.

My body hurt with a deep, painful ache, but that was something I could handle because a massive relief washed over me upon seeing you.

I wasn’t alone anymore.

Somehow, someway, you’d found me, but there was no chance that you had any idea what you’d found.

As you spoke to me, I yearned to reach out to you. I wanted to wipe away your tears while you talked to me. I so desperately wanted to hold you in my arms, but I wasn’t able to as was now.

Trapped.

I was trapped and unable to do anything about it.

Only watch, as you spoke your hopes and sorrows to me about us reuniting, while you continued to sew up the tears within this body.

When I was back to normal, I was not going to trouble you with just how painful each stitch was, nor how much I wanted to scream and writhe in agony as you sewed the forearm and hand you’d taken from the other plush and attached it to mine.

I had no idea how that would translate when I was restored back to my usual handsome self with my beautiful metal head.

I wouldn’t hold it against you, however, since you had no idea what it was um you held in your hands as anything other than a plushie.

That was a worry for when there was a plan to help me change back, and for that, I needed to get you to realize it was me.

To figure out how to have you understand what you held in your hands; that it wasn’t just any old Mr. Puzzles plush.

It was me.

The real Mr. Puzzles.

And the longer you spoke to me while putting the finishing touches to the plush’s (my) body, I realized that you had no idea that I wasn’t in my home world.

I was here with you, in your’s.

But for how long?

Was I in danger, or did being in my current state mean that I would be fine?

While you made little fixes to my (stupid) plush body’s clothing, I was rather flattered that you’d decided to put together a little ensemble different than the usual long-limbed plush’s of the me’s I’d brought here to your world.

In fact.…the outfit was beginning to look like my suit tailcoat I’d worn to a party with you, complete with little puzzle-pieces and stars adorning it that you’d likely found at a local craft store.

I loved the care you put into it, even if you thought I was merely a lifeless plushie.

In a way, I was, unable to speak or move.

As the day progressed, you eventually were satisfied with my restoration, and set me back up on the mantle of the fireplace.

I desperately attempted to get your attention, and the only way to do this was to play with the trick of light on the ‘screen’ of the plush. I figured out that I could subtly change the expressions beneath the plastic

So many times, I almost caught your attention, but whenever you turned to look at me, you obviously saw nothing out of the ordinary.

I wanted to screen in both frustration and despair.

This wasn’t fair.

We were together again, yet I couldn’t speak, was unable to move.

Useless.

This plush body was useless!

Please.

Just let me get your attention, for one moment.

Please see me.

Even if you yourself couldn’t fix this situation I found myself in, at least you would have been able to know it was me.

I couldn’t stand this; the watching and the waiting.

The only time your hands were on me was when my stupid body ended up sliding one way or another on the mantle of the fireplace.

When it happened for the third time, not of my own volition, I was certain you’d have grown weary of it, and put me somewhere out not sight.

Instead, you picked me up, and brought me to your bedroom for the night to hug me.

I dearly wanted to embrace you in return, but all I could do in this state was just lie there, useless, as you used my plush body to comfort yourself by holding it close to your chest. At the very least, it was nice to be good for something, despite being unable to speak to you. I couldn’t even to let you know that I was there with you.

It was infuriating, if enlightening, to be motionless, hearing both your heartbeat and your voice as you spoke to me.

Had I been able, my screen would have been lit up bright with a heartbeat covered blush and averted eyes.

It took longer than I would have liked for there to finally be an opportunity to get you to see that I was right there next to you until finally, I had one.

It was just unfortunate that the way I was able to let you know who I was ended up being distressing for both of us.

To think that my plush body could take actual damage that caused it to bleed made me wonder if I’d taken more damage right before and after I’d he’d been in that darkness from before.

I couldn’t recall how I even ended up this way, and now all I could think of was the very real deep aching pain from my neck.

You could not believe that there was just a random dog who just so happened to be near your home’s front porch that snuck the Puzzles plush away from you to use as a chew toy.

And just a week after you’d finished restoring it!

There were so many branches in the yard, so why couldn’t the pooch have gone after those?

You chased the dog around to your backyard, the silly thing thinking it was a great game while it shook its head now and again, which furiously shook the Puzzles plush as well. The play bows the dog gave you when you got close were cute, as wee the snorts of breath from past the dog’s muzzle closed over the plushie. And when you got too close, the dog danced out of range to solidify its actions with the ‘play’ part.

It took some time trying to catch the dog before it could dart away, and when you finally got a hold of the plush, you got the weird sensation again that you needed to be careful. You almost immediately let go, however, when the dog thought you were changing the game to tug of war.

But this got the dog to follow you around, and even waited outside on your front porch as you dashed in and back out with a treat in a last ditch attempt to get the animal to galley go.

You weren’t so sure why you were so frantic to get the Puzzles plush away from the dog, but here you were.

“Here boy.” You paused, tilting your head at the dog. “Or girl. C’mere good doggy. Look what I got for you.” You held up a dog bone and waved it; you’d grabbed from inside the house to bribe the dog to let go. One of your roommates’ friends had given some dog bones to all three of you, as a joke, since that friend knew none of you had a pet dog. But hey, it was working out to have those on hand now.

The dog’s ears perked up upon seeing the treat. With a big, wagging tail, the dog dropped the Mr. Puzzles plushie near your feet and sat, intent on the dog bone.

”Good job.” You praises the dog, waving the treat, then tossing it off the porch. With a furiously wagging tail and happy barks, the dog picked up the treat and darted off.

Distantly, there was someone yelling for the dog over the pet having the gall had to somehow jump the fence to run away.

Sighing and shaking your head, you stoop and pick the plush up. You look the plush over after feeling it damp in some places from the dog’s mouth. Your grip shifted and became more firm on the plush when you noted, in alarm, that it was not only saliva making the plushie wet. There was something trickling down the plush’s neck.

It looked like blood.

Unnervingly enough, it was warm and tacky like blood while it sluggishly slid down along the plush’s neck to its upper body.

That was not normal.

Your mind wasn’t exactly sure what to make of this, but there was something telling you to help.

Sooner rather than later.

You head back into the house and wrapped the long-limber Puzzles plush up in a blanket, as if this would somehow help whatever was going on. Washing your hands free of dog saliva and blood (?) you picked up the blanket with the Mr. Puzzles plush tucked within. After locking up the house, you hurried down the sidewalk.

It wasn’t a very busy time a day, so no one saw you booking it down the sidewalk with a panicked look on your face.

You didn’t exactly have a plan, apart from maybe finding something useful in the house Mr. Puzzles used at the edge of town when he visited your world.

Why?

You weren’t sure.

It wasn’t like you were exactly thinking very clearly right now.

In no time at all, you reached the house.

Standing in the front entryway, you fret about what to do.

Really, what were you thinking? This was a plush you were carrying.

Why would it be bleeding?

Was it from the dog instead?

You were about to leave the house, feeling self-conscious about the overreaction, when you recalled you’d not checked on the portal for months. The house you were in just so happened to be where the portal between worlds was located, safely in the basement, behind a password locked door.

Might as well take a look before you leave. It really was a shame it wasn’t working.

Sighing, you walk over to the door to the basement, and, entering an passcode, entered then closed the door behind you.

One safety check passed.

You closed the door behind, and walked down the stairs after flicking on the light. Holding the blanket close, you made your way down the staircase, mind drifting with each step.

What was it you were expecting to find, other than to confirm whether or not the portal was back up and running.

Hope to see other friends again?

Sadness that the portal may not be there after all?

You paused at the base of the staircase, blowing out a slow, slow breath as you steeled yourself for disappointment.

Just look.

Might as well get it over, and who knows?

Maybe things will be different this time-

You sucked in a sharp breath, looking first with confusion, then with slowly dawning hope.

There was a telltale light beneath the door on the other side of the spacious basement.

It couldn’t be…could it?

Holding the blanket with the Puzzles plush tighter to your chest, you cautiously stepped forward and reached out to carefully enter the code to the door. Taking another breath, then letting it out slowly, you shove the door open and step through it, before leaning back into the heavier door in order to it shut behind you to be resealed.

As soon as you heard the sound indicating the door was secure, you turned.

And stared.

Uncomprehendingly at first until slowly, a smile made its way onto your face as excitement grew.

The portal was back.

It was working again!

It looked stable, the glowing swirl that looked like a galaxy of blue and white.

The portal looked exactly like it was the first time it had been created. And to prove that it was working, the computer on the desk was on.

When you appraised, you were able to see that there was a note that was left open a document.

‘Sorry that it took so long to fix and stabilize the portal. I hope you’ve been doing okay. It’s hard to tell how much time passes between the two worlds, but since they’re parallel to one another, the time ought to be similar.

Is Mr. Puzzles there with you? No one has seen him for about three years over here.

Is he all right? Tari was wondering, since she mentioned something about seeing him enter the portal, but said she doesn’t remember seeing Puzzles coming back through before the connection went down. Even if he did go through, he does have tools over there to keep up on maintenance. Tell him that he still has to fix one of the sheds here in the showgrounds that he put together and then left everything in limbo.

Everything should be good to go with the portal though, so feel free to visit!’

You figured the message was from Smg4, even if he (and 3) merely tolerated Mr. Puzzles’ presence for your sake. As did many of their friends and acquaintances. Smg3 and 4 were both well well aware that it made you happy to be with Mr. Puzzles, and the tv headed man just so happened to behave himself, for the most part, while around you.

Wait.

You reread the document note, and frowned worriedly.

Mr. Puzzles wasn’t in his home world?

For years?

That seemed rather specific, considering you’d not seen Mr. Puzzles for three years as well.

You gaze drops to the blanket and the plush there.

There was no way.

You turned the blanket bundle to get a better look at the Puzzles plush.

But…could it be…?

“Mr. Puzzles?” You asked incredulously, as you tentatively checked the plush’s neck again. When you pulled your hand back, you came away with what was undoubtedly blood, tacky between your fingers. You gripped the blanket near the plush’s head as you leaned over it. “Is that…is that really you? How in the world did you end up like this? Have you been like this for three years? How…when did…?”

Questions later.

Right now, you didn’t think about the craziness that was the possibility of Mr. Puzzles being turned into a plushie. All you thought was to get him somewhere he could get some help. This also meant that you didn’t care about whether or not the portal would remain stable when you use it.

“If this is really you, we’ll figure out how to get you back to normal, don’t you worry.” You told the plush. Holding the blanket to your chest, you start up the portal, and barely wait for it to form before you step into it.

Once on the other side of the portal, you’re actually met not only by Smg4, but 1, 2, and 3 as well.

Convenient, that.

You hoped that one of them knew what the hell happened to Mr. Puzzles because you sure as heck didn’t.

None of the Smg’s were able to speak or even greet you as you practically thrust the blanket wrapped around the long limbed Mr. Puzzles plush (possibly the real one too?) and spoke hastily.

“I thought this was just some random plush thet my coworker found in the dumpster, but a dog just recently had it in its mouth, shaking it around. And now it looks like the plush is bleeding around its neck like what happens to Mr. Puzzles when he spends too long in my world for too long. Can you help him?”

At least, you believe this is what was going on, as you couldn’t think of any other explanation as to why there was honest to goodness blood on the neck of a plush toy filled with cotton.

Thankfully, no one asked questions, because the moment all of them saw the fresh blood sluggishly trailing down from the plush’s neck, all four of them took you seriously that you were serious, that this was actually urgent and you very much were not a joke.

There was a wave of relief when I was finally back in my home world, but I wasn’t especially keen on being around Smg4 and the others like this.

Helpless, and unable to move in this stupid long limbed plush body.

There was still the fear that someone would want to take further revenge against me for what I did in the past. Even if things were better than before, even if I’d made some amends with a few of Smg4’s friends, I knew there was a long way for me to go.

And that not everyone would forgive me.

I could live with that, when I had others I was able to rely on, including you.

It didn’t mean that fear didn’t rise when I saw not only Smg4 and 3 approach me, but also the ones I leaned were called Smg1 and Smg2.

And when my vision was lost again, I was scared.

What were they doing to me?

I…

I couldn’t do anything to stop them, but you were there too, and I trusted you. Trusted you to make what you believed to be the right decision to figure out how to get him out of this predicament.

But it didn’t change how scared I was that something might go wrong.

I was nervous, in that darkness I was suspended within, while I waited for whatever it was the Smg’s were going to do to me.

The longer the darkness continued, the worse what could happen began to filter through my mind.

Would they trap me in this plush, so I would never be able to escape or do anything ever again, to never be able to speak to you or anytime else? Were they actually going to be able to help me return to normal?

Time seemed to stretch out in an agonizingly slow manner.

My hearing went next, leaving only silence within that darkness.

I held onto the knowledge that you were in the room with the others, and that you would yank my pathetic plush body away should anything happen to go wrong.

The pain soon began, interrupting the usual numbness I had been within. The aches and burning agony began to trickle in, then a fire of sensation rippled across me like lightning.

The sensations like he was being stretched out soon followed.

It was uncomfortable.

After being unable to move for so long, I couldn’t even begin to fight back against such a sensation. As much as I wanted to, I felt too weak to resist the feeling that was returning to my body. Despite how unbearable it was becoming, I would withstand whatever was currently happening to me.

I trusted you.

There wasn’t any way you would let them hurt me. Not after everything we’d gone through to get to where we were now.

All at once, my hearing suddenly snapped back into existence. The voices around me slowly become clearer, until I heard someone saying my name.

Sensation came back to me, as I realized I could suddenly feel my own body. My own non-plush body, feeling utterly exhausted and in pure agony like I had stayed for too long in your world.

…I likely had, if my neck was bleeding as a plush.

Someone said my name again, a hand patting my metal head incessantly.

My…my head.

My television head!

At another thump that rattled my handsome metal head, then my screen flickered on when someone turned the dial on the side of my face.

I let out a simulated gasp while convulsing on what appeared to be a flat cot or gurney. My left arm felt significantly lighter than my right. In fact, my entire body felt very heavy, especially what was left of his human body. I felt like I’d run a marathon, or had been beaten up and tossed down a tall staircase.

Unfortunately, you sewing part of the plush arm onto mine did not save my left arm now that I was no longer in that plush form.

It was missing from the elbow down.

But my metal arms and legs could be fixed now that I was home. I was certain that I had extra pieces in the house at the edge of the showgrounds to make the necessary repairs.

Once I was more lucid and less like I was just staring off into space, I was able to see just how I was able to return back to normal, and they I had, in fact, been taken somewhere else than the place the portal was.

E. Gadd had been a part of the help, along with the Smg’s.

I must have been out of it longer than I’d realized, because as I lie there on what was, in fact, a gurney, I found slowly growing dread within my chest.

Three years, I heard someone say.

Had I really been trapped in that plush for so long?

Struggling to make sense of my rather unnerving experience, I had trouble listening in to all of the voices speaking around me.

I’d been away from you for three years.

And yet, you’d still held out the hope of seeing me again, when you’d believed that I was just on the other sides of the portal.

So much lost time…

I absently tuned back into the voices speaking around me to avoid the unnerving way that my time as a plush had ruined my sense of time for so long. And as I listened to the explanation provided to me, the whole situation was made worse in my mind.

From the gist of it, I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A simple mistake, that had caused so much grief and uncertainty for you, and suffering as well as mental torture for me.

From the sound of it, someone had been aiming for Luigi, who’d been working in his flower shop.

I just so happened to be browsing the selection that was being offered. I’d likely been considering getting you something for one reason or another before everything had gone dark.

King Boo was a name brought up as a likely culprit, or someone working for him, and that Luigi was more than likely the target and I’d just unfortunately gotten got caught in the crossfire.

But it was neither here nor there, since I was back to normal. It wasn’t like I could tell anyone how I’d ended up in your world, anyway; unless someone had thought it a particularly funny idea to send more of my marketable plushies to your world, and I’d just so happened to be tossed in with a box of them.

I’d likely never know.

I would just have to be more aware of my surroundings, out and about, until I could confirm it was an isolated incident.

For right now?

I was just relieved to be in my own body once again, and not trapped within that of a plush’s.

I hummed noncommittally when I heard Smg4 say that he and the others were going to give me some space to get myself back under my own control. I suppose I was rather stiff and felt far more weighty than I ought to have been.

Oh, I was not looking forward to performing maintenance in myself when my motor control properly returned to me. But it was nice to be able to have some privacy to relax and adjust to being able to move again under my own power when before, I was helpless and unable to move at all unless someone moved me.

But the quiet was a double edged sword, as the situation slowly sunk in and the silence reminded too much of what I’d just escaped from.

It was just as well that I was left alone for a time, as emotions began to overflow, right before I broke down, overwhelmed as well as immensely grateful that I was myself again.

You waited (impatiently, really, really impatiently) outside of the laboratory room like professor E. Gadd, Smg4 and the others had asked you to. It took quite some time before you saw anyone, which made you a little nervous for Mr. Puzzles wellbeing.

Would something go wrong?

Would the tv headed man be all right?

Would there be any lasting impacts for Mr. Puzzles by being trapped in the form of a plushie (or was the plush itself)?

Either option had its own horrors that came with it, but with both, you were very concerned about just how aware Mr. Puzzles had been in that state.

Did he remember the whole time, only bits and pieces of it, or would Puzzles just think he’d taken a very long nap?

You weren’t sure if he would tell you, considering he’d likely not want to think about it long-term. He’d kept silent on his past actions with the Smg4 crew for a long time, so this could be something that he either touched on at a much later time, or not at all.

Again, it likely depended on how much Mr. Puzzles remembered his stint as an immobile plush.

The time couldn’t pass quickly enough.

It seemed like hours had gone by before you were finally allowed into the room where Mr. Puzzles was.

You do think a lot of time had passed, but for you, in this world, it was much harder to tell the time without seeing the sun or the moon. And not to mention the physics and such were distorted here for you. One benefit seemed to be not needing to eat as often, while on the other hand you needed a very long, good nights’s sleep to feel refreshed.

The moment you were offered an open doorway into the lab room, you went immediately with quick murmurs of thanks that you’d be sure to voice better later on. Right now, you were just happy to be able to see Mr. Puzzles. You sure hoped that being shaken around like a dog toy didn’t cause him any lasting harm, but since no one told you anything to be concerned for, you hoped he really was fine.

The man was ridiculously durable for someone with a television for a head.

There was always lingering concern that Mr. Puzzles might eventually take too much damage for him to easily recover from.

As you entered the lab, and slowly closed the door behind you, the telltale sound of Mr. Puzzles having a breakdown could be clearly heard. You located Puzzles quickly due to this, and found that he was on a small gurney in the corner of the room. You could see that the man was on his side, partially scrunched up in order to make his tall, lanky frame smaller. Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the only one he currently had, was pressed to his screen, the tear-stained expression of misery visible beneath it.

He hadn’t noticed that you were in the room yet.

Slowly, you approached the gurney, thinking it had to have been uncomfortable for him to lie on it all scrunched up like that.

In the same moment, Puzzles almost immediately curled in on himself further.

“Mr. Puzzles?” You softly called out, coming to a halt alongside the gurney so he could see you.

The man’s left arm twitched at the elbow joint, metal showing with wires sticking out. There were also small cables twisted around one another that allowed for motion, which twitched in your direction. The gloved hand over Puzzles’ screen parted fingers to peek at you between them with a sorrowful digital eye. It was quick to switch to a softer expression, the ‘tears’ remaining as the screen was slowly revealed. A tremulous technicolor smile with digital eyes gave off the impression of immense relief.

Seeing the way his hand dropped self-consciously to his neck with an averted off to the side look, you locate some fabric nearby and offer it to him. You waited for Mr. Puzzles to wrap the fabric one-handed around his wire neck. Seeing him struggle, then pause with a slow tilt of his head, you held out your hands in quiet offer. You allowed Puzzles to gratefully guide your hands to help him secure the fabric around his neck, to help support what remained of his cervical spine.

No words were spoken.

Not even when Mr. Puzzles curled his right hand over yours once you tied the fabric off. His hand slid to twine fingers with yours to give your hand a light squeeze, as if in silent thanks. Once Puzzles let go of you, he didn’t even have to ask you to join him, when the man’s body language was all but screaming for you to come closer. So you carefully crawled onto the gurney, surprised that it held your weight as well as Mr. Puzzles.

It was a different world than yours with its own set of rules, so maybe it held because it was just assumed it would if someone was on it?

That didn’t really matter right now.

You sank into Mr. Puzzles’ side and wrapped an arm just beneath what was left of his left arm. Your grasp tightened as you realized that Puzzles was really back; that he was really here with you.

Mr. Puzzles slid his right arm out from under you to wrap you in a snug embrace in return. He’d uncurled himself enough to let you join him, but had almost instantly curved his tall frame around you. He also held you to his chest in a tight, desperate squeeze of someone who feared the one they held might vanish from right in from of them.

You understood the feeling well as you cling back just as tightly.

Another long silence passed, as the two of you just clung to one another.

“Thank you, for taking such good care of me.” Mr. Puzzles was the first to speak, murmuring softly. His hand pet down along your spine a few times before settling between your shoulder blades. “I’m sorry that you were alone for so long, without me being able to visit you or to speak to you.” There was a short pause, then. “Your roommates and your ‘podcast buddies’. Thwy kept you company?”

It was a big thing for Mr. Puzzles to ask that, and without any of the usual derision or scorn. The man had been initially jealous of the time you spent out of his company, up until the two of you had had a serious heart to heart talk about that behavior when it had begun to go too out of control.

“You were all alone too. I’m sorry that you weren’t found sooner.” You pressed your face into Mr. Puzzles’ chest, listening to the heartbeat beneath. “Being stuck as a plushie had to have been terrifying for you. I’m so glad my coworker found you and passed you on to me. I don’t know what would have happened if you’d remained in that dumpster.”

“…I don’t care to know. The very idea I ended up in one is worrying enough.” Mr. Puzzles murmured overhead, as he absently nuzzled the top of your head with the bottom of his casing.

“Could you hear me talking?” You asked after a moment of enjoying the careful nuzzles.

“I…yes, I could, once you’d restored the plush I was trapped as.” Mr. Puzzles said quietly, after a pointed pause. “It was nice to be able to hear your voice again, even if I couldn’t move or speak in return.”

“I hope you know that I meant everything I said to you.” You told him. “And I very much don’t want to let go of you anytime soon.”

“Oh, my dear, you’ll find that won’t be a problem at all.” Mr. Puzzles’ voice, while exhausted, was quick to take on a low, sultry tone while he leaned closer, and drew you closer, in order to whisper alongside your head. “You see, I do not plan on letting go of you anytime either.”

Your breath nearly left you as the tv headed man clung determinedly to you, even going so far as to hook a leg over yours at the ankles.

“I missed holding you in my arms.” Mr. Puzzles murmured, pressing his metal head in a nuzzle lightly alongside your head. He paused, then, chuckling. “Well, one of my arms, anyway.” A happy static sigh as his fingers pressed down along your back. “I don’t want to let go of you.”

“Then don’t.” You grip the fabric beneath your fingers. “Keep holding me.”

“I won’t let go then.” Mr. Puzzles let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I am holding you.” He stated, as if in disbelief. The tv headed man curled around you as much as he was able, in order to hold you as closely as possible to him. “I most certainly am holding you.” The nuzzling resumed. “I won’t be letting go. You’re trapped here with me.” Mr. Puzzles lightly teased as he traced fingers along your spine.

“Even if 3 and 4 try to kick us out?” You asked dryly, comfortably sagging into Puzzles while you hugged him around the waist just as fiercely, lest he somehow vanish from your sight. “Even Professor E. Gadd, since it’s his lab?”

“Even then.” Mr. Puzzles agreed, languidly stretching the leg over your ankles before settling it back. Then, Puzzles tucked the lower edge of his metal head’s casing over yours. After placing a quick spark of a kiss from his screen to the top of your head he spoke a low growl of a promise. “I won’t be parted from you so easily.”

The two of you didn’t anticipate Mario barging into the lab, though it ought to have been a possibility, considering where Mr. Puzzles and you now were.

Mario came to a halt while watching the close snuggling that was currently occurring on the gurney.

You froze.

Mr. Puzzles let out a static crackling noise.

“That’s-a so nice.” Mario raised a phone, a hint of a smile visible under that mustache even from a distance. “How about Mario help you out?”

A snap of the phone’s camera had Mr. Puzzles lunge up off the gurney, while holding you, and made right for the Italian like he was holding terrible blackmail. Mario no-clipped out of the lab without preamble, leaving Mr. Puzzles to let out a growl of frustration as he got to his feet, and immediately gave chase.

The tv man was unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t let that prevent him from stalking after Mario, or from letting go of you.

Yup.

That was right.

Mr. Puzzles was still holding on to you, and was currently actually carrying you in the crook of one arm. This would make it difficult to catch Mario while Puzzles’ left arm was partially missing, but it seemed that the tv headed man was taking the ‘not letting go of you any time soon’ very seriously.

Mario ‘helping’ turned out to be leading Mr. Puzzles on a merry chase until all three of you reached the showgrounds, and the irateness the Mr. Puzzles held began to dissipate conveniently right near the house you and Puzzles used while spending time with one another in this world. Mario winked at you, and, with a glance at Mr. Puzzles, the plumber continued on his way, whistling his theme song as he went.

You didn’t comprehend for a moment about not having to run to keep pace with Puzzles.

But then it clicked.

Not only did Mr. Puzzles carry you this entire way, but from his screen’s expression, he was considering whether or not to continue to his pursuit of Mario. You were allowed to slide out of the crook of Mr. Puzzles right arm, where he’d held you propped in the crook of his arm and against his chest (with your arm loosely around his neck to hang on).

“Puzzles?” Turning, you witness the way Mr. Puzzles had straightened up, his screen reflecting his annoyed right now. But you gave him a quick once over, and you were now paying more attention to the way the man’s chest rose and fell with false breaths, the tv headed man’s mechanical supported heart working overtime with false lungs.

Oh.

And Mr. Puzzles’ dress shirt had three buttons undone and the whole vest was unbuttoned, which gave you a very nice view of grayed skin around the collarbones.

You’d not noticed the bow tie missing until now, which allowed the sight in the first place.

Ah.

Now you knew what Mario was insinuating.

Giving Mr. Puzzles more one on one time with you, so that he could recover in a quieter location he was more familiar with.

Thoughtful.

But you believed you could get Puzzles to calm down and relax a little more if you happened to tease him.

Just a little.

Reaching out before Mr. Puzzles could make a decision on what to do, you grasped him by the open top of the dress shirt. This did quite a lot in securing a rather intense look from Mr. Puzzles. You gave a tug while taking a step in the direction of the house.

Mr. Puzzles was startlingly quick to follow you, and even kicked the door in, as if unlocking it was going to take much too long. The man did put the door back, sort of, by propping it in place when you’d let go of him.

By the time you reached the bedroom, Mr. Puzzles was already in the doorway.

You ended up with Mr. Puzzles practically plastered agaisnt you, his arm wrapped around you the moment you’d torn the top blanket off the bed in case of dust.

Puzzles chuckled low in his chest over your head, then he fell backward onto the bed with you, catching his metal head on some pillows.

Only to make hacking noises as dust entered one of his vents.

Oops.

You’d not thought about those.

But the coughing gave you enough time to discover another, non-dusty, big blanket in the closet. By the time you got back onto the bed, Mr. Puzzles had recovered, despite his screen showing a sniffling expression. But it quickly flashed to an eager, soft smile when you cuddled into him again, this time on your right side so that Mr. Puzzles could lie on his left to wrap his right arm snugly around you. The blanket was swiftly settled over the two of you before Puzzles placed several lingering, tingly electrical sparks of kisses along your throat and neck. He ended the perusal with a lighter static against your lips before Mr. Puzzles leaned his screen to press to your forehead to for a time.

“I love you, my dear.” Hushed, nearly inaudible, as a heartbeat line with a flush over it appeared on Mr. Puzzles’ screen, digital eyes with hearts in them, and technicolor smile lovey-dovey. “I missed you so much.”

A comfortable silenced then a shy stuttering when Mr. Puzzles realized what he’d just said.

“Love you too.” You cling to the man to prevent him from scrambling out of bed and he defeatedly sagged into you. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not!” Mr. Puzzles’ screen was awash with a deep red heart rate, eyes and a self-conscious smile. “Everyone loves me!”

“I think Smg4 would prove you wrong with a few of his friends.” You playfully swat one of his shoulders. “C’mere.”

Mr. Puzzles indulgently shifted beneath the blanket to allow you to pet either side of his metal head. The uncertainty was still there, but he pressed into your touch regardless.

“What I said before? About meaning everything I said to you when I thought I was just talking to a plushie?” You trailed your fingers down along the sides of the television set, before going to rest near the antenna with one hand, fingers gently rubbing the metal there, which drew out a shiver.

“Y…yes?” Mr. Puzzles groaned softly in response as his metal head leaned to one side to encourage you to keep petting his antenna.

“That also means that even if you don’t say ‘I love you’ out loud, I can still see it in your actions when you’re around me.” You scoot closer across the sheets to reach for the other antenna and Mr. Puzzles all but dropped his head to your shoulder as his right arm tightened around your waist. “You gift me things, you spend time with me, you listen to me when I get going on an idea for my podcast. You stay with me if I’m feeling under the weather, and you’ve gotten so much better at giving me the space to hang out with my other friends.” You pet the antenna lightly, before slowly tracing back down over the vents to rest at the back of Puzzles’ neck. “You trust me to help you when you need it.”

Mr. Puzzles lazily leaned his body into yours to carefully topple you over onto your back as he pressed his tall lanky body around you again. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to.

The joyful noises beneath the static and the man’s renewed interest in bestowing you gentle zaps of kisses was enough to have gotten him into a loving, affectionate mood again.

But Mr. Puzzles was clearly overwhelmed from both turning back to normal from a plushie, his own words, and yours, uncharacteristically quiet but for the wordless vocalizations as he gripped you in a firm embrace under the blanket.

The two of you would stay like that for hours, enjoying one another’s company, until it would become your turn to be given kind words of all you did for Mr. Puzzles once he’d gathered himself together. Sadly, being wooed by your boyfriend’s suddenly low, playful voice as he detailed your actions and gestures toward him would have to wait.

Screaming had begun outside, and from the sound of it, Mario and possibly Smg3 had done something to the carnival rides in the showgrounds that made them run loose all over the place. And one such thing was a bumper car that miraculously (somehow) managed to get into the bedroom of the house.

That was one quick, sure fire way to end the mood.

You did, however, prop yourself up on your elbows and held your head up with your palms to watch as Mr. Puzzles failed miserably in his attempt to shoo the bumper car out of the house.

Not only that, the tv headed man was somehow kidnapped by said bumper car.

Mr. Puzzles pitched forward, head first, into it with a high pitched scream, his legs sticking up annd out. Speechless you watched the bumper car zoom out of the hole in the wall.

When Smg4 checked on you to be sure you’d not gotten hurt, you were laughing while peering out the window of the living room.

Your poor boyfriend was taken for an impromptu, unpleasant joyride around the showgrounds in a runaway bumper car.

Once Mr. Puzzles finally escaped (with help from Tari and Saiko) the tv headed man hobbled back to the house to sulk. He’d even half draped himself dramatically over your lap on the sofa (you’d remained in the living room) while you pat his back consolingly.

This was more like it.

You had missed the crazy antics of Smg4 and his crew, but you’d also missed just spending time with Mr. Puzzles like this.

And now, with the portal back in place, and Mr. Puzzles no longer trapped as a long-limbed plush, the two of you would be able to make up for lost time.

#one shot #smg4 mr puzzles x reader #smg4 mr puzzles #See the tags below the cut for the one shot

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