IDK6123

Traveling around the world of Tellius after the war, life is pretty peaceful, at least compared to dealing with the occasional bandits. With the lead mercenary and his trusty partner being in love, they felt like spending some quality time together in a small village while the rest of the Greil Mercenaries continued working.

During their visit to the village, they encounter a traveling merchant. A witch with her band wagon, pulled by a purple goat. Potions, trinkets, and tomes are on full display. A long row of customers stands in front of her, waiting patiently. While the mercenary has no interest in magical stuff, his boyfriend, a dark sage, is immediately intrigued.

"This witch..." Y/N says, a bit flabbergasted, quickly looking back at his partner. "Ike, she has some of the rarest arcane equipment!"

Ike looks unimpressed by the old woman, who is wearing a big witch hat. She seems to be selling a vulnerary to some villager.

"She looks like a regular street vendor with a funny gimmick."

"To the untrained eye, yes, but I can feel her power." Y/N looks intrigued by her. "Oh, I'm going to spend all my money at her store."

As the dark sage approaches her, Ike doesn't look too happy. "Please don't." He follows him.

The spellcaster patiently waits in line until it's his turn, with the mercenary standing beside him. Slowly but steadily, the line gets shorter and shorter until it's finally the dark sage's turn.

"Hello, sweetie." The old woman greets them with a smile. "My, a dark sage."

Ike looks suspicious. "How did you know he's one?"

The witch chuckles.

"Us masters of witchcraft can recognize each other within a heartbeat."

While Y/N is proud to be recognized, Ike feels like he doesn't understand magic at all.

"Anyhow, how can I help you?" the witch asks, proudly displaying her wares. "We've got plenty of potions, trinkets, and tomes for someone like you."

And thus, a long shopping spree begins. Y/N asks about anything and everything he finds intriguing. Although he's spending a bit too much money for Ike's liking, the sage seems to have thought everything through.

With Ike carrying the shopping bag, Y/N places his purchases inside it. A trinket that rapidly heals, another one that repels evil, and a third that makes animals appear friendlier toward the wearer. Then there are foreign tomes containing spells called Dark Spikes and Hel. Lastly come the potions. Some standard healing potions, one that grants night vision, and another that supposedly allows teleportation.

However, there is one potion that intrigues Y/N the most.

"And what does this one do?"

The witch looks at the potion Y/N is referring to and smiles.

"Ah. The Potion of the Beast. Said to be made in the World of Shadows, created so the drinker may protect their loved ones in times of need."

Y/N looks closer at the potion, then at Ike.

"Sounds like just what you need."

"I don't need some potion to protect you." Ike says bluntly.

"I know, but it doesn't hurt to drink this."

Before Ike can respond, Y/N looks back at the witch with his gold pouch already out.

"I'll buy it."

With a grin on the sage's face, he walks alongside his boyfriend through the town. With a bag full of arcane items, the mercenary hopes his partner made a wise choice buying so much. Even so, seeing Y/N's smile, he can't help but feel a little flustered by it.

-

At the inn, Ike and his partner are in their room. After spending the entire day exploring the town, they're ready to go to sleep. As Ike does his stretches before bed, the sage gushes over everything he bought.

"I'm going to do some real damage against anyone standing against us." Y/N smirks smugly.

"Even the ones you're supposed to befriend, like those 'cute and adorable' animals you mentioned?" Ike questions as he does his sit-ups.

The dark sage looks back at him with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe some cute dog is forced to fight us, but with this, I can befriend them."

Y/N continues looking through what he bought. After a few seconds, he settles on the potion. The Potion of the Beast. Supposedly, it makes whoever drinks it stronger.

With an intrigued smirk directed at the strong man, he speaks up.

"Hey Ike. Still got the potion."

"Not interested."

"C'mon, I bought it for you." The man stands up and walks over to Ike, who awkwardly looks up as he stops exercising. "It's not like it's poisonous or anything."

Ike looks distrustful. "How can you tell...?"

Y/N makes sure to answer the question properly.

"I know a few things about poison. It doesn't smell like one. I tested a couple of drops on a duck and it still looked happy and healthy. And I can tell the witch is honest. She hasn't lied about anything else I bought."

Ike grunts, staring at the potion with doubt. The sage then speaks up again.

"Besides, I love you. You know I don't want you getting hurt or dying."

Ike still looks nervous, but with that argument, maybe he should lighten up. Maybe he should broaden his horizons. Perhaps, besides physical training, he should be more open to magical ways of becoming stronger.

With a huff, he stands up.

"Fine, fine."

Ike grabs the potion from his partner, making him smile. "If something happens, I blame you."

"I know."

Despite the warning, the sage doesn't seem bothered. The mercenary lets out a small sigh before looking back at the potion.

"Well, bottoms up."

With a big gulp, he drinks down the potion. It doesn't take long before he finishes it. Afterwards, Ike looks back at the sage, expecting to feel something.

However, he doesn't feel anything at all.

"Huh..."

"What?"

"I don't feel anything strange." Ike says, somewhat confused. "...Probably for the better."

Y/N hums.

"It could take a while, but if you aren't dying right now, that's a good sign."

"How reassuring." Ike comments sarcastically.

-

The next morning, light creeps in through the curtains and shines on the two sleeping men. With a yawn, the sage slowly opens his eyes as a crack of sunlight hits them. He groans, pulling the sheets closer to himself.

With the blankets on his side suddenly gone, Ike groans and tries to snatch them back, the mercenary dressed only in his boxers.

"Don't hog all of it..."

"You aren't the one sleeping in just your undies... Give me..."

With a strong yank, Ike steals his side back. Not just that—a little more as well. This causes the sage to groan and turn around, preparing to yank the blanket back from him.

"It's your choice to sleep in just your—"

As he turns around and mutters, the sage notices something odd about Ike. His eyes widen and he falls silent.

The merc's ears have changed from regular human ones into something more akin to a bear's, matching his blue hair.

"What in Ashera's name happened to you!?"

Ike flinches at the sudden outburst, looking confused at Y/N.

"What're you talking about?"

"You've got ears like a laguz!"

"Huh?"

Ike instinctively grabs at his ears, only to notice his human ones are missing. Concerned, he moves his hands higher and feels a pair of fluffy ears similar to a laguz's.

Quickly, he jumps out of bed.

As he rushes toward the bedroom mirror, Y/N flinches again when he notices a fluffy, small, puffy bear tail sticking out from Ike's lower back.

It doesn't take long for the mercenary to reach the mirror. His usual stoic expression is replaced with complete shock and confusion as he checks out his ears.

"H-How...!?"

Then he realizes something and looks back at his partner.

"Did that potion do this to me!?"

"I-I..." Y/N isn't sure how to respond. "I-I don't know."

Ike continues checking himself over, looking more angry than surprised. It doesn't take long before he discovers the tail.

"I've got a tail?!"

He reaches back and touches it, causing it to twitch. Frowning, he turns his gaze back toward the sage.

"You know how to fix this mess!?"

"N-No!"

Ike lets out an annoyed gruff. It doesn't take long before he grabs his clothes and starts putting them on.

"We're going to that witch. Now!"

-

With the mercenary rushing around town, he wears a large cloak to cover up his ears and tail. Beside him is his partner, who feels regretful about pushing the potion on him. Still, he's sure the witch can reverse whatever happened to Ike.

However, when they arrive at the supposed shop, the traveling cart is completely gone. The town square looks like a normal one, filled with simple food and clothing stalls. No strange magical shop.

At first, Ike is shocked. Then he starts questioning people about where the witch went. Despite asking more than ten people, all he learns is that she left at midnight, her destination unknown.

As his frustration grows, a sudden realization hits him.

This may be permanent.

Once that thought settles in, he sits down on a bench, his head hanging low.

Feeling incredibly guilty, the sage carefully sits down beside him. A quiet moment settles between them before Y/N finally speaks up.

"I'm sorry I pushed you into drinking it. ...If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have pushed you. ...Hell, I shouldn't have pushed you regardless."

"...It's fine." Ike mutters.

He looks back at Y/N, still unsure how to feel about the situation.

"I know you didn't mean any harm. That witch, though..." He lets out an annoyed sigh. "She could've given us a warning."

Y/N lets out an awkward chuckle. "Yeah..."

Ike scratches his head, accidentally brushing one of his new ears. He quickly pulls his hand back, still not used to them.

"It's not the worst thing in the world..." He pauses. "It's just ears and a tail. Unless I can transform." He thinks about it for a moment before looking curiously at Y/N. "Can I?"

"Maybe?"

Ike closes his eyes and concentrates, wondering if he can somehow transform. However, no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens.

"Huh... Guess not..."

He opens his eyes and looks back at his partner.

"Let's just... move on from this town, alright?"

Y/N softly hums.

"Yes."

-

The forest path is quiet, dappled sunlight breaking through the leaves as Ike and Y/N walk side by side. Birds scatter at their approach; the air smells like pine and damp earth. Ike keeps his cloak pulled high, ears tucked away, tail hidden beneath it—still adjusting, still grumpy.

“You alright?” Y/N asks, his staff resting against his shoulder.

“Fine." Ike replies, eyes scanning the treeline. Old habits don’t die. “Too quiet, though.”

They don’t get much warning.

A twig snaps. Then another. Figures peel out from behind the trees—four of them, rough-looking, blades dull but eager.

“Hand over the bags." One sneers. “And the shiny stick.”

Ike sighs, already moving. “No.”

Steel flashes. Ike draws Ragnell in one smooth motion, his cloak falling back just enough to reveal the twitch of blue-furred ears. Two thieves rush him. He meets them head-on, blade ringing, boots digging into the dirt. Y/N steps back and chants under his breath, dark magic coiling like smoke around his hand.

A spike of shadow slams one attacker into a tree. Another stumbles as Ike shoulder-checks him, his bear instincts lending extra weight to the blow. It’s controlled—measured—just Ike being Ike.

Then someone breaks formation.

A fifth thief—smaller, faster—bursts from the undergrowth behind Y/N, knife raised. Y/N turns too late.

“Ike—!”

The knife comes down.

Something snaps inside Ike.

The world narrows. The sound of blood roaring in his ears drowns everything else out. Heat floods his chest, magic and instinct colliding. He doesn’t think—he moves.

Power surges through him, ripping outward. His spine arches; his shoulders broaden. Fur spills over his arms, thick and dark, his hands swelling into massive, clawed paws that still grip Ragnell by instinct. His face pushes forward, bones shifting, jaw heavy—a bear-like muzzle forming as a growl tears from his throat, low and furious.

The thief freezes.

Ike crosses the distance in a blink, a wall of fur and steel. He slams himself between the blade and Y/N, taking the strike on his arm with a snarl before backhanding the attacker so hard he skids across the forest floor and doesn’t get back up.

The remaining thieves scatter, terror written all over their faces.

Ike stands there, chest heaving, claws digging into the dirt. His head turns slowly, ears flattened, eyes locked on Y/N to make sure he’s whole. Safe.

Only when Y/N steps closer—hands raised, voice steady—does the rage begin to disappear.

“Ike." Y/N says softly. “I’m okay. I’m here.”

The bear exhales, a long, rumbling breath. The fur recedes just enough for him to speak, his voice deeper but unmistakably Ike's.

Y/N reaches out, resting a hand against Ike’s massive forearm, feeling the warmth and tremor beneath it.

“And you saved me.”

Ike looks at him, bear-like eyes gentler now, his tail flicking once behind him.

Then, in a flash of purple light, the mercenary transforms back into his regular human form. Panting heavily, he wonders what just happened.

After leaving the scene behind, they make their way to a nearby lake. There, they sit near the water’s edge. His cloak removed, Ike grabs his partner’s hand as he stares at the water, trying to calm himself. The dark sage sits beside him, gently caressing his hand.

“I’m sorry if I scared you…” Ike says softly.

“It’s fine." Y/N replies honestly. “I’m more shocked than anything else. But your transformation isn’t like that of a normal laguz.”

Ike hums quietly. “I became such a weirdo…” he jokes weakly. He glances at his partner. “When they tried to hurt you, all I could think about was protecting you… and killing them.”

The sage nods. “At least we know what happened to you.”

Ike agrees. “I guess it’s not the worst thing. It just felt…” He pauses with a shrug. “Weird. Like I was incredibly strong, but I couldn’t control myself.”

Y/N moves his hand to Ike’s head, his fingers slipping behind the man’s right ear.

The mercenary’s ear twitches. As the sage continues stroking his hair, the blue-haired man can't help but squirm.

“Stop tickling me…!” With a slight blush, he places a hand over Y/N’s, trying to stop him. “I-It’s sensitive…”

The dark sage chuckles.

“You’re pretty cute.”

“S-Shut up…” Ike groans, his face growing redder.

“You know, I don’t think this change is such a bad thing.” Y/N smiles, his hand moving to his partner’s cheek. “You’re still gorgeous, whether you’re beorc, laguz, or... whatever you are. And you’re still strong—probably even stronger thanks to that bear form.”

On a sunny day, while his husband is working again on the farm, Shane focuses back on his own little chicken coop at the corner of the farm. Although the couple already has an entire barn of them, Shane feels there is a certain satisfaction in taking care of them.

Today, as he feeds the chickens, he notices something odd. Usually, the eggs he gathers will either be sold off, used at home, or gifted to his family. However, today he discovers a strange kind of egg—a blue egg.

Shane, being a chicken enthusiast, of course knows about the rare blue chicken. He took care of them before at Marnie’s place. However, he never encountered a situation where one of the eggs mutated into becoming a blue chicken. And all he had heard about it was that this is a once-in-a-lifetime moment—a miracle.

He quickly makes up his mind. He wants to keep the egg and wants a chick to come out of it. As he gently grabs it, a sudden anxiety hits him. What if he screws up? What if he accidentally drops the egg? What if it gets too cold or too hot?

Feeling like he’s going to mess it up, he takes the egg back home, walking slowly and carefully while doing so. As he gets to the house, he notices his husband harvesting some blueberries.

“Uhm… Y/N?” The farmer looks back, quickly seeing Shane softly holding something. “Can you help me?”

Y/N stands up and walks over. “What’s the problem?” He then looks down, seeing the blue egg. “Is that a blue egg? Is it from Marnie’s?”

“No. It was in the coop.” Shane says, still feeling nervous to the point of sweating a bit. That, and the summer heat isn’t helping. “You know how rare these are, so I want to keep it. I’m just… nervous that I’ll screw it up.”

Y/N hums, looking back at the egg. “We need a place to safely keep it. Like a box or basket or something. Clean straw on the bottom. We can change its position without issue if it needs more warmth or not. It will take a couple of weeks, so when the time comes, we put in some water as well.”

“R-right.” Shane gulps, looking down at the egg. It’s going to take a lot for him to take care of it.

-

Inside the house, in their bedroom, the couple sets up a small nest on their desk. Inside a cardboard box, there is hay on the bottom, creating a soft floor. A heat lamp ensures the egg has enough warmth, while it rests nestled inside the box.

The couple looks down at it. While the farmer looks satisfied, Shane feels concerned. “You sure this is it?”

“Chickens sit on eggs to keep them warm. The lamp will do the job.” Y/N replies. “We just have to check in once in a while to see if everything is okay.”

Shane knows this. He’s lived long enough with Marnie to know how chickens are supposed to be taken care of. And yet, he still feels anxious.

“Shane, you alright?”

Shane looks away, a bit caught off guard. “Uh—yes.”

“You look nervous.” Y/N says. “Trust me. I’ve taken care of plenty of chickens, and so has Marnie.”

“I know, I know…” Shane responds, looking back at the egg.

Y/N can tell that despite the reassurance, Shane is still restless. “Look, it’s a good thing to feel concerned. It shows you care.” He puts an arm around his husband, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Just don’t get sick worrying about it, alright?”

Despite feeling like he might, Shane forces a small smile. “Alright.”

-

One night, Shane has nightmares about what happened in his life—the years he feels were wasted, the opportunities he lost, and the mistakes he made. The last one is the worst: when he got drunk, got angry at his husband, and accidentally stumbled into the box where the egg was kept. The dream ends with him seeing the egg completely shattered, the chick never born.

Waking up, Shane breathes heavily. He quickly looks beside him, seeing the man he loves peacefully asleep. Rubbing his eyes, he looks back at the box on the desk, the heat lamp still shining. The egg should be fine. Even still, Shane wants to check on it.

Wearing just an oversized green gridball jersey and boxers, he makes his way to the nest. All the while, he stretches what he considers his old body, which cracks a bit. It doesn’t take long to arrive at the desk, and he peeks down. The egg appears to be completely fine.

“Thank Yoba…” Shane mutters.

He can still feel his heart beating heavily. There is no way he can sleep now. He knows he needs to calm down and accept that nothing bad has happened and there is no need to panic. Still, if he can’t even take care of an egg, how can he take care of someone young…

Feeling stressed, he decides to get something to eat. He grabs a bag of chips from the kitchen and returns to the bedroom. From there, he sits against the desk and, while looking down at the box, eats the chips.

He doesn’t even realize how long he has been staring at the box, simply processing his dream, until he hears murmurs coming from the bed. There, he hears a groan, as well as his husband shifting and sitting up.

Y/N lets out a yawn as he speaks. “Shane?”

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t want to wake you up.” Shane admits, feeling apologetic.

Sensing something is wrong, Y/N gets out of bed and stands up. “Everything alright?” The farmer still sounds tired.

Shane puts the bag aside, scratching the back of his head as his husband walks over to him. “Couldn’t sleep. Got the nightmare… again.”

Y/N hums, his eyes locking on the chips bag. “Stress eating?”

Shane looks away, only now realizing what he’s doing. Feeling embarrassed, he avoids his husband’s eyes. “Right… sorry.”

“It’s fine. Better than you getting drunk.” Y/N replies, giving him an assuring smile before glancing at the egg. “You really are something, getting worried over an egg.”

Shane remains quiet, and the other man notices.

“Just teasing. You know I like it when you act so soft.”

Y/N gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. This makes Shane smile a bit. He moves over, putting an arm around him as they both look at the egg.

“The chick is going to be fine. But try to focus on yourself as well. The chick is going to need a good human dad to take care of it.” Y/N leans in and speaks softly into his ear. “That means plenty of sleep and lots of hugs from this amazing guy.”

Shane chuckles, looking aside, his face still close to his husband’s. With a soft smile, he leans in to give a quick peck before speaking up. “I still don’t understand why you wanted to be with me.”

“Because you’re a sweet, funny, and handsome guy.” Y/N says with a wink.

Shane playfully scoffs. “More like an old, grumpy, out-of-shape guy.”

“I prefer ‘young enough,’ ‘straightforward,’ and ‘more to love.’”

This makes Shane laugh. “You can spin anything into a good thing.” He lets out a yawn before speaking again. “Fine. Let’s hit the hay.”

-

After that night, Shane felt a lot better. He made sure to accept his husband’s words and not put too much stress on himself. After all, whenever he doesn’t take care of himself, it hurts those he cares about. He already learned this when he was drinking, and to his surprise, he had to learn it again—just in another way.

A couple of weeks passed, and Shane was preparing dinner for himself and the farmer. As he cooks some pepper poppers, he hears something odd. He pauses for a second and focuses on the sound. It sounds like the cracking of something soft. He looks back at the bedroom, wondering if this might be the day.

He quickly turns off the stove and heads to the bedroom. That’s when he reaches the box and sees that it indeed is what he thinks. On the hay, there are eggshells falling apart. The chick appears to be fighting to get out, its head pushing against the shell.

Shane is stunned, simply staring at it as the chick manages to create an opening. With all of its strength, the wet blue chick gets out. Its eyes slowly open and close, experiencing its very first moments of life.

“Shane, I’m home!”

Shane hears his husband entering the house. He simply looks back and finally speaks up.

“The egg has hatched!”

It doesn’t take long before he hears fast footsteps, with the farmer rushing in. He stands next to Shane, looking down to see the small blue chick. The farmer smiles immediately, happy to greet it.

“Hey there, lil’ guy.”

He gently picks the chick up. Looking down, he checks it as it looks back at them curiously. The man softly caresses the newborn.

“It looks like a healthy baby. He’s so cute.” As he smiles, he looks over at Shane, who is smiling as well, though still just staring. “Do you want to hold it?”

Shane is a bit taken aback. He looks unsure at the baby, though he feels reassured by his husband’s smile. “Yes.”

The farmer gently hands the chick over. Shane holds it carefully, sturdy but not rough. Although a bit nervous, he looks happy and satisfied as he stares at it.

The farmer puts his arms around Shane, giving him a gentle squeeze. He looks down at the chick. “Told you the baby was going to be fine. You did well taking care of it.”

“Yeah…” Shane hums. “But now it’s a baby. We still need to take care of it.”

“Be happy you married an amazing farmer. I’ve raised enough chicks from Marnie into healthy chickens.” Y/N says, placing a kiss on his husband’s cheek.

Shane nods. He feels positive about it. Hell, the egg managed to hatch and the chick seems to be fine. Maybe he can truly be someone who deserves to be called a dad?

“We should tell Jas and Marnie about it.” Shane says, remembering the support he received from both of them. “They would love to meet this lil’ guy.”

-

The next day, Jas and Marnie visited the farm. The little girl is playing with the blue chick. They are both at Shane’s chicken coop, with Marnie observing them while caring for the chickens.

All the while, Shane and Y/N are sitting on some lawn chairs next to the house. Both of them are drinking water as they chat and enjoy watching the chick play with Jas.

“Just look how happy they are.” Shane comments, smirking. “We should let her visit more often.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Y/N says, looking back at his husband. “Jas is such a sweetheart. She’s like a little sister.”

Shane would agree, even if he’s the godfather to her. Thinking of that, he reflects on the entire egg situation and his thoughts, realizing something: the fact that he was projecting his fears onto the egg. Taking a big gulp of water, he finally speaks up.

“Y/N… do you ever think about… getting a child?”

Y/N looks a bit surprised. “Oh—uhm—yeah. …You?”

“Yeah, but… I feel like I would be a bad dad.” Shane admits, feeling a bit scared to speak about it. “Like… you know what a mess I am. I feel like I still want beer, and when I can’t, I just eat like crap. And even if you’re alright with me being ‘more to love,’ it isn’t something I’m proud of… I don’t even have a normal job or dreams… I’m just a guy who likes chickens, loves his farmer husband, and loves his godchild and aunt. Nothing much.”

Y/N hums, understanding him. “I get it. And I understand if you’re scared of having one, but you’re not alone. You’ve got me. We’ll raise them together. And if it means anything, I think you did great with the egg—and you’re going to be great raising the chick.”

Shane hums, then responds with a small smirk. “Stress eating aside?”

“Just means you’re getting a dad bod. Means you’re a great dad.” Y/N jokes.

“You’re using ‘getting’ very generously.” Shane chuckles, smiling warmly. “You really think I would be a great dad?”

“Yes. It will be rough, sure, but a great one. You get into it just like you got into raising chickens.”

At school, Y/N stood on the roof, looking out over the city. His mind was still caught up in his dream as he drank his Hey-C, waiting for his friend to arrive. Then, the door opened.

“Yo, Y/N-kun.” The transfer student turned to see Nenji Ogata walking toward him. “What’s up? You look pretty messed up, man.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Right… you know Amiguchi-kun has these weird dreams, like they’re almost real?”

Nenji looked curious. “What about it?”

“I’ve been having them too.” Y/N clarified. “One really, really weird one…”

Judging by how strange Y/N was acting, Nenji looked both concerned and intrigued. “Yeah, I heard Amiguchi-kun started this club with Kurabe and Fuyusaka where they talk about their weird dreams.”

“I know, but this one has you in it…”

Nenji raised an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it.”

-

2188, inside the space colony, Nenji Ogata is reviewing files on a holographic display. As he scrolls through them, the door opens. A man steps in, around the same age as him.

“President Ogata, I heard the news from Minami-san. You must reconsider.”

Nenji looks back at him. “I had a feeling she reached out to you.”

“This isn’t about a favor from a friend. This is about saving humanity.” the man argues.

“This is mere paranoia.” Nenji replies, calm and calculated. “Throughout history, humanity has been challenged and overcome it. This will be no different.”

The other man looks somber. “I don’t understand. There is evidence supporting that Project Ark will save humanity. We have the technology, and we will develop it further. Is money such an issue that you can’t even fund this project?”

Nenji lets out a tired sigh, his patience wearing thin. “You know damn well our situation.”

The other man looks down, disappointed.

“All I can offer is advice.” Nenji continues. “Watch your back, trust no one, and keep working on the project until you see it fall apart.”

The man folds his arms, visibly anxious. “Nenji… I’m going to be honest. I feel like our lives are reaching their end.”

Nenji walks over and places a hand on his shoulder. “I understand your anxiety. However, I’ve covered all our weak spots. When Plan A fails, there is Plan B. If that fails, there is Plan C. And it continues on and on.”

“I should’ve known you were aware of the consequences.” the scientist says, stepping back as Nenji lets him go. “Then I won’t distract you any longer. I’ll return to the lab.”

As the scientist turns to leave, Nenji speaks again. “Wait, Y/N.”

The man stops and looks back.

“Keep me informed about the project and the team. And remember my advice.”

“…I will.” Without another word, Y/N walks away.

-

Nenji looked confused, yet slightly flustered by what his classmate had said. Meanwhile, Y/N continued thinking about the dream.

“Really? Me being the big scary CEO of Shikishima Industries?” Nenji scoffed. “A-and what’s with the hugging? Is this your weird way of coming out or something?”

Y/N’s face turned red. “Dude, do I look like I know what the hell the dream is about?” He scratched his head. “But it really felt like something else. Not like a regular dream, but… I dunno…”

Nenji began to calm down. “Look, dude, I think you’re in the same boat as Kurabe and Amiguchi. You people watch too many sci-fi movies.”

“You think…?” Y/N asked uncertainly.

“Definitely. You think this is some kind of sign of the future or something?”

“No…” Y/N hesitated. Thinking about it, something felt off about that idea. Sign of the future.

“I’m gonna grab some lunch. I think that weird yakisoba pan guy is hoarding the stuff again.” Nenji turned around and headed for the exit.

As Y/N followed his friend, he kept thinking about it. Sign of the future. It certainly felt like it… and yet it didn’t. If anything, it felt more like a sign of the past.

-

2188, back at the space colony. Professor Ogata received a message from his husband, asking him to meet at his office far away from the rest of the personnel. Once he entered the room, the two men spoke.

“You sounded concerned.” Y/N pointed out, anxiety in his voice. “What happened?”

“It’s about what is going to happen.” President Ogata replied. “It’s about Sekigahara.”

“What about him?”

“He was tasked by President Gouto to kill Professor Morimura.”

The professor looked shocked. “Excuse me?!”

“She was found guilty of selling nanomachines on the black market, all to secure funding for Project Ark.” Nenji clarified, as his partner looked horrified. “I’m aware of what Sekigahara is going to do, and I brought you here for safety.”

“Shit…” Y/N quickly tried to call Professor Morimura, only for Nenji to step forward and grab his arm.

“Don’t.” Ogata warned. “It’s too late.”

“And you could’ve prevented it!” Y/N stepped back, anger rising. “We have barely anyone left! This isn’t the time for vengeance or justice! We need to focus all of our efforts on Project Ark!”

“Morimura is smart enough to know her life is at risk. The other professors will continue where she left off.”

Y/N scowled, clearly not satisfied with the justification. “What happened to you…? You used to protect everyone, no matter what. And now you’re nothing but corporate scum.”

Nenji didn’t even flinch at the insult.

“I hope our new lives will be better than the ones we have now.” he said quietly. “Because right now, I’d rather spend whatever days we have left with people who matter.”

As the professor stormed off, the CEO looked exhausted. With a deep, tired sigh, he pressed his fingers to his temple.

“Y/N… if only you knew how much I did this for you…”

-

The next day, with bags under his eyes, the transfer student couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. The first dream he could dismiss as coincidence. The second, however, was becoming concerning.

As he walked through the hallway, he didn’t even notice who he bumped into, lost in thought.

“Huh?” The school nurse said, turning around in surprise.

Y/N stepped back, recognizing her. Morimura looked at him with concern.

“You alright, Y/N? You look tired.”

Y/N glanced up at her weakly. “Sorry… I couldn’t sleep.”

“What happened? Maybe I can help.”

The teen hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I had these weird dreams. One takes place in a space colony. I was some kind of professor, Ogata-kun was the CEO of Shikishima Industries… and you were there too.”

“I was?” she asked, curious.

“Yes…” Y/N looked exhausted, rubbing his eyes. “You were going to get assassinated.” The woman looked slightly shocked, though she remained composed. “By a man named Sekigahara.”

Ms. Morimura stayed quiet for a few seconds before speaking. “Sounds like a wild dream. That happens often with boys your age. Still, I can tell it’s been eating at you. If you want to take a nap in the nurse’s office, you’re free to do so.”

Y/N let out a soft yawn. “…Thank you.”

As he walked past her, she turned slightly. “You’ll be okay getting there? I can take you if you want.”

“I’ll be fine… thank you.”

And with that, he walked away.

-

Arriving at the nurse’s office, Y/N spotted a boy at the desk. He looked about his age—blonde hair, stoic expression. Strangely enough, the transfer student didn’t recognize him.

The boy casually grabbed a bottle of pills from the desk, then turned and walked away.

He gave Y/N a brief, polite nod as he passed.

Y/N watched him leave, then made his way toward the bed. That’s when he noticed a file on the desk.

Curious, he walked over and picked it up.

Computable Boys.

The tired teen quickly looked around. The boy who had just left must’ve been reading it and hadn’t had time to put it back—unless he simply didn’t care about being caught.

Still wondering what it meant, Y/N opened the file.

There were names he recognized: Shu Amiguchi, a guy named Juro Izumi, Nenji Ogata… even his own name.

And just before he could reach his own file, another name caught his eye: Ei Sekigahara.

“What the hell…?”

The assassin.

Without hesitation, Y/N flipped to the file and saw a photo of the man who had just been there. He couldn’t even read the details anymore—he just stared at the image.

That was him. The one who was supposed to kill Ms. Morimura.

Instinct kicking in before thought, Y/N snapped the file shut, shoved it back onto the desk, and turned around.

Then he ran out of the office.

-

At the school’s walkway, Y/N saw Sekigahara walking ahead. Without hesitation, he stormed toward him.

Someone noticed him immediately.

“Hey Y/N, wanna chill after—?” Nenji called out, confused, as Y/N rushed past him. “Yo, Y/N! I’m right here—”

But Y/N didn’t respond.

He grabbed Sekigahara by the shoulder and forced him to turn around. The loner looked surprised, quickly slapping the other teen’s arm away.

“What do you—?”

“I know you’re going to kill Ms. Morimura.” Y/N said firmly, without hesitation.

Although Sekigahara tried to remain stoic, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. That small reaction was all Y/N needed.

Nenji, now catching up, stood beside his friend. “You alright, Y/N? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Sekigahara retorted. “What makes you think I’m going to kill her?”

“Because you were hired to.” Y/N replied with confidence. “And I know who and why.”

Sekigahara’s eyes widened slightly. “You know…?”

Nenji looked completely lost. “Can someone explain what the hell is going on?”

“I know exactly who you are.” Y/N said, gritting his teeth. “I know the jobs you’ve done. A man with no morals—perfect to be made into an assassin. And even when humanity is dying, you still went through with it.”

Sekigahara looked genuinely confused now. “Who told you these lies?”

“I know… I know what happened.” Without warning, Y/N threw a punch at him.

“Y/N!” Nenji shouted in shock.

Sekigahara blocked the second strike quickly, countering with a punch of his own that hit Y/N in the face. He followed it by grabbing Y/N’s arm and forcing him down onto the ground, making the transfer student yelp in pain.

Nenji, now furious, clenched his fists. “You picked the wrong guy to mess with…!”

And just as the tension peaked and the fight was about to escalate, Y/N’s eyes slowly closed.

Finally… he could sleep.

-

2188, back at the space colony, Professor Y/N stood at the observation deck, looking down. His face was completely empty. On his lap, a tired little girl slept, while he gently caressed her hair.

Then President Ogata walked in, moving further into the room. He didn’t even glance at the view of the cosmos. Instead, his attention went straight to his husband sitting on the couch.

“You look exhausted.”

The professor didn’t turn away. “Izumi died this morning.”

Ogata slowly walked over and sat beside him. Five people were left: him, his husband, Ryoko Shinonome, Tetsuya Ida, and the innocent girl, Megumi Yakushiji. The last remnants of humanity.

“…He gave me one request—no, one favor.” Y/N said quietly. “To look after Megumi and stay by her side until the end.” He placed a hand on the girl’s head. “I’m doing my best to keep the fever down, but it’s only a matter of time before she passes… and I only wish it will be in peace.”

Ogata grimaced. “You would’ve been an amazing father. Perhaps those in Project Ark will have better luck.”

Y/N only looked at the dying girl, continuing to stroke her hair. “Professor Shinonome is beyond devastated. I spoke with her. The only thing she feels is despair. ‘Humanity deserves to die off.’ That’s what she said. And while I think that’s an overreaction…” He paused, still staring at the child. “I understand where she’s coming from.”

“Y/N…” Nenji looked distraught. “I… should’ve listened to your warnings. Your pleas. Maybe then—”

“I don’t think it would’ve mattered.” Y/N interrupted. “I think this was destined to happen.”

Nenji quietly wrapped an arm around his husband as they both looked out the window. “I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N remained silent, avoiding his gaze. “I loved the man you used to be…”

“I understand.” Nenji admitted. “I don’t blame you.”

Y/N still looked exhausted, lost in thought. “Ogata… is this your true self? Or did the circumstances change you?”

“I like to believe that with everything that’s happened, I changed for the worse.” Ogata admitted.

Y/N pondered this for a moment. “I hope so.”

Ogata looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

The professor hesitated before speaking. “My clone will be updating his memories with mine.” Ogata looked shocked. “I’m not ready to die. And I wish to be reborn as someone who has more chances in life than I was granted.”

“Y/N…” Ogata didn’t know what to say. “Do you hate me that much? To want to be with someone else who only shares my name and appearance?”

“Correct.” Y/N said. “Mostly. I will spend my days with the Nenji Ogata I used to know. Not the one who brought humanity to its destruction.”

Nenji looked somber, no longer looking at his husband. Instead, he stared out of the window, wondering what would become of Project Ark.

-

Waking up in the nurse’s office, Y/N murmurs softly as he begins to sit up. Right beside him, leaning on a chair, Nenji looks up from the magazine he’s reading. With relief, he quickly throws it aside.

“Y/N, you alright?”

As Y/N sits up, he feels pain coming from his face. He grabs it, wincing. “It hurts…”

“No shit. That’s what happens when you start fights.” Ogata comments, sounding impressed. “And here I thought you were the kind to avoid confrontation, but I guess I’m rubbing off on you.”

Y/N looks back at Nenji. His face is familiar. He shares it with the man in the space colony—the one he sat right beside. Not just his face, but his voice. Everything except his attitude.

“Now, what’s this about him being an assassin?” Nenji wonders. “Ms. Morimura is still alive and kicking. No one has died. Is this some kind of psychosis you’ve got or somethin’?”

Y/N stares at him. “I remember… I remember what happened.”

Ogata looks beyond confused. “What happened?”

“To us.” Y/N says, causing the teen to look even more confused. “About what happened to humanity. You, me, Professor Morimura, Shinonome, Ida, Izuru, Megumi, everyone.”

“Stop being so vague!” Ogata demands. “Is this another one of your weird dreams? What happened?”

“You were my husband.”

By how bluntly Y/N says it, Nenji blushes. “W-W-What!? We were married!?”

“Yes, but you were completely different. Instead of this caring and brave guy, you were a corporate scumbag that let humanity die.”

Nenji is processing the amount of information he’s receiving. “C-Can you stop dropping all this like it’s nothing!?”

“Nenji… I’m glad you didn’t turn into the man I used to know.” Ogata only blushes at the comment. “And I don’t want you to become someone so cold. I want you to stay the way you are.”

“D-Do you?” Nenji stammers, looking away.

Y/N slowly gets off the bed, and Nenji stands up as well. “I understand you’re confused right now, but… we should go out.”

Nenji’s face gets even redder. “L-Like a date?”

“Yes.” Y/N answers casually, causing Nenji to become further flustered. “Then I will explain everything about us.”

“Shit, Y/N…” Nenji sighs, looking away. “You’re such a weirdo. But…” He lets out a small groan. “Fine. But no fucking word to anyone about this!”

Y/N nods. “This will be between us.”

V has been working dirty jobs for a long while now—whether taking on gigs from brokers, tasks from random people on the street, or jobs from a big gangster. Today, however, is something special. A major corpo requested help from an independent edgerunner and got in contact with V.

With the eddies being very generous, it must be extremely important—and dangerous. V heads to the building where the big corpo works: Lumenex Industries, the biggest media company in Night City. They handle everything from identity control and manipulating the population, to politics and mass surveillance. They have plenty of friends, as well as enemies.

Upon arriving at the office, V meets Alastar Kingsly, the proud CEO of Lumenex Industries. With an uneasy yet kind smile, he seems eager to meet V.

“It’s good to see you face to face.”

“Nice to meet you too.” V sits down in front of his desk, his voice hoarse as usual. “And with the amount of eddies on the line, I expect a proper description of the job.”

“Straight to the point. I like it.” Alastar chuckles. He crosses his legs and folds his hands, looking serious. “But before I explain, you must know something. I know your reputation well. You don’t fuck around. You do what you’re told, without being a lapdog about it. Still, I must warn you: if you cross me, a lot of dangerous people might get information—true or not—about you.”

V is a bit amused by the preemptive threat. “Perhaps lay off the death threats before I even know what the hell I’m supposed to do.”

Alastar softens slightly, though tension is still clear. “You can imagine my job and status can be… problematic. A lot of people want my head. Luckily, I have top security. Unfortunately, they’ve switched strategies. They’re now going after my son, Y/N.”

The CEO stands up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. As he smokes, he looks out the window at the city below. “The past few months, they’ve tried over a hundred times to kidnap my son. The first attempts were all failures, of course. But they adapt. Three days ago, they infiltrated my security company to get to him. If it weren’t for the fact that he had a knife in his pocket, he would’ve been kidnapped.”

“Sounds like a massive breach.” V comments, already guessing where this is going. “And you think an edgerunner is better suited to be a bodyguard?”

Taking a long drag, the father looks back at V. “You’re smart enough not to mess with the scum that goes against me, my son, or this company. Especially with what’s at stake. Besides, you’re competent enough to be a bodyguard.”

“So what are we talking about? 24/7 babysitting him?”

“He’s 23.” the CEO corrects him, clearly not happy. “And yes, we’re talking 24/7. Your payment cover food costs. For now, you will watch over him for a week. If you do well, I’m happy to extend the contract. And to be clear, you have to be with him 24/7. Unless one of you is taking a shit or something, you stay at his side. No matter what. Sounds like a deal?”

V smiles. “So all I have to do is watch someone while staying at a mansion and get paid a crap ton? Deal.”

-

Arriving at the Arasaka estate, V quickly spots a massive mansion. Inside, the building houses rooms for everything: a movie theater, an indoor pool, a shooting range, a glass garden, and much more. Still, the house feels eerily empty. The latest security systems cover the entire building—cameras, turrets, and even deadlier measures—making it feel more like a fortress than a home.

Entering, V expects Y/N to meet him at the doorstep or in the entrance hall. Instead, he is greeted by dead silence, only interrupted by the sound of gunfire. From a video game.

V walks further inside, weapons holstered, entering the massive open living room that connects to the kitchen and stairs leading to the second floor. In the kitchen, a large island dominates the space. Fridges are stocked with food, and a medical kit sits nearby. At the same time, V spots the man immersed in his game.

“Y/N Kingsly.”

The man pauses his shooting game, turns his head, and looks at him. “You’re V?”

“Yes.” V says. “Then you already know why I’m here.” He steps into the living room, glancing around with curiosity. “You probably already know this, but if you notice anything off, go to me. No matter what.”

“’Kay.” The apathetic man turns back to the TV and resumes his game.

From that answer alone, V can tell Y/N is used to this—way too used to this. “So much for a conversation…”

-

It’s noon, the second day. The first day had gone as peacefully as the current one—no assassination attempts, no suspicious activity. That being said, the house is far from boring. With so many facilities, there’s always something to do. And yet, the only people there are V and Y/N. It feels hollow and lonely.

In the gym, Y/N has just finished lifting weights. V, running on the treadmill, slows down as he sees the man preparing to stop. Both are drenched in sweat, their sweats sticking to their bodies.

“Dinner time?” V asks.

“Yeah. Making steak chili.”

V hums. Unlike most people in Night City, Y/N seems to cook his own meals instead of ordering fast food. And for a rare change of pace, V will be eating something proper instead of Chinese takeout.

Curious how good the food will be today, V walks with Y/N to the kitchen. He offers to help with the cooking, though he isn’t exactly sure what he’s doing. Sure, he’s used a microwave before, but not an oven. Still, he helps out, mostly by grabbing things Y/N needs.

When it’s time to pour his own share of chili, V grabs the pan without realizing how hot it is. He slips slightly, quickly pulling his left hand back. The chili spills onto his sweaty shirt despite holding the pan with his right hand.

“Fuck! Damnit!” V quickly sets the pot down, frowning at his shirt.

“You sure you’re the one to watch me?” Y/N says, sounding a bit snarky.

V glances back, accepting it as a small tease. “Only in the kitchen.” He grimaces at his sticky shirt. “Right… I’m gonna change my shirt.”

After getting to the sleek guest room, V quickly throws his shirt into the corner and changes into a fresh t-shirt. He’s fast to return to the kitchen, where Y/N has already set up plates at the dinner table.

On the opposite side of the CEO’s son is V’s plate, not properly set up. Meanwhile, Y/N is already eating as he watches V walk in.

“You looked better with a chili-stained shirt.”

“Many prefer me shirtless, but whatever gets you going.” V dryly replies, sitting down.

Grabbing a fork, he inspects the food. It looks pretty good—nice brown texture, smells natural despite probably being processed. Just as V is about to take a bite, the man across from him begins to cough.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine—” Y/N continues coughing, the sound harsher this time.

As Y/N grabs his throat with his right hand, V quickly realizes what’s happening. The assassins outsmarted them—they poisoned the delivered food. V immediately uses his Kiroshi Optics to analyze the situation.

With the Optics, he identifies a Synthetic Neurotoxin called Blueglass: a slow-acting neurotoxin designed to mimic food poisoning at first. It causes throat constriction, coughing, shortness of breath, tremors, and a panic response. Hard to detect without cyberware, it keeps victims alive long enough for interrogation or ransom if caught early. V’s scan flags abnormal synaptic interference and irregular oxygen uptake.

Hastily, V grabs the medical kit next to the fridge, knowing from Alastar that poison incidents have occurred before—though none were successful enough to have widespread cures. He yanks the kit off the wall and drops it onto the kitchen island. Inside are vials, an injection gun, and bandages.

As Y/N coughs violently, V quickly searches the vials, organized alphabetically, until he finds the correct one. He loads it into the injection gun and runs to Y/N, who’s beginning to go pale. Grabbing his neck, V injects the cure. Instantly, Y/N pants, struggling for air.

V wraps a free hand around him and gently guides him to the couch. “You’re not going to die. Breathe in and out. Easy.”

Even so, Y/N continues gasping. V manages to get him comfortable on the couch, sitting next to him while scanning the living room to ensure no one is watching. He guesses the assassins don’t need to observe—if the attempt failed, they likely don’t care yet.

After a minute, Y/N breathes more steadily. V looks at him with concern. “You alright?”

“I’m fine…” Y/N responds apathetically.

“You’re pretty casual about almost dying.” V comments.

Y/N looks aside. “Might as well be. Not like it’s special to almost die.”

V frowns, the comment hitting him wrong. It reminds him of his best friend, Jackie—whose life he once took for granted, ending tragically. To hear someone so casual about dying feels morbid.

It dawns on V why Y/N’s life is constantly in danger—not just because of security lapses, but because assassins always know his location. Being stuck in the mansion guarantees they can find him. The only way he’ll be safer is to be somewhere else entirely.

With a plan in mind, V speaks up. “You want to sleep over at my place?”

Y/N gives him a confused look.

-

With a plan set in motion, V waits for one of his contacts to show up. Hearing a buzz at the gate, he checks the monitor. It’s the pizza delivery driver and his car. V opens the gate, allowing him to pass.

The car drives in, arriving at the mansion. The driver gets out, heads to the back, and opens the trunk to grab two pizza boxes. Holding them, he leaves the trunk open and walks to the front door. V opens it and gives a quick nod and smile to his friend.

“Make it quick.” the driver mutters.

V grabs the pizzas and sets them aside, giving the driver another nod. With a kick of his leg, he closes the door. At that moment, V activates his Sandevistan, speeding through the side entrance while engaging his cloaking tech to become invisible.

As the driver is about to close the trunk, V slips inside gently. When the driver shuts it, the Edgerunner reveals himself. Y/N also reveals himself, still in his gym clothes. Their faces are close, almost nose to nose.

V notices a small grin on Y/N’s face. “What are you smirking for?”

“For a bodyguard, you sure disobeyed the order to stay in the house.” Y/N teases.

“Kingsly said to keep you alive. That’s what I’m doing.” V replies, causing Y/N to grin wider.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Just happy I’m finally leaving that prison.” Y/N says, sounding more alive than he has in a long time. “Makes me feel like the teenager I was supposed to be.”

V chuckles. “Well, sit tight. It’s going to take a while before we get to my place.”

-

Arriving at Megabuilding H10, both men jump out of the trunk. While V thanks and pays the driver, Y/N is amazed at how different the city looks. Afterward, the mercenary taps the other man and nods for him to follow.

After about three minutes, they reach V’s apartment. Y/N looks around, clearly taking everything in, and V is amused by his reaction to how isolated the place is.

“This place looks like shit.” Y/N comments, noticing a corner piled with trash yet to be taken out.

“Gee, thanks.” V mutters, dryly.

Y/N’s eyes suddenly light up. “You got an iguana!?” With enthusiasm, he walks over and gently pats the reptile. It seems to enjoy the attention.

“Yep. Just don’t ask me how I got it.” V says with a proud grin. “Got a cat too.”

“Wait, you do?” Y/N turns around excitedly and spots the naked cat staring at him from a corner. “Aww, what a cutie!”

He crouches down, letting the cat sniff at him. “I always wanted pets, but my father always complained the house would get dirty.”

V leans casually against the wall beside his bed. “And here I thought your dad was the kind of guy who buys your affection.”

“Oh, he definitely is. But out of all things, he never allowed me to have pets.” Y/N says, sounding a bit somber despite smiling as he pats the cat.

V glances out the window at the city night. Even from here, the view looks gorgeous.

“Take a shower. You still smell of sweat… and almost dying.” the mercenary says with a grin.

Y/N stands up. “Got any spare clothes?”

“Plenty.” V replies, stepping back and nodding toward the bathroom. “And don’t worry about getting assassinated. That mansion was a death trap. They’ll never figure out you’re here. Out here, it’s a free-for-all.”

“Then I better stay right by your side.” Y/N smirks as he heads to the bathroom. V watches him go, grinning to himself.

-

After a few minutes of clearing his mind in the shower, Y/N turns it off and grabs a towel. He dries himself briefly, then wraps the towel around his waist before stepping out. There, he sees V walking toward the couch, holding a bag of Chinese takeout. The mercenary turns, giving a quick smile.

“Ready for takeout?”

Y/N, who’s never eaten takeout before, perks up with excitement. He spots some spare clothes on V’s desk. “Just give me a minute to change.”

“You can always go naked.” V comments dryly. Y/N glances back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Just sayin’.”

Although he wonders whether V is kidding or flirting, he shrugs it off. “I’m not that easy to mess with.”

V chuckles as Y/N heads to the bathroom to change. After a minute, he walks back in wearing sweatpants and a simple T-shirt instead of his preppy outfit. V sets a cup of noodles on the table, waiting for Y/N to sit, and grabs a cup for himself.

“First time eating takeout, right?”

“Fancy dining’s for the rich, so yeah.” Y/N says, sitting next to V and grabbing his chopsticks and cup. “You do this every day, huh?”

“Pretty much. Quick, easy, cheap.” V replies, slurping down his noodles.

Y/N does the same. While it’s not gourmet, it has its charm—it’s still delicious.

As Y/N continues eating, V notices how much he’s enjoying it. “Like it?”

“A lot.” Y/N replies, swallowing a mouthful of noodles. He looks around the apartment. “This place is fucking small.”

V chuckles. “Tell me about it.”

“I like it. It’s cozy.” Y/N says, smiling as he watches the cat jump onto the desk. “Kinda weird… this place feels safer than my home.”

“It’s going to be a tough sell to tell your dad about this.” V says. “But I’m sure I can convince him.”

Y/N looks at him curiously. “Yeah, but only for a week.”

“Or more.” V says with a smirk. “Could use the company.”

The two stare at each other for a moment before returning to their food, enjoying it together. Despite having explored most of the apartment, Y/N is still excited by its simple charm and cozy feel.

-

That night, Y/N brushed his teeth with a cheaply bought toothbrush before collapsing onto the bed. A faint light glowed in the background as V walked over. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, wearing just his boxers, leaning against the wall.

“Gonna sleep well?” V asked.

“Hope so… I mean, thinking about it, this place could be broken into anytime.” Y/N said, looking around anxiously.

V noticed that the initial excitement had worn off and reality was settling in for Y/N. He knew he needed to step up to make him feel safe. “If you want, I can sleep next to you. Might help you feel more comfortable.”

Y/N smiled softly. “To make me feel safe… or because you think I’m hot?”

V already knew the answer. “Both.”

Y/N chuckled and pushed himself to the other side of the bed, slipping under the blankets. V happily joined him, lying down beside him. With a yawn, he wrapped an arm around Y/N. Despite finding it a bit cliché, Y/N leaned in, snuggling close.

“Night, Y/N. This bodyguard of yours will make sure to watch over you.”

Y/N softly hummed. “You better, or I’ll tell my dad to get a better one.”

Today could be the worst day of his life. The day he could possibly be fired from SDN. Someone from the Phoenix Program was going to get cut, and it was definitely going to be someone from the leaderboard. And although Y/N, also known as Nova, was around the middle of the leaderboard, today just wasn’t his day.

The stress got to him. He made mistake after mistake, and it all snowballed. It didn’t help that his supposed teammates kept sabotaging each other—and him too—making his performance even weaker.

And to top it all off, when Y/N came to the locker room to change, he overheard Flambae and Punch Up talking, and his name was quickly mentioned.

“Didn’t Nova finish even one of the missions?” From behind the wall, he heard Punch Up speaking. “He’s definitely getting cut. No question. Kinda feel sorry for him.”

“Yeah. Too bad, since he’s pretty competent too. At least compared to most of the team.” Flambae commented, closing his locker as he and Punch Up walked away.

Feeling like his worst fear had come true, Y/N crumbled a little. Clenching his fists, he began breathing faster. Without thinking, he grabbed his headset and played whatever songs were on his playlist. Desperately, he held the headset against his ears, trying to block the thoughts out of his head.

Sitting on the floor and hugging his legs, he just hoped he could escape the reality he was in. Anything to avoid failing again.

He didn’t even realize how long he had been like that until someone suddenly yanked off his headset.

Y/N quickly looked up, his entire face red with shock. It was Robert, looking concerned.

“Are you alright?”

That was when Y/N realized his throat felt completely dry from his rapid breathing. Instead of answering, he simply shook his head, causing Robert to hum gently. He then sat down next to him, trying to appear more reassuring.

“You were scared about being cut, huh?”

Y/N remained quiet, still looking afraid. Robert gave him a supportive tap on the shoulder.

“It’s alright. It wasn’t you.”

Y/N looked surprised. “…It isn’t?”

“No.” Robert gave him a quick supportive smile, though it quickly faded. “It was between you and Invisigal. …And I chose Invisigal.”

Y/N was still shocked that he hadn’t been cut. But even though he wanted to feel relieved, he couldn’t help thinking about how close it had been.

“Why didn’t you choose me?” he asked quietly.

Robert seemed a bit taken aback by how depressed Y/N sounded.

“I thought about it a lot. And the more I thought about cutting you, the more it felt wrong. You’re one of the only people here who’s actually nice to me and listens to me. I compared your performance today with your previous ones, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for you. You cracked under pressure, and yeah, that isn’t a good thing, but I don’t think that’s a reason to cut you.”

Y/N looked into Robert’s eyes, still appearing exhausted and messy. Robert felt like he needed to encourage him a bit more.

“Feeling like you’ve disappointed yourself and others sucks, doesn’t it?”

The other man slowly nodded.

“I get it. I’ve been there too.”

Y/N looked curious, but Robert looked a little hesitant.

“Alright, I’m going to say something I’m not really supposed to say, so promise me you’ll keep it a secret, okay?”

“I promise.” Y/N said softly.

“Alright… well, you know who Mecha-Man is, right?”

Y/N nodded in response.

Robert continued. “You’re looking at him.”

The superhero looked shocked. “You’re serious…!?”

“Yeah…” Robert awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Then you probably know all about the mess that happened.”

“How did you even end up here?” Y/N asked.

“I got offered a job. They’re supposed to help me rebuild my suit. In return, I help you bastards become better heroes.” Robert explained. “But back to the point—the entire media smeared me as a failure. And I felt like shit for months. So what I’m trying to say is… I get where you’re coming from.”

He spoke with sincerity, which made Y/N feel a little better.

“And I learned something when I was at rock bottom: there’s no shame in climbing back out with the help of others. And it looks like you might need a little help climbing out.”

Y/N stared at him as Robert took a breath before continuing.

“Let’s work out together. Think of it as getting back into shape. Deal?”

He offered the hero a fist bump.

Feeling like someone finally understood him, Y/N bumped his fist back, finally feeling some relief after such a long day.

-

It’s been a week since their conversation, and every workday they work out for an hour right before work starts. Since the threat of somebody getting cut isn’t there anymore, Y/N feels a bit more at ease. Though despite the two working out together, most of their conversations remain one-off remarks and casual small talk. Robert can definitely tell that Y/N is more introverted than most of the team.

One day, after a long workout, they take a break. With their water bottles in hand, they sit on a bench and take a few sips. With a huff, Robert looks over at the superhero.

“You look a lot better.” Robert then realizes how wrong that sounds. “Not in a sweaty workout kind of way, but… you seem less tense.”

Y/N hums. “Helps that I’m not on the chopping block anymore.”

Robert hums and takes another quick sip from his bottle. That’s when Y/N suddenly speaks up.

“You never said why you fired Invisigal.”

The brunette nearly chokes on his water before looking at the hero in surprise. “Why the sudden interest?”

Y/N shrugs. “Can’t help but think about it. That… I’m the one who remained… and she isn’t.”

Robert raises an eyebrow. “You feel guilty about it?”

Y/N stays quiet.

“Because she’s her own person.” Robert continues. “She’s responsible for the choices she makes, just like you are for yours. Just because you made the cut doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”

Y/N hums quietly, still unsure how to feel. “Just tell me why. I won’t complain about it.”

Robert looks hesitant, but he answers anyway. “Well… you know her behavior. She didn’t take things seriously enough, and when she finally did, it was too late.”

“I see…” Y/N hums again. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll make sure to remember it.”

The SDN caller tilts his head. “And what does that mean?”

“It means I make sure to do my best every day.” Y/N gives a small nod. “Even if it means bringing some woman her morning coffee when that really shouldn’t be SDN’s problem.”

Robert chuckles. “Don’t remind me of that.”

As he continues looking at Y/N, the more he sees a real hero—not someone who could have ended up a villain, or even a criminal at the very least.

“How did a good guy like you end up here anyway?”

“Oh.” Y/N scratches the back of his head. “Well… I was kinda salty when last Christmas came around and I didn’t have enough money to buy presents for myself and my family, so I robbed a warehouse.”

Robert laughs. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah… bet SDN was very impressed when I stole an entire warehouse.”

Robert suddenly remembers the case. Back in December, there had been a report about an entire warehouse being cleaned out overnight. It had taken two months to figure out who the culprit was.

“That was you!?” Robert gasps. “How did you even—?”

“I was very lucky and had the entire place staked out before breaking in. Preparation was key.” Y/N smirks proudly. “So if you want some Christmas presents, you can come to me.”

Robert chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

A month later, Robert is once again doing his desk job. Answering one call after another, he dispatches heroes to anyone who needs help—whether it’s a gang raid, a shoplifter, or even filling in as a substitute teacher. With such a diverse team, he’s happy to say they’re flexible enough to be sent on all kinds of jobs.

Since everyone except Y/N is currently busy with their tasks, Robert receives another call and answers it. On the other end, he hears someone who sounds like they’re in serious trouble.

“Can you please send someone!? A bunch of super-powered criminals are robbing my jewelry store!”

Robert quickly checks the status of everyone. They’re all going to be busy for quite a while.

“Sir, how urgent is it?” He asks.

“What do you mean how urgent!? They’re stealing right now!” the man shouts. “And they’re going to run away!”

Robert frowns and looks back at Y/N on his screen—the only one available.

“How many are there?”

“Four.”

Robert sighs, feeling unsure. “Sending someone right now.”

He switches the call to Y/N.

“Y/N, I need you to do something, but it’s going to be really hard. Think you can handle four bad guys?”

“I can try?” Y/N says, sounding unsure.

Although he still has doubts, Robert feels cornered.

“I’m sending you the location. It’s going to be a solo mission, so if things get bad, pull out.”

“Sure thing. Heading there now.” Y/N replies.

And with that, Y/N leaves.

Robert continues doing his job—answering calls, dispatching heroes, hoping everything goes smoothly. For a while, it does.

But soon, an emergency alert from Y/N flashes on his screen.

“Fuck! I’m going to lose! Shit—shit—shit—!”

Despite the panic in the hero’s voice, Robert tries to help however he can through the monitor.

“Y/N, calm down and—”

“I’m getting cornered! Oh fuck, they’ve got a gun, Robert!” Y/N shouts, followed by a startled yelp.

Robert quickly scrambles to find anyone available.

“I’m sending backup!”

A gunshot rings through the call.

“Fuck—they shot me!”

“Flambae, Coop, help him now!” Robert orders.

“On it.” Flambae responds immediately.

“I’ll protect him.” Coop adds.

Robert quickly switches calls, requesting an ambulance as fast as possible. Then he returns to Y/N’s channel.

“Y/N, I need you to hide, now! Do not engage the looters! Flambae and Coop are on their way, and an ambulance too. Every store should have at least one med kit. Find it and treat yourself.”

“Locking myself in the back office…” Y/N says weakly.

Robert feels his chest tighten.

“No med kit…” Y/N adds with a tired grunt.

“Y/N—Y/N—stay awake! Help is on the way!” Robert urges. “I need you to stay awake, alright? Talk to me.”

There’s no response. Only dead air.

Robert’s panic grows.

“Y/N? Y/N, answer me!”

But there’s still no reply—just silence.

All he can do now is pray that Flambae, Coop, and the ambulance get there in time.

-

The team found Y/N passed out and bleeding. The looters were long gone by then, leaving only the wounded hero behind. After patching him up, they rushed him to the hospital to be properly treated.

Robert’s work shift ended soon after, and he went straight to the hospital. It didn’t take long before he arrived at Y/N’s room. When he opened the door, he saw the hero lying in bed, looking exhausted. Nova wasn’t wearing his usual suit; instead, he looked pale and tired, with bandages wrapped around the right side of his chest.

“Y/N.” Robert slowly walked over to the tired man and pulled up a chair beside the bed. He studied the awake but weary hero. “…How are you?”

“Chest hurts like hell, but the morphine helps.” Y/N shrugged tiredly. “And despite wanting to sleep for a week, it’s better than bleeding out or dying.”

Robert chuckled. “I was scared you were going to die. Glad you didn’t.”

Y/N hummed, watching him while leaning back against the bed. “Doctor says I’ll be fine, but it’s going to take a while before I can work again. At least the heavy stuff. I can still use my brain and mouth.” He pointed to his head and then his mouth. “Don’t think SDN will have trouble with that.”

“Nah.” Robert shrugged with a grin. “They’re pretty flexible about that kind of thing. Too bad that means my workout partner is out.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “I can still be there.”

“Yeah?” Robert said with a teasing tone. “And do what? Watch me?”

“Yeah.” Y/N replied casually. “Especially when you do squats.”

Robert couldn’t help but smirk as he glanced at the shirtless man. “Careful there. Or I might have to report you to HR.”

“Guess I’ll be fired then.” Y/N gave a quick wink, making Robert slightly flustered.

Robert laughed quietly. “Then I suppose I should keep it quiet. …And this as well. Move.”

Robert stood up and gestured for Y/N to shift over. The hero complied. Robert removed his jacket, then unbuckled his belt, taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants.

Y/N quickly bit his lip. “Damn, Robert…”

“Keep it down. We’re not doing anything.” Robert said, grabbing the blanket and lifting it so he could slide under it. Once comfortable, he nudged closer to Y/N’s left side.

“Ah, now I can sleep with my teddy bear.” Y/N wrapped an arm around him.

Robert shamelessly rested his head against the man’s chest. “I’m not built like a teddy bear.”

“My otter, then.”

“I don’t even know what that means, and I’m scared to find out.” Robert replied dryly.

Y/N chuckled. “Just kidding. You’re better than some stupid label.” He gave Robert a quick squeeze.

The world was going to change forever. The deputy thought Joseph Seed was a madman, someone using manipulation and fear to create control—a group of people to do his bidding. And ignoring every instance where Joseph was horrible, he had one thing right: society was collapsing once the bombs dropped.

The deputy was escorting John Seed when it all happened. While the rest of his colleagues were taking the ‘big bad’ in, he was in charge of the brother.

As the once-green forest burned around them and animals ran in fear, the deputy tried to drive to the nearest shelter. The blonde in the backseat said only one thing:

“We told you.”

The deputy ignored him and instead focused on survival. Once he arrived at the shelter, he quickly grabbed John and ran to safety. Once inside, the deputy slammed the doors behind him.

As Y/N went down the stairs, he saw John Seed—still cuffed—sitting on the couch. He looked surprisingly relaxed, all things considered. The deputy, however, was anything but calm.

John stared as Y/N walked around the shelter, trying to turn on the TV. Nothing worked anymore. The deputy explored the bunker: three rooms in a row—living room, bathroom, and bedroom. In the bedroom, there was a food stash. It looked like there was enough food and water to last a while—a month for a normal person, but if they were frugal, maybe two months.

“They should know the route I took. There is no way they wouldn’t look for me, let alone someone like a Seed.” Y/N muttered, spacing out a bit. John simply stared at him.

“You should’ve confessed your sins before the world ended.” John said.

“And what help would that do?” Y/N shot back. “Not like the nukes wouldn’t drop if I confessed something.”

“That right there.” John said with a peaceful smile. “Is the exact mindset that led to humanity’s downfall. People like you are responsible for what happened to the world.”

Although stressed and ready to vent, Y/N didn’t want to deal with John right now. “For someone cuffed by a guy with plenty of bullets left, are you looking for death?” He asked.

“I’m not scared of death. If you think I am, you’re clearly mistaken.” John answered honestly, though his blue eyes looked hollow. “My life has surpassed its purpose… if you kill me now, so be it. If not, we’ll see where it goes.”

Y/N hummed. “And you don’t feel bothered sharing that with a guy like me?”

“I prefer better company. However, compared to the scumbags I’ve seen before, you at least deserve some respect.” John commented.

They remained silent for a few seconds, staring at each other. Finally, the deputy spoke.

“I don’t expect you to be stupid. We have limited food and water left. I decide when we can take it. If you try to steal anything, you will regret it. Got it?”

“Got it.” John said simply.

And thus, it was going to be a long while before they were able to get out or be discovered.

-

The third day had arrived, and Y/N was again feeding John. After washing down his food with some water, the deputy closed the bottle and walked back to the stash to put it away.

“You need to go to the toilet again?”

“I’m fine, but you’re more than welcome to look at me.” John smirked.

Y/N gave him a blank stare. “I was joking. Half.”

The deputy remained quiet. What was worst about being stuck in the bunker wasn’t the inability to go outside, with the thought of potentially nuclear air lurking. No, the worst part was boredom.

Since the TV seemed to be in good shape, the problem must have been the satellite that couldn’t be fixed. That left him a few options for entertainment: talking to John, playing chess by himself, or reading the magazines scattered around. Today, he chose the latter.

He grabbed a magazine, dropped onto the couch, and began reading. John Seed stared at him again, but by now, Y/N was used to it.

“Do you ever think I want to read as well?” John asked.

Without looking up, Y/N grabbed a random magazine from the table next to him and tossed it toward John. “Have fun.”

The magazine fell onto the back of the couch. It was one about gardening. John leaned forward, grabbed it with his mouth, lifted it onto his lap, and used his teeth to flip through the pages.

“I’m curious. Are you ever going to talk to me?” John asked.

Y/N continued reading. “Depends. I’m not in the mood to be judged by you.”

John wanted to say so much, desperate for a conversation, but he restrained himself. “Very well. Got anything in mind?”

Y/N closed the magazine and looked at John. He paused for a few seconds before speaking. “When I first saw you, you seemed like a normal guy. I was a bit surprised to find out what you did.”

John hummed. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“So why are you with Joseph?”

Despite trying to appear calm, John’s eyes seemed slightly rattled. “My soul was tainted. I lived a life… one filled with sins, shame, and disgust. Joseph and my parents saw what I did wrong and corrected my behavior. All I had to say to his help was ‘yes.’”

“Yes?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You love that word, huh?”

“It just means I’m learning from my sins.” John said calmly.

“So how did they ‘correct’ your behavior?”

“Well…” He hid the pain behind a smile. “They would punish me. Beat me.” Y/N stared, feeling disturbed. “Beat me until all I could say was yes.”

“And you never thought it was… messed up that you were abused?”

“Abused?” John scoffed, then laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. “It wasn’t abuse. It was correction.”

Despite feeling sympathy for the man, Y/N couldn’t ignore the sick cycle it represented. What John had gone through was horrifying, but what he had done to countless others was far worse.

-

A week had passed since the bombs dropped, and the two had formed an odd friendship. Despite their past conflicts, they seemed to have moved past them in order to keep their sanity. They were simply chatting over dinner—both sitting on the couch, eating beans from cans, with Y/N helping John again.

“…Can I request something from you?”

“What is it?”

“I… I don’t feel well. I feel like I’m holding something back… Can I confess my sins to you?”

Y/N looked aside. John wasn’t smiling as usual; he looked upset, desperate. “Yes.”

John let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Father… forgive me for what I’ve sinned… The sloth I committed… The innocents I couldn’t save… All because I wasn’t good enough… Not strong enough…”

Y/N felt a pang of shock as John slowly began to break down. “I’m sorry I couldn’t hold my promise to my brother, Joseph… That the Collapse was right in front of us, and yet we all failed to save humanity… I failed… I failed them… I failed everyone… Everyone… Everyone…”

“John—?”

John’s eyes suddenly snapped open, turning into a death glare directed at Y/N. “And you brought humanity to its downfall! All because you couldn’t listen to the Father! You are responsible for the death of billions of people!”

“I didn’t!” Y/N argued. John’s anger intensified. “Joseph may have been right about the Collapse, but his methods were wrong. Not only is it morally fucked up, there’s no way you could have taken control of a district—or even the country—to prevent what happened outside!” He gestured toward the shelter’s door.

“That’s because you didn’t believe in his plan!” John shouted. “You…! You weren’t wrath. You were pride. Too ignorant to understand your own flaws.”

Y/N scoffed. “Like you’re one to judge me! If anything, you’re guilty of pride yourself!” John shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t understand how ignorant you are. The fact that your entire idea relies on torture and manipulation to bend people to your will! Not only did you fail, you failed from the start! You’ve been failing ever since you and your stupid cult fucked with the wrong people!”

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

John began to sob despite his anger, startling Y/N. The blonde man crumbled down, crying. Suddenly, he started moving his arms frantically, trying to free himself.

“Let me out… Let me out!” John yelled, standing up and pacing in a frenzy.

Y/N quickly grabbed him by the shoulders. “John, calm down—”

“LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!” John’s breathing became irregular. Exhausted, he collapsed to his knees, looking up at Y/N with pleading blue eyes. “Please… let me out… kill me… or something… Please…”

Hesitant but guided by instinct, Y/N reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and slowly unlocked the cuffs. John stared in disbelief as they fell to the floor.

“You’re free to do whatever you want.” Y/N said quietly. “I trust you won’t hurt me. If you want to leave or stay… that’s up to you.”

John paused for a few seconds, then leaned in and hugged Y/N. Instead of speaking, he repeated one word over and over: “Yes… Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Y/N hugged him back, holding him close. For a long while, he allowed himself to embrace someone else. “You’re going to be fine. I won’t hurt you.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

As Y/N quietly shushed him, he silently hoped John could finally find some measure of peace—whatever way possible.

-

The next morning, Y/N was the first to wake. He remembered moving to the couch the night before, with John crying for hours until he finally became sleepy and closed his eyes. It didn’t take long before the deputy himself drifted off.

With John’s head resting against his chest, Y/N couldn’t really move without risking waking him. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long before the other stirred.

John slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. His gaze lingered on Y/N, hollow and distant. “Mornin’.”

“Morning.” Y/N replied softly. “You feel any better?”

“Not really.” John stared at the floor, silent.

Y/N hummed quietly, standing to grab a can of food and two water bottles. He returned quickly, setting them down. Unlike before, John could now eat for himself, his hands no longer restrained.

They sat quietly on the couch, eating and drinking. Y/N glanced at John, unsure how to approach the fragile situation.

“…About what happened…” Y/N eyes flicked sideways toward him. “If you really want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

“Not bothered to keep me imprisoned, deputy?” John asked, a hint of dry humor in his voice.

“…I feel my title of deputy doesn’t mean much anymore, if we’re unlucky.” Y/N admitted. “I… I think I’ve accepted that the world has changed… as much as I hate it.”

John quietly hummed. “Do you feel lost now? That your entire life changed in a single second, and there’s nothing you can do about it?” Y/N stared at him. “I can recognize that feeling… in myself.”

The deputy exhaled softly. “Then you aren’t going to uphold your… ‘judge’ role?”

“As far as we know, we’re the only ones left alive. Maybe in the whole world.” John said casually, almost too casually. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m better off with you.”

Y/N chuckled softly and leaned back into the couch, a small measure of contentment settling over him. Maybe staying in the bunker wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

Two weeks had passed since the bombs dropped. The two former enemies now sat across from each other, playing a casual game of chess. Outside, the world burned and crumbled, but inside the bunker, it was calm—almost peaceful. And yet, one thought lingered in John’s mind.

“Is it wrong for me to enjoy this?” He asked quietly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Better than crying your eyes out.”

John grinned, a rare softness in his eyes. “I keep thinking what the Father would say… that I’m conspiring with a heretic, playing a simple game with someone like that… I should feel ashamed. And yet… it feels… tranquil.”

Y/N smiled softly. “You’re pretty cool when you’re not around… y’know.”

John scoffed playfully. “And you’re reasonable when you’re not dealing with ignorant people.”

They exchanged small smiles, the friendly jabs cutting through the tension. They continued their game, enjoying the rare moment of normalcy.

“You ever think we could go outside?” Y/N asked. “See if rescuers will come, or if the radiation’s somehow cleared?”

“I think one day, we’ll spread our wings and fly out of this prison.” John replied. “Though the life we had before… it’ll be gone. And that’s for the better.”

Hearing him say it that way, Y/N realized part of John was relieved to be free from Joseph and the cult.

“I think we deserve a life-long retirement.” Y/N said, imagining it vividly. “Somewhere near the beach, a few pets, just relaxing. No nukes, no radicals… nothing shitty.”

John raised a teasing grin. “You say it like I’m included in that fantasy.”

Y/N hesitated, realizing how it sounded. “Well… since we’re stuck here together for a long while, I figured we might as well enjoy it together. Why enjoy things alone when you can enjoy them with someone else?”

John chuckled, crossing his legs. “That sounds… nice.” Then, playing further into the idea, he added with a sly grin, “Since we’re going to be stuck together our entire lives, sounds like we might as well marry each other.”

Instead of flustering, Y/N leaned closer, studying John’s handsome face and lean body, even worn by the lack of proper food. “I would be a happy man to end up with someone like you.”

John’s interest was evident. “I suppose… out of all people, being with you wouldn’t be so bad.”

Y/N grinned and leaned even closer. “I’ve been thinking… since you’ve been cuffed for a week, I imagine you haven’t… released some stress properly. I can help you with that.”

John’s answer was simple and eager: “Yes.”

They abandoned their chess game and stood. John grabbed Y/N’s hands, guiding him toward the bedroom, urgency in every movement.

“I feel… disgusted by myself. That I feel… lustful for a man like you.” John admitted.

Despite the confession, he moved eagerly, pulling Y/N closer until their faces were inches apart. The deputy cupped John’s face, eyes locked.

“And yet… more than anything, I want to be with you.”

Y/N’s hands slid down John’s back, settling on his rear. “In a world that’s turned to shit, is it so bad that we sin together, judge?”

“You're pretty young to be here, huh?” Roy comments, smirking as he looks down at his new colleague and partner, Y/N, sitting behind his desk. “You look like a kid.”

“If I were one, I wouldn’t be here.” Y/N retorts, not looking up from his notes.

He then stands, ready to head out to their next case—a drug overdose linked to heavy heroin. As the two men walk toward the parking lot, Earle speaks up.

“Cocky, huh? Hope your skills can match up with your ego.”

Roy grins smugly, while Y/N retains his stoic expression.

Once outside, the new Vice member walks forward, only for Roy to whistle loudly. The detective turns, confused. That’s when Earle grabs his car keys and jingles them.

“You want to ride in a boring car, or something fancy?” Roy nods toward the car next to him—a Cadillac Series 62 Convertible.

Y/N hums. “Of course you have a flashy car.” He walks toward the car, prepared to sit in the passenger seat.

Roy chuckles, opening the car door to take the driver’s seat. “Is that complaining I hear, kiddo?”

“I’m not. And don’t call me kiddo, Earle.”

Roy simply smirks, ready to start the car once both men are seated. Then they drive off, heading to their first case.

-

Once they arrived at a motel, the police were already investigating the entire place. When Roy and Y/N drove in, they simply joined the investigation. After getting the gist of things, they began looking around.

The victim was a white man, 24 years old, blonde with blue eyes, named Vincent Montgomery. He had a black eye on his right side and had died with a needle next to him in bed. His body was soaked from taking a shower, and he hadn’t bothered to dress, so a towel was draped over his lower body.

Y/N leaned closer, inspecting the body. He grabbed the arm and examined the injection site. It looked sloppy, with multiple punctures from failed attempts.

“Looks like a first-time user.” Y/N commented, glancing at Roy, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed. “He tried multiple times to inject himself.”

“What an idiot.” Roy muttered. “He didn’t even use a belt to make his veins more visible. Definitely an amateur. Then again…” He looked at the towel. “Perhaps he was too busy with something else.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you making a joke about a dead guy?”

“Not much of a joke.” Roy replied, spotting a magazine slightly hidden under the bed near Vincent’s feet. “Sticky magazine here and traces of semen on the bed.”

Roy bent down and picked it up. He smirked as he flipped to the front page and showed it to Y/N—it was a picture of a naked man.

“Looks like Vincent over here was… a fruit.” Roy said with a grin.

Y/N hummed and continued scanning the room for leads, opening the closet drawers. He was surprised to find expensive clothing. Roy walked over, leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette.

“You’re very serious, kiddo.” He remarked.

“It’s a very serious matter, old man.” Y/N shot back lightly.

Roy seemed impressed by the subtle insult. “Kids like him probably grew up sheltered and rich, so they didn’t even know the basics of drugs.” He looked at the clothing, reinforcing his theory. “So he either got disowned after being outed as a fruit and turned into a junkie, or he was a rich kid who just wanted to go wild in secret.”

“Agreed.” Y/N said. While not shocked, he silently wished someone with Roy’s intellect wasn’t such an asshole.

Y/N then found a small piece of paper tucked under the layers of clothing. It was a phone number. When Roy saw it, he smirked.

“The secret boyfriend. If we’re lucky, his supplier.”

Y/N looked back at Roy. “Let’s go see him.”

-

After checking out the motel, they followed the lead—the phone number. They discovered it belonged to a handyman named Elliot Reyes. Instead of calling him, they decided to go to his and his wife’s apartment.

As they got closer, Roy spoke up. “I feel bad for his wife. Imagine one day finding out your husband cheated… with another man.”

Y/N shook his head. “I wish I could say there’s a chance you’re wrong, but who the hell has a handyman’s phone number in a hotel?”

Roy chuckled. “Glad you’ve got some common sense.”

The duo arrived at the apartment complex. Together, they got inside and went to apartment 204. After knocking, they waited for someone to answer. A man, about 28 years old, opened the door.

“LAPD. Agent Morgan and Earle.” Y/N said, glancing at Roy, who grinned at the man. “You’re Mr. Reyes, correct?”

“Yes.” The man said, looking confused. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“You can.” Roy replied.

Without warning, the man stepped aside, letting them in. Y/N followed, causing Elliot to look more confused. Earle’s eyes scanned the apartment. Though small, it looked cozy. His gaze landed on a photo frame—a wedding picture of Elliot and his wife.

“Your wife’s out?” Y/N asked.

“Working night shifts at the clinic.” Elliot replied, sitting down across from Y/N, who took a seat on the couch. “What’s going on?”

Roy smirked at Y/N, giving him a knowing look. He let his new partner take the lead. The detective grabbed his pen and notepad and began the interrogation.

“A man named Vincent Montgomery was found dead in his motel room.”

Elliot’s eyes widened; he grew visibly nervous. “What… what does that have to do with me?”

“What is your relationship with the victim?” Y/N pressed.

“I’ve never heard of him.” Elliot said, trying to play it cool.

Y/N didn’t believe him. “Really? Because he had your company’s phone number in his motel room.”

“What about it?” Elliot shrugged. “Plenty of people keep the number of their handyman.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Reyes, why would someone keep a handyman’s number in a motel room? The motel owner keeps that stuff, not the guests.”

Elliot looked nervous. “Maybe… maybe he kept it around in case he got a house or something?” he suggested weakly.

Roy leaned forward, grinning. “I guess that’s possible. But we found something else—porn magazines in Vincent’s room. Filled with men.”

Elliot panicked. “Oh, so you think I slept with him?! I’m not… a queer!”

Roy glanced back at the wedding photo, then picked it up, his smirk softening. “I feel sorry for her… not knowing her own husband had another man.”

Elliot stood up, furious. “Are you threatening me!?”

“No, nothing like that.” Roy said casually, shrugging. “Not unless you tell us what we want to know.”

Elliot hesitated, frowning for a few seconds before sitting back down. “I’ll tell you everything… just don’t tell her.”

Roy’s grin returned. “Deal.”

“Fine… what do you want to know?” The handyman sounded defeated.

Y/N readied himself for another round of questions. “When did you start knowing Vincent?”

“A month ago. We met at this place where guys… secretly hook up. I liked him enough that he gave me his phone number, and we’ve been seeing each other ever since. In secret.”

The vice detective nodded, believing him. “And when was the last time you saw him?”

“…Two days ago, around 8 PM.” Elliot confessed. “He always seemed nervous about meeting up, or… in general.” He looked back at Y/N. “How did he die?”

“Heroin overdose.”

“Oh god…” The handyman sighed, pressing his hands to his face.

“Did Mr. Montgomery have a drug problem before?” Y/N asked, jotting down everything he could.

“Not that I know of. He seemed like a good, normal guy… though troubled.” Elliot replied. “But last night, he seemed… off.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

“He seemed shaky. Always felt like his family didn’t get him—not just because of… that, but also because of his job, his life, everything.” The handyman said. “He mentioned wanting to relax once. I didn’t realize he meant drugs.”

Roy stared at him. “So he met up with a dealer and got heroin. Any idea who fits the bill?”

Elliot thought for a few seconds. “I’ve heard rumors from some guys I met there. There’s this shady guy… think he’s called Seth. Not sure about his last name or how he looks. But from what I heard, he’s pretty extreme.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“He trades drugs for… sexual favors. Extreme ones. Like… groups of men, hitting them, putting them through pain… stuff like that.”

“Sounds like a freak.” Roy commented. “Even bigger than you.”

Elliot frowned at the jab, but before he could respond, Y/N spoke. “Where can we find this Seth?”

“MacArthur Park. That’s where the guys meet. Usually at midnight.” Elliot said.

Y/N leaned slightly forward, curious. “Did Mr. Montgomery have a black eye the last time you saw him?”

Elliot raised a genuine eyebrow. “No. Why?”

Roy seemed satisfied. “Congratulations. I’m not going to rat you out to your wife.” He walked toward the door, leaving Elliot frowning.

“Thank you for your time, Reyes.” Y/N said, standing as well. “And… sorry for your loss.”

The handyman sighed, saddened. “Thanks…”

Once the duo arrived back at the car, it was late in the afternoon. While Roy slid back behind the wheel, Y/N reviewed his notes. If Elliot hadn’t lied, they now knew who had been ‘selling’ the drugs.

“Do we go to the park?” Y/N asked.

“We need to handle this carefully.” Earle replied. “If he’s really trading drugs for sex, he won’t carry them around. If we arrest him, we need to confirm he’s in possession of the drugs first.”

“So we’re going to tail him?” Y/N asked.

“Too inefficient. We don’t even know who he is. Besides, all these guys are way too horny. I doubt he’s the only freaky one.” Roy said.

“Then what do you suggest?”

Roy smirked. “We go incognito. We head to the park, find Seth, and track him back to his place. Once we see the drugs, we make the arrest. All we have to do is… play pretend as a couple.”

Y/N blinked at him. “You want us to pretend we’re a couple?”

“Unless that scares you too much.” Roy teased. “Besides, I’d believe you if you were a fruit.”

Y/N scoffed. “I could say the same about you.”

Roy just rolled his eyes in response.

-

After changing into something more casual, both men arrived at MacArthur Park. They had already set up their personas: two men secretly meeting during the night. Since they were specifically looking for this Seth character, they needed to appear like people who would easily slip into drugs. They tried to act anxious and vulnerable, though Roy still carried his usual cocky demeanor.

Y/N glanced around, seeing no one except Roy, who leaned casually. “Don’t see him anywhere.”

“The night’s still young.” Roy replied. “Let’s wait and just play our parts.”

The undercover detectives sat down on a bench. Roy grabbed a cigarette and lit it, both men staring at the pond. As they waited, some men passed by—some looked like regular park-goers, while others couldn’t help but check the two out.

Eventually, Roy caught someone out of the corner of his eye—a man a few feet away, casually smoking against a tree, occasionally glancing at them. He looked rough, in his late 30s, though decent enough on the surface. Taking a risk, Roy winked at the stranger with a charming smile, and the man winked back.

“We caught someone.” Roy muttered, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “Showtime, sweetie.” He added with a teasing lilt, much to Y/N’s dismay.

Roy was the first to stand, nodding toward the man to indicate where they were headed. The detective followed, walking toward the figure by the tree. While Earle radiated confidence, Y/N appeared slightly tense.

“Hey.” Roy greeted casually. “You doing good tonight?”

“Sure am.” The stranger replied, blowing out smoke. He then sized up the two men. “You two gentlemen?”

“We’re good.” Roy said, resting a hand on Y/N’s back. “Just looking for a fun night.”

“Fun night, huh?” The man looked intrigued. He glanced at Y/N, who kept his stoic act. “You seem a little nervous.”

“…Never done it with a party of three.” Y/N admitted, selling the nervous act well enough that the stranger chuckled.

“And your friend?”

“Always curious to broaden my horizons.” Roy said smoothly.

The stranger hummed in approval. “Want to go to my place then? Got drinks and plenty of stuff for a fun night.”

Roy’s smile widened. “Count us in.”

-

They were sitting behind the stranger’s car, heading deeper into the east side of the city. The two continued their ‘act’—mostly their usual personalities blended with the current situation. The stranger glanced in the rearview mirror at them, smiling.

“I see you two know each other a long time.” He said.

“You could say that.” Roy replied, shamelessly grabbing his partner’s hand without warning. Y/N flinched. “But we kinda want to try new things.”

The stranger smiled. “Adventurous. I like that.” He glanced at the other man, who still looked nervous. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah…” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always nervous around men like us.” Roy assured the stranger, then turned to his partner, leaning closer. “Honey, we discussed this. It’s going to be just fine.”

Roy placed a hand on Y/N’s face, making him flush. “Fine…” Y/N whispered.

Roy smirked and looked back at the stranger. “Any chance your place has something to keep his edge off? He’s always like this.”

The stranger smiled. “Sure thing. I’ll give him some after our fun night.”

Roy’s eyes gleamed. “Perfect. That’s our guy—Seth. How wonderful.”

-

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the stranger’s apartment. Once inside, the place looked a bit sloppy, though nothing gross. The duo glanced around as the stranger spoke.

“You two want drinks first?” He asked, walking to the kitchen cabinet to pull out a bottle of wine. He grabbed three wine glasses from the counter.

Roy rested a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “I think my man needs something stronger.” He glanced at Y/N. “I told you, it’s going to be fine. If anything, it’s going to be fun.”

“I guess a little beforehand is okay…” The stranger said, heading back to the counter but glancing at Y/N. “Have you ever… done any illegal stuff before?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “No. Why?”

The stranger smiled, reaching for a bag of white powder. Before he could say anything else, Roy whipped out his gun, dropped his grin, and barked, “LPD! Hands where I can see them!”

The dealer froze, instantly frowning. “Shit…!”

Y/N immediately moved to the counter, eyes fixed on the bag. He examined it closely and confirmed to Roy, “It’s real.”

Roy cracked the slightest smile.

-

After the arrest, they called in the rest of the department. It looked like they had indeed caught Seth. Since it was already late, both men were excused from the scene.

With a successful first day behind them, Roy drove Y/N back to his apartment. During the ride, Roy’s usual smirking didn’t falter, but Y/N had grown used to it.

Once they arrived, Y/N glanced at Roy. “That was an interesting first day.”

“I could say the same. Didn’t expect working with you could be this fun.” Roy said gleefully. “I doubt we could play ‘fruits’ tomorrow.”

“I’m surprised how well you managed to play.” Y/N admitted, genuinely. “I almost thought you were coming onto me.”

Roy flinched slightly. “Are you accusing me of being a… fag?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift. “No.”

Suddenly, Roy leaned in slowly, his eyes hollow yet intimidating, bringing his face close to Y/N’s.

“Be careful, detective. Look at yourself before you come at me. Say a word about what happened to anyone, and I promise… you’ll be fired like the fruit you are.”

Y/N stayed calm, raising an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me?”

“Just a word of advice.” Roy said, a faint smile cracking across his face.

Y/N hummed, realizing he had found Roy’s weak spot. “Seems like I struck a nerve.”

“Watch. It.” Roy grabbed the front of Y/N’s tie, hands close to his neck, glaring.

“I am. As long as I don’t rat you out, you won’t either.” Y/N replied evenly.

Roy looked momentarily confused but understood quickly. He eased back, smiling. “Seems we have more in common than I thought.”

“I could say the same.” Y/N said casually, smirking.

Roy chuckled, briefly surveying the detective before meeting his gaze. “I’ll be very excited to see you tomorrow, Y/N. I might even pick you up.”

“Thank you.” Y/N said.

“As long as you stay on my good side, I’ll treat you well.” Roy added, winking. “See you tomorrow, detective.”

“Until tomorrow.” Y/N replied with a chuckle.

Three happy years had passed in their marriage, and Gustave and Y/N were living their lives contentedly in Lumiere. Gustave, now twenty-six, and his husband, just a year younger, felt fortunate to have such a bright stretch of years ahead of them.

Gustave dedicated his days to the city, working as an engineer and guiding his apprentices, preparing them for the future. Y/N, on the other hand, devoted himself to uplifting the people of Lumiere, whether through his theatrical skills, dancing, or musical talent.

Despite the upcoming Gommage and potential expeditions on the horizon, they were happy. Yet Gustave felt a quiet tug in his heart, something he couldn’t quite shake. He had discussed it with Y/N before, but they had never reached an agreement. Still, the feeling lingered.

One night, after returning home and settling into bed, Gustave finally spoke up.

“I feel like we should discuss the possibility of having a child.” He said, his voice careful, almost hesitant.

Y/N turned slightly, his face softening into a somber expression. “You know how I feel about it…”

“I know.” Gustave replied gently. “But… it feels right to have one.” He sat up, worry lining his features as he looked at his husband. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I know it’s complicated—well, we’re both gentlemen—but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Y/N let out a quiet hum, his expression apologetic. “I’m sorry…”

Gustave quickly wrapped a reassuring arm around him. “No, don’t feel guilty. I didn’t want you to.” He paused, searching his husband’s eyes. “I just felt like I needed to get this off my chest. It’s not like I’m not making a difference already. I have my apprentices… Emma… and most importantly, you.”

Y/N’s gaze softened. “Are you really okay with this?”

“I’m sure.” Gustave said, offering a small, tender smile. “I just have to look at it positively.”

-

The next workday, Gustave and Y/N exchanged a quick good-luck gesture before parting ways. Gustave headed back to his lab, diving into a promising project: the Lumina Converter. He believed it could revolutionize energy use, especially for future expeditions, though he knew it would take years before it functioned fully.

As he and his colleagues focused on their work, one of the assistants called out, “Deliverer’s here with a package of Chroma!”

Curious, Gustave walked to the entrance and was met with a familiar face.

It was Maelle, the ten-year-old girl who often took on odd jobs around the lab. Despite her stubborn personality, Gustave had always admired her spunk. She carried a large package, slightly struggling under its weight.

“Here you go, moustache man. A big package of Chroma, all for your liking.” Maelle said, finally setting it down.

“Thank you, girl with the freckles.” Gustave replied with a teasing grin. But as he looked at her, he noticed her usual spark seemed dimmer. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” She muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Gustave frowned, setting the package aside and crouching to meet her eye level. “You know you can talk to me.” He said gently. “I promise I’ll listen and help, if you need it.”

Maelle hesitated, then let out a sigh. “I got into another fight with my foster family… and got kicked out. Again.”

Gustave’s heart sank; he knew her habit of moving from home to home. “Where did you sleep last night?”

Maelle shrugged. “A bench at the park. A bit annoying, but it worked.” She stretched her back casually, but Gustave’s concern only grew.

“And what about food? You hungry?” He asked, his voice gentle.

“I bought some with my loan.” She said matter-of-factly, as if this were nothing unusual.

Gustave shook his head slightly, frustrated that someone so young had to fend for herself. Without hesitation, he went to the front desk, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote down an address.

“This is where I live.” He said, tearing the paper from the notebook and handing it to her. “I know you’re tough, but a proper bed does wonders for your back.”

“Does it now, old man?” Maelle teased with a small smirk.

Gustave chuckled. “Twenty-six used to be really young, actually. But that’s a story for another time. If you want a roof over your head and a warm dinner, come here.”

Maelle studied the paper, her expression thoughtful. “…I’ll think about it.”

Despite her cautious words, Gustave had a feeling she would come. She was smart, resourceful, and stubborn—but deep down, she knew when someone genuinely cared.

-

After a long day at work, the sky had turned dark, and rain began to fall steadily. Gustave hurried into the house, shaking off the wet before hanging his soaked jacket.

“I’m home!” He called.

“In the kitchen, making dinner!” Came Y/N’s cheerful reply.

Gustave removed his shoes and walked into the kitchen, finding his husband tending to a pan of chicken, with vegetables sizzling beside it. Y/N glanced up and smiled.

“Already wet for me, huh?” He teased.

“Good evening to you too.” Gustave replied with a chuckle, leaning in for a quick peck on Y/N’s cheek. “How was work?”

“Good. We were training for the next festival again. It’s been fun… despite the dreadful reminder.” Y/N said, stirring the food slightly.

Gustave leaned against the kitchen table, ready to share his own day. “We ran into a bit of a problem with the Lumina Converter. Chroma kept dripping everywhere, so we had to spend hours cleaning. Still… I wouldn’t call it a wasted day.”

He paused for a moment, his thoughts shifting. “Oh, and I saw Maelle again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose, curiosity evident. “Really? How was she?”

“Could be better. She got kicked out of another foster home.” Gustave’s voice softened as he looked toward the window, watching raindrops trace down the glass.

Y/N froze, concern flashing across his face. “Is she… okay?”

“According to her, yes… but.” Gustave trailed off, arms crossing as he pondered. “I invited her to stay here. Figured it’s better than having her be homeless.”

Y/N frowned. “Why didn’t she go back to the orphanage?”

“You know she never liked it there.” Gustave sighed, gazing out at the falling rain. “But she’s smart. She’ll come here… even if it’s just for warmth and a meal.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Let’s hope so.”

-

After finishing their dinner, Y/N spent some time tidying up the house while Gustave tackled the laundry. An hour later, a knock at the door made Gustave pause, a familiar feeling stirring in his chest.

He hurried downstairs and opened the door, revealing Maelle—soaked through, shivering slightly from the rain.

“Maelle! Come in!” Gustave exclaimed, quickly ushering her inside and closing the door behind her.

From the stairs, Y/N called down, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Maelle! Grab some towels and blankets!” Gustave shouted.

“On it!” Y/N replied, hurrying off.

Gustave gently guided Maelle to the living room, where the fireplace crackled warmly. He crouched down, making sure she was alright.

“I’m glad you came.” He said softly.

“Better here than freezing to death out there.” Maelle muttered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Moments later, Y/N returned with towels. Gustave wrapped her in them, and his husband added a blanket on top for extra warmth. Gustave wished he had spare clothes that would fit her, but for now, he focused on keeping her comfortable, sitting beside her.

“You want something to eat?” He asked. Maelle nodded eagerly.

Gustave looked at Y/N, who gave a subtle nod, then went back to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Y/N returned with a plate of food and handed it to her. Maelle, clearly desperate, didn’t wait for utensils and dug in with her hands. Gustave exchanged a worried glance with Y/N, who shrugged slightly.

“Try not to eat so fast.” Y/N said, sitting beside her. “You’ll give yourself a stomach ache.”

Maelle ignored him, shoveling food into her mouth. Gustave gently nudged Y/N. “Let’s step into the hallway for a moment.”

“We’ll be right here if you need us.” Gustave reassured Maelle as they stepped out.

In the quiet hallway, Gustave spoke softly. “She’s been through enough foster homes, Y/N. I think we should give her a real place to stay.”

“Like fostering her?” Y/N asked, curious.

“I was thinking more… like adopting her.” Gustave said firmly. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and Gustave continued. “I understand your concerns about children. I’m not asking us to bring one into the world—we’re just giving a girl a safe home, good food, warmth, and people who care about her. We can make her happy here.”

Y/N paused, considering, before finally nodding. “I suppose helping someone who’s been unlucky in this world is… different. Very well.”

Gustave’s face lit up with a smile. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Y/N said, returning the smile. “I’m sure.”

Gustave leaned in to kiss him, then pulled back, glancing toward the living room. “Let’s tell her the good news.”

They walked back in, finding Maelle clutching the towel and blanket, her plate now empty, face smudged with grease from the chicken.

“We have some news.” Gustave began, sitting across from her at the coffee table. Maelle looked cautious. “We talked, and we’d love for you to live with us.”

“For how long?” She asked warily.

“Permanently.” Gustave said, his voice gentle but cheerful. Maelle blinked in shock. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“We’ll get you a proper bedroom and some new clothes.” Y/N added. “Give us a week, and we’ll make sure this place feels like home too.”

Maelle stayed quiet, studying them carefully.

“Maelle.” Gustave said softly, “would you like to stay with us?”

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. “Yes.”

The two men shared a warm smile.

“Welcome to the family.” Gustave said, gently.

-

A week had passed, and the two men had settled Maelle into her own room. She had a proper bed, a desk, and a bookshelf. Gustave and Y/N were ready to spend more if she wanted anything, but knowing her, she was far too independent to ask for help—at least for now.

With a free day ahead, they decided to take Maelle out into the city. They wandered through the streets of Lumiere, enjoying the sights, eating ice cream, and chatting. It was a joy to see Maelle opening up, even if it was only through her usual snarky remarks.

Eventually, they arrived at the shore, the big monolith looming in the distance. Its glowing number—39—served as a daily reminder of their mortality.

Gustave’s eyes gleamed with playful mischief. “Want to see my rock-throwing skills?”

Maelle raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“To hit the Paintress, of course.” Gustave said, crouching to gather some rocks from the beach.

Maelle chuckled softly. “Are you serious?”

Y/N laughed from the side. “Gustave is always serious about his rock-throwing skills. Like that second date where he skipped a rock several meters away.”

Gustave smirked proudly. “Too bad no one else was there to witness it and record the achievement.”

Maelle rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You don’t believe me?” Gustave asked.

“I believe you can throw a pebble. How special.” She replied with a smirk.

Gustave grinned at her mockery. “Fine. Watch and learn.” He playfully pointed at her, adjusting his stance.

Maelle glanced at Y/N, a questioning look in her eyes. “He’s just very proud of his pebble-throwing skills. Let him have it.” The man said with a small smile.

After a few careful seconds, Gustave flung the pebble toward the water. It skipped—not once, not twice, but seven times.

Maelle’s jaw dropped. “How in the world…?” she whispered. “This is ridiculous. And stupid.”

“And yet, you saw it.” Gustave replied proudly. “Want me to teach you?”

“Teaching what?” Maelle asked incredulously. “Throwing rocks?”

“There’s a lot of technique to it, believe it or not.” Gustave explained. “Your stance, how hard you throw, the wind speed, the water depth—all of it matters.”

Maelle raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure this isn’t just a math lesson in disguise?”

Y/N chuckled. “Imagine being married to him.”

Gustave laughed. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He grabbed a few more pebbles and held one out to her. “Soon, everyone in Lumiere will know the legendary pebble thrower, Maelle. And eventually, you’ll teach the next generation.”

“For those who come after.” Y/N added with a warm smile.

Maelle laughed softly, shaking her head at how ridiculous it all seemed. “Fine, fine. Give me the stones.” She held out her hand, and Gustave dropped a pebble into it. “Just don’t come crying to me if one day I decide to throw a stone at you.”

“Then I’ll make sure to stay in your good graces.” Gustave said with a grin, resting a hand gently on her back. “Now, let’s begin Gustave’s very first Pebble-Throwing Lessons.”

Mission failure after mission failure after another mission failure—Robert has started noticing a worrying trend. Considering the team he’s leading, he feels lucky they even work together at all… for the most part. And yet, there are two people who simply can’t seem to function as a unit.

Today, he makes sure to confront them about it.

“So what’s the deal between the two of you?” Robert asks.

He eyes Flambae, whose entire suit is soaked thanks to being frozen by the other man. Y/N—also known as Frostbite—on the other hand, has parts of his suit burned off, only saved by his freezing powers.

“The two of you look like an old married couple.” Robert adds, as dry as ever.

Flambae glares, instantly defensive. “What? Jealous you’re sad and lonely as ever?”

Frostbite frowns at the man beside him. “Aren’t you single too?”

“Watch it!”

Robert steps in before it escalates—again. “Before you cause another massive biohazard, what happened?”

Flambae answers immediately. “This dumbass thought it was a smart idea to make the floor slippery!”

Frostbite snaps back. “That’s because the thief was running away. So I set a trap to make him slip. Smart? I know.”

Robert just stares at him, deadpanned.

“But Flam-bitch over here thought it was better to corner him with fire and almost set the entire mall on fire.”

Flambae quickly interjects. “That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t try to put out the flames, Frost-snide. I had to work double-time thanks to your sabotage!”

“The only sabotage happening is your brain cells dying off!”

“Enough!” Robert barks. Both men glare at him. “This crap between you keeps happening. Somehow you two managed to fight while saving a cat from a tree—and again over helping an elderly woman cross the street. The lowest of heroes can handle those tasks. You should be ashamed you can’t do them together.”

Frostbite mutters. “…Then why did you send two heroes for a one-hero job?”

“Not the point.” Robert snaps. He fixes them both with a sharp look. “I have two options. Either I never put the two of you on the same mission again—or I intentionally put you together until you sort your shit out.”

“Please do option one.” Flambae says hopefully.

Robert pretends to think it over while the two brace themselves. “Well, considering Chase chewed me out after the cat fiasco, I think I’d rather watch you both suffer.”

Frostbite gives him an icy, piercing glare. “I’ll make sure that every day, I break into your locker and freeze all your clothes.”

Flambae joins in. “And be thankful you still have hair—before I take it away.”

Even knowing SDN has his back, Robert feels slightly intimidated. “Look, before you do anything that gets you fired, focus on the positive. This could be a life-changing opportunity. Maybe the two of you will become best friends.”

Flambae and Frostbite exchange doubtful side-eyes.

-

It didn’t take long before Robert found the perfect opportunity to force Flambae and Frostbite to ‘bond.’

A diner on the edge of town had both its cook and waiter call in sick on the same day—right in the middle of a massive lunch rush. When Robert heard about it, he knew exactly which two idiots could help.

Behind the counter, Flambae was in the kitchen, trying—and failing—to stay patient as he cooked. Plates slid in and out of the kitchen at a steady pace, carried by Frostbite, who had reluctantly taken on the role of waiter.

One of the orders came in.

“Table three ordered three burgers, two fries, a strawberry milkshake, and a chocolate milkshake.” Frostbite recited, hanging the slip alongside the others. He glanced back at Flambae. “How long until order five is done?”

“Three minutes.” Flambae replied, flipping the burgers with a practiced motion.

Frostbite paused, eyeing the grill. “…Those look raw as fuck.”

Flambae shot him a glare. “Listen, waiter-boy. Are you the cook, or am I?”

“They’re undercooked.”

“They’ll be fine.”

Frostbite sighed. “Whatever. Don’t come crying to me when the customers complain.” With that, he turned and left the kitchen.

Flambae groaned and glanced back at the burgers. …Okay, maybe Frostbite was right.

But he wasn’t about to admit that.

Instead, he lifted one hand, flames flickering to life around his fingers, and grinned at the grill. “Time to get crispy.”

Three minutes later, Frostbite returned to pick up the burgers. At first glance, they looked fine—perfectly assembled, nicely stacked. Flambae handed over the plates with smug confidence.

Less than a minute later, Frostbite was back, frowning.

“I want you to explain what the fuck you did to those burgers.”

Flambae blinked. “What the fuck is wrong with the burgers?”

Without answering, Frostbite turned and walked toward the dining area. Flambae followed, annoyed.

They stopped at a corner booth, where two large truck drivers sat stiffly.

“Here’s the chef.” Frostbite announced, gesturing enthusiastically toward Flambae.

Flambae scowled.

One of the truckers lifted his burger, pulling the bun aside. The patty beneath was… suspiciously crunchy. “The meat’s weirdly overcooked.” He said. “Like, really crunchy.”

“Fine.” Flambae sighed. “I’ll make you a new one.”

Frostbite crossed his arms. “Apologize to them.”

“It was a mistake. Relax, ice cream boy.”

“But you burned the burgers.”

“At least I didn’t burn them.”

“You still ruined their food.”

The two truckers exchanged an awkward glance as the argument escalated.

“It’s just some fucking burgers.” Flambae snapped. “Big fucking deal.”

“Big deal?” Frostbite shot back. “Yeah, it’s a shitty fast-food place, and yeah, they probably shouldn’t eat this much junk—but they still deserve food that isn’t charcoal.”

Flambae shoved the plate toward him. “Then you make it, smart mouth.”

“You’re the cook.” Frostbite shoved it back. “An incompetent one, but a cook nonetheless.”

As the plate was shoved back and forth, one of the truckers raised a hand. “Hey, uh… it’s only a little burned. We’ll survive—”

Too late.

The plate slipped from their hands and shattered on the floor.

The entire diner went silent.

“Look what you did!” Frostbite snapped.

“Me!?” Flambae scoffed. “You’re the one who can’t hold a goddamn plate!”

And that was when someone finally called SDN—to come collect their heroes before the situation turned into a full-blown disaster.

-

After yet another unsuccessful mission, Flambae and Frostbite were assigned a task even simpler than cooking burgers and waiting tables.

Helping a supermarket restock shelves and clean.

Simple. Foolproof. Or so Robert hoped.

They were split up—Y/N handling the deep-frozen products while Flambae stocked snacks—when Robert’s exhausted voice crackled through their comms.

“And that brings us to my seventh complaint.” Robert said, sounding like he was reading straight off a disciplinary report. “SDN does not tolerate any form of shaming—whether based on personality or appearance. That includes weight.”

Flambae frowned. “I wasn’t the one who called them fatasses.”

“I didn’t.” Y/N replied flatly. “I said it wasn’t smart to eat that much fast food.”

Robert sighed. “I know this is America—land of free speech—but just because you can say something doesn’t mean you should say something. Ever.” Y/N rolled his eyes. “I try to keep my expectations low, but not ‘setting the place on fire or freezing it into an ice cube’ low. Just… do your jobs. Follow orders. Be nice. And don’t fight.”

The channel went quiet.

Both men silently hoped that was the last scolding of the day.

Luckily, they were assigned to separate aisles, far away from each other. Bored out of their minds, but at least working without incident.

That was—until Flambae placed a carton of eggs onto the shelf.

“Hey, bitch!”

The sudden voice blasting through his comms made him yelp. The carton slipped from his hands and smashed against the floor, egg yolk spreading everywhere.

“Shit…!”

Flambae froze, glancing around. No witnesses.

Grabbing his comm, he pressed a finger to his earpiece as he hurried toward the back office. “Hope you’re happy jump-scaring me. Just dropped a carton of eggs.”

“Don’t blame your butterfingers on me, Crispy.” Prism replied, her voice dripping with sass. “Besides ruining the egg supply, how’s your day going with Frosty-boy?”

Flambae groaned. “Terrible. He keeps messing things up and getting us both in trouble. What idiot thought putting fire and ice together was a good idea?” He sighed, relieved to vent. “At least with Waterboy, I can bully him into staying away.”

“C’mon.” Prism teased. “Frostbite isn’t that bad.”

Flambae rolled his eyes.

“He’s actually pretty great.” She continued. “Dude’s a walking ice cream machine. A week ago, he made an ice sculpture of me. He’s cold as hell, but secretly the sweetest guy—kinda like you.”

“Don’t compare me to him.”

“Sorry, brotha, but it’s true.” Prism shot back. “The three of us could’ve been besties, but you and him keep bitching. Hell, you two could’ve been the perfect couple if you didn’t yap so much.”

Flambae snorted. “Me and Frost-bitch? A couple? Like that’d ever happen.”

“I’m confident it will.” Prism said cheerfully. “I even bet twenty bucks on it—with Malelova.”

Flambae grabbed towels and cleaning spray from the office. “You’re insane.”

“Just saying.” Prism added. “Even if you hate his personality, he’s unironically hot. Ice powers. Literally.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Flambae muttered, already tuning her out.

“Hey—don’t ignore what I’m spitting, you know I’m right! So listen—wait, GOLEM, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? …I gotta go. Golem’s doing some freaky shit!”

The call cut off.

Flambae stared at his comm for a moment before groaning. With cleaning supplies in hand, he trudged back toward the mess.

In the back of his mind, he wished the day would just end already.

Later that day, their boss sent both heroes to check out the walk-in freezer.

Apparently, the temperature kept dropping, the machine was stuck, and something about the meter had gone ignored for far too long.

Trying—trying—to remain professional, both men stayed silent as they entered the freezer. The heavy door shut behind them with a dull thud. Their breaths fogged in the air, the room filled with shelves of deep-frozen food.

Frostbite crouched near the machine, examining the frozen-over meter. “These dumbasses neglected the gauge.” He muttered.

Flambae stepped carefully across the icy floor, arms slightly out to keep his balance. “Want me to unfreeze it?”

“You’ll only destroy it.”

Flambae snorted but stayed back as Frostbite focused, using his powers to carefully thaw the meter. Ice cracked and melted—then the machine sparked violently.

“Shit!” Frostbite jumped back.

“‘You’ll only destroy it.’” Flambae echoed mockingly, earning a sharp glare.

The temperature dropped even further.

Flambae turned toward the exit. “Have fun explaining that to Mr. What’s-His-Face—”

He grabbed the handle.

It didn’t budge.

He tried again. Harder.

Nothing.

This time, Frostbite smirked. “Have fun explaining how you fucked up the door.”

“Fuck off!”

Realizing the door was frozen shut, Flambae lifted a hand. “Fine. I’ll melt it.”

Fire sparked to life in his palm—

—and instantly, the sprinklers activated.

The alarm blared. Freezing water poured down on them, dousing Flambae’s flames immediately.

“Goddamnit!” Frostbite snapped. “Look what you’ve done!”

The cold intensified as water soaked their suits. Flambae hugged himself, teeth clenched, before pounding on the door.

“HEY! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! WE’RE STUCK!”

No response.

After a minute, he stopped. Breathing hard, he stared at his damp hands before trying again—weak flames barely flickering against the ice-coated door.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” He looked back at Frostbite. “We’re stuck.”

“Shit…” Frostbite hugged himself tighter, visibly shivering now.

They both knew it would take time before SDN or the firefighters arrived.

Thinking fast, Flambae reignited his powers—not enough to burn, just enough to warm himself. He smirked, glancing over.

“What? Your ice powers don’t make you immune to freezing to death?”

“N-No…”

But Frostbite didn’t snap back. He was shaking harder now, knees buckling slightly.

The smirk faded.

With a quiet sigh, Flambae crossed the floor and sat down beside him, wrapping an arm around Frostbite and pulling him closer.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He muttered. “But if you’re gonna freeze to death—ironically—I might as well save you.”

“…T-Thank you.”

Frostbite shifted closer instinctively, pressing into the warmth. Flambae tightened his hold, both arms around him now.

“Y-You’re not that bad.” Frostbite murmured.

Flambae blinked, surprised—then snorted softly. “You neither.”

Silence followed. Comfortable. Warm.

Then Frostbite spoke again, clearly regretting it immediately. “I… once spread a rumor that you stress-ate on the job and were getting chubby.”

Flambae stared at him. “That was you!?”

“Yeah… sorry.”

Instead of snapping, Flambae laughed. “Fair. I’m the one who heated your chair once a week and told everyone someone kept farting on it.”

Frostbite chuckled. “I always put ice cubes in your coffee.”

Flambae grinned. “I told tech support to switch all your devices to Norwegian.”

They laughed—really laughed—as they confessed their petty crimes, the tension finally melting away.

Still close. Still warm.

Their laughter faded as they realized how close they were. Their eyes met. Slowly, almost hesitantly, they leaned in—

Their lips met.

Then there is a crash

The freezer door was ripped open.

Cold air rushed out as firefighters stared at the scene in stunned silence. Flambae and Frostbite pulled apart instantly, wide-eyed.

One firefighter pinched the bridge of his nose. Exhausted. Resigned.

“Flambae.” He sighed. “Did you set another fire?”

-

After everything that had happened—that day and the many disasters leading up to it—Robert finally drew a hard line.

A meeting was scheduled.

In Blonde Blazer’s office, Robert sat stiffly beside her desk while the two so-called problem cases occupied the chairs across from them. Flambae lounged like he’d been dragged in against his will. Frostbite sat upright, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“So.” Frostbite finally asked, “what’s going on?”

Blonde Blazer folded her hands, voice calm and carefully measured. “We’ve received several complaints regarding the two of you working together. Specifically about how your powers are being used—against each other, or in ways that cause… unintended damage.”

Flambae rolled his eyes. “Not again.”

“We at SDN understand that not everyone will get along.” Blonde Blazer continued. “You don’t need to be friends. But you do need to be coworkers. Coworkers work together—not against each other.”

She glanced briefly at Robert.

“Robert believed placing you two on joint missions would resolve the tension.” She said gently. “Unfortunately, that hasn’t been the case.”

Robert cleared his throat. “Which is why we’ve decided you’ll be attending mandatory team-bonding sessions. Starting next Monday. An SDN mediator will monitor your progress.”

Flambae let out a short laugh and turned to Frostbite. “You hear that, darling?”

Robert frowned. “Darling?”

“This is ridiculous.” Frostbite said flatly. “You really think I can’t work with Mr. Hot Stuff over here?”

Blonde Blazer slowly turned toward Robert, eyebrows raised.

Robert opened his mouth.

Closed it.

“…W–What?”

“We had to skip a date for this.” Flambae complained, standing up. Frostbite rose with him, as does Frostbite. “All because you think we hate each other. You really are a dumbass.”

“Come on, Frosty.” Flambae added, slinging an arm around him. “Let’s grab some midnight tacos. And we could’ve gone bowling…”

“We could’ve gone bowling?” Frostbite shoots Robert a glare. “Thanks a lot, Rob-shit. I finally land a hot, genuinely great guy and my first date turns into eating shitty tacos.”

“B–But—!” Robert tried.

“Fucking ridiculous.” Flambae said cheerfully as they headed for the door. “Later!”

The door shut behind them.

Silence.

Robert stared at the empty doorway, soul visibly leaving his body.

Blonde Blazer turned slowly toward him. “…I thought you said they were going to kill each other.”

“They were.” Robert muttered, dragging his hands down his face. “And now they’re dating?”

He slumped back in his chair with an exhausted groan.

“How!?”

-

At 1:00 AM, Malevola’s phone buzzed violently on her nightstand.

She groaned, still half-asleep, tangled in her sheets and wearing nothing but her underwear. She ignored it.

The phone buzzed again.

And again.

“…You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She muttered.

With an angry growl, she yanked the phone off the nightstand and answered without checking the caller.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“You owe me twenty bucks, bitch!”

Malevola squinted at the screen. “…Prism?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” she snapped.

“Check. What. I. Sent.”

Grumbling, Malevola opened their chat and tapped the link Prism had sent. Instagram loaded, into Flambae’s account’s latest post.

‘Taco midnight date with my hot boyfriend @Frostbite. Blame @RobertRobertson.’

Below it was a photo of the two of them pressed together in a booth. Frostbite was holding the phone, cheeks faintly pink, while Flambae flipped the camera off with one hand and clutched a taco with the other.

The caption was followed by far too many hashtags, most of them aggressively anti-Robert.

Malevola stared.

Then groaned, throwing her head back against the pillow.

“…God. Damnit.”

She’d lost the bet.

Hey people, 2 weeks ago, I posted a list of the most popular Marvel characters based on how many likes set one-shot got. If you haven’t see it, feel free to do so.

However, in the list I quickly noticed how flawed it was. This is because the characters that got higher had one-shots uploaded that was released a lot earlier than others. Because of it, it’s inaccurate to call it a popularity list.

That’s why I got the idea to officially make a popularity poll. In this poll, you all can answer your favorite male Marvel characters, as well as chosen your one favorite character.

You will also be asked why you got a certain favorite character, as well any possible male Marvel characters which isn’t on the list of characters that are more well known.

Here’s the link:

Here’s a couple of things to note:

For the record, this is going to be a popularity poll for my community and possibly people outside of it.

This will be used purely for entertainment and to gather information. However, it probably won’t be used to determine which one-shots I write next, since I mostly write whenever I feel inspired by a specific character or when I receive requests.

I do plan on writing a longer multi-part series, similar to my College Marvel AU, and I haven’t decided on the main cast yet. So I’ll likely look at which characters turn out to be really popular—especially the ones I haven’t used in the College AU—and consider them for the new series.

If the results are interesting enough and enough people noted it down, I will publish the results.

The group of travelers explored the former town, now claimed by the Shadow Curse. With their guards up, they allowed no enemy to surprise them—not wraiths, corrupted bodies, or any other kind of monster.

As they moved through the town, Halsin, the first druid, frowned. It had once been beautiful and peaceful—plants everywhere, the sun shining bright, birds chirping, and people living tranquil lives.

“It’s such a shame this happened…” Halsin murmured. Some of his companions paused to look back at him, while others continued walking. “I remember when everything was normal. I used to visit here from time to time. I’d chat with the family who ran a pottery stall. They had the sweetest dog… That was just a couple of months before all of this went down.”

Gale shared Halsin’s sentiment. “All the more reason to defeat Ketheric.”

Halsin returned his focus to his team. Despite the pull of memories, he knew he could not dwell on the past. “Then let us continue—with haste.”

As they continued exploring, Halsin felt a presence nearby—not from the dead, but someone alive. He looked around but saw no one.

A few seconds later, Astarion raised his hand, signaling them to stop. “Enemy in sight.”

Everyone followed the rogue’s finger, spotting a man scavenging in a barrel. His back was turned, and the necrotic glow around him flickered unnaturally. It was clear he was not human.

Crouching, Astarion nocked an arrow and aimed with one eye closed. The moment he released the string, the man stepped back just in time, dodging the shot.

“Huh…!?” The necrotic figure took another step back. His glowing green eyes widened with fear. “Shit, shit, shit!” Terrified, the grey-skinned man fled.

As Astarion prepared another arrow, Karlach commented, “A bit of an unusual fellow…”

Halsin intervened, grabbing the arrow before it could fly. “He’s not like the rest.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What if he’s calling for reinforcements?”

“He looks scared to death. He isn’t like any of the husks we’ve fought before.” Halsin argued. Then, glancing back at his companions, he added. “Let’s follow him.”

The group gave chase. Despite having a head start, the stranger moved slowly. Some noticed it wasn’t that he was naturally slow—it was his body, gradually giving out.

After a minute, they reached the front of a house. The man collapsed on the dried grass of the front garden, panting painfully. He looked back at the group approaching him, terrified.

“Even now, he isn’t fighting back.” Shadowheart observed, feeling some pity for him.

Halsin approached slowly and calmly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He crouched down, meeting the man’s gaze. Behind the shadow-cursed eyes, Halsin saw a spark of life. “I’m Halsin, a druid. Can you tell me your name?”

After a pause, the man whispered. “…Y/N.”

“It’s good to meet you, Y/N.” Halsin said kindly, taking in his underfed form. Black veins crawled across his grey skin. “You’re suffering the Shadow Curse… does it hurt?”

Y/N nodded weakly. Halsin exhaled deeply. “We have a camp nearby. We can take you in.” Some of the team exchanged concerned glances. “I can tend to you there.”

“With all due respect, he won’t… turn into one of those monsters?” Wyll asked cautiously. “Not that it’s a problem, but—”

Halsin met his teammate’s gaze. “I understand your concern, but if we can save his life, it’s worth the risk.” He looked down at the man’s thin legs. “I suppose you aren’t in any state to walk?”

Y/N shook his head.

“It’s alright.” Halsin reassured him. He gently scooped the cursed man into his arms. “I’ll take you there. We have food, water, and everything you need to recover.”

Standing up, Halsin looked down at Y/N’s exhausted face. Despite the despair around him, he felt a sense of awe—finally, someone alive. He offered a soft, reassuring smile, easing some of the fear from the cursed man’s eyes.

-

Back at the camp, Y/N sat in the druid’s tent. Halsin was beside him, watching as the cursed man ate and drank the food he had been given. Seeing how fast he devoured it, the elf couldn’t help but wonder how long humans could endure such suffering.

“We’ve been blessed with a pixie, the Filigreed Feywild Bell, so that the Shadow Curse doesn’t fully consume us. That includes you as well.” Halsin explained, hoping to reassure Y/N. “You aren’t cured, but you won’t be completely overtaken by it. While we work to rescue the land, feel free to stay here.”

“Thank you…” Y/N murmured, still looking exhausted. “…What do you mean by ‘rescuing the land’?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of Ketheric Storm.” Halsin observed Y/N’s scowl and knew the elf recognized the name in some way. “Defeating him will cure the land. However, we are still searching for a way to overcome his invulnerability. It will take time, but at least here, you will be safe.”

Y/N nodded, quietly returning to his soup. Occasionally, his body twitched or flinched—subtle reactions to the Shadow Curse. Halsin could tell he was in pain.

“I can see you’re hurting.” Halsin said gently. “I know a way to stabilize the pain.”

Y/N looked up, intrigued. “A therapeutic ritual?”

“With Silvanus’ blessing. It will calm both body and mind.”

“…You can do that?”

Halsin gave a kind smile. “I will need to gather a few more ingredients for the ritual, but I’ll get them first thing tomorrow. At the earliest, expect it to happen then.”

While his expression remained largely neutral, Y/N looked slightly more hopeful. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” Halsin replied softly, maintaining his gentle smile.

-

The next night, Halsin returned to camp, worn out from the day’s trials and fights. He carried a basket of natural ingredients—special flowers, wood, and enhanced holy water. As he approached, the cursed man stood up.

“I hope you’re feeling better.” Halsin said.

“I do.” Y/N’s voice sounded more relaxed, and Halsin could tell he was improving. “Withers was pretty nice to talk to, even though he kind of looks… uhm…”

“Intimidating?” Halsin offered.

“I didn’t want to come off rude.” Y/N admitted. “Especially since he and all of you brought me here.”

“It’s fine. This group is used to throwing insults at each other.” Halsin chuckled. He held up the basket. “I found everything we need for the ritual today. There’s a lake nearby, so whenever you’re ready, we can go.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Can we go now?”

Thus, the two left the camp and walked through the quiet land. Though the camp wasn’t fully settled in the Shadow Curse territory, Y/N remained anxious, constantly glancing around. Despite Halsin’s reassurances, he couldn’t entirely ease his friend’s fear. The best he could promise was that any attacker would face his bear form.

When they reached the lake, fireflies danced above the water, and Halsin’s gentle light allowed them to see clearly.

“The ritual will illuminate the water. We don’t need to worry about ambushes.” Halsin said. “Besides, we’ve been through worse. Nothing dangerous walks here.”

“That’s good to know.” Y/N said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Do I need to help with the ritual?”

“I’ve got it covered.” Halsin reassured him with a smile, setting the basket down at the water’s edge. “To perform it, I need to enter the water myself as well. It’s simple. In fact, this is one of the first rituals I ever did.”

Hearing that, Y/N felt more at ease. Both men stripped down, leaving their clothes on a nearby rock. Stepping into the water, Y/N immediately recoiled.

“Shit… it’s cold…”

Halsin chuckled and stepped in without hesitation, holding the basket while wearing just his briefs. “It’s just a little chilly. Don’t worry—the ritual will warm it.” He glanced at Y/N. “Are you coming?”

With teeth clenched, Y/N entered the water, hissing at the cold. He quickly joined Halsin, letting the druid hold him for warmth, his body shivering slightly. The druid couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“I shouldn’t keep you waiting. Do me a favor and hold this.” Halsin said, handing over the basket.

The ritual began. Grabbing the ingredients from the basket, Halsin poured the holy water into the lake, followed by the wood and flowers, casting magic to enchant them. He sprinkled the ingredients around them in a circle. Finally, he held his glowing green hands aloft and began chanting the ritual words.

As the warm green and golden light spread, his voice deepened, resonating with the voice of the forest itself:

"Silvanus, pater silvae — audi preces nostras. Umbrae tangunt corpus, sed cor manet humanum. Per aquam sacram, per floram vivam, per pacem naturae — Expelle tenebras, sana vulnera, redde lumen in obscurum. Fiat purgatio. Fiat pax. Fiat lux."

The water began to glow—not the corrupted green Y/N was used to, but a natural, tranquil green symbolizing peace and life. Warmth spread over his lower body, easing his pain. Instinctively, the cursed man dropped the basket and sat in the water, letting it cleanse him.

“Holy shit… this is amazing…!” He breathed.

Seeing Y/N so alive and relieved, Halsin smiled, joining him by sitting down. “I’m glad it’s working.”

“Is there any chance we can bring an entire tub of this back to camp?” Y/N asked with a grin. “I could lie in it all day.”

Halsin laughed. “The ritual lasts about an hour, but we could get a tub and I could perform it again before leaving.”

Y/N’s grin widened. “That won’t be a problem with the ingredients?”

“Don’t worry. I have plenty left.” Halsin said. “It’s not hard to find them, but we should still use it sparingly. The ritual will ease your pain for a couple of days at least.”

“I guess I can settle for that. Not that I mind.” Y/N said, smiling. “And now I get an entire hour of relaxing with a guy I just met yesterday… almost naked and all.”

Halsin raised a teasing eyebrow. “You make it sound like that’s a problem.”

Y/N laughed, still looking at the druid. “Trust me, out of everyone I could bathe with, I’m glad it’s you.”

Halsin returned the smile, pleased to hear it.

-

It took a while before they discovered how to kill Ketheric Thorm, and defeating him took even more effort. But when he finally fell, the Shadow Curse broke. Slowly, the land began to heal back into its former glory.

While everyone celebrated their victory at Moonrise Towers, Halsin noticed Withers among the crowd, quietly enjoying the moment in his own… peculiar way. That made the druid wonder if Y/N was somewhere nearby as well. He began searching.

Eventually, Halsin stepped outside and found Y/N standing by the fence, watching the land that was already beginning to recover. As he approached, he heard a faint, strained hissing sound.

“Y/N…”

Y/N turned around. Despite the lingering discomfort on his face, his smile was warm. “Halsin… You did it. You all did it.”

Halsin returned the smile. “It was difficult, but we came out on top.” He moved to stand beside him, looking out over the transforming landscape. “We discovered there’s more to all of this. We’ll be traveling to Baldur’s Gate soon. But tonight—don’t let that distract from what we accomplished. We stopped the curse… and healed you.”

Before Y/N could respond, he hissed again and frowned down at his hands. Halsin’s eyes narrowed in concern.

“Is something wrong?”

“Y–Yeah, it’s just…” Y/N exhaled shakily. “About an hour ago, my body started… burning. Not painfully, but… weird.”

Halsin hummed thoughtfully. “It must have started once Ketheric fell. May I take a look?”

Y/N nodded and offered his arm. Halsin gently pulled back his sleeve—and his face lit up. The man’s skin was slowly regaining its natural color. The curse-blackened veins were shrinking, fading.

Halsin smiled. “Your body is purging the curse. You’re not in danger—though I’d like to stay close, just in case it acts up.”

“Seems fair.” Y/N said.

The druid’s eyes softened. “I don’t think you’ve spoken to the rest of the group yet. They deserve your thanks after everything they pulled off today.”

Halsin turned to head back inside, but Y/N’s voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

Halsin paused. Y/N looked nervous.

“Thank you.” He said quietly. “For letting me stay in your camp, for healing me… for everything. I thought I was going to die out there. But because of you… I actually feel hopeful.”

Halsin’s expression melted into a warm smile. “I’m more than happy to help.”

Y/N scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do now. I never thought this far ahead. But I was thinking… maybe I could travel with you all? I’m not a fighter, but I could help with camp—chores, gathering supplies, whatever you need.”

“You do realize things will be dangerous.” Halsin warned gently. “Even if you stay off the battlefield.”

“I know.” Y/N said, voice soft but steady. “But after what you did for me… I want to stay by your side.”

“Oh.” Halsin flushed slightly, though he tried to hide it behind a smile. “If that’s what you want, then I’d be glad to have you with us.” He paused, then added with a touch of teasing warmth, “After a day like this, I usually take a bath to clear my mind. And… I’d enjoy some company. Someone to help clean my back, perhaps.”

Y/N’s cheeks turned bright red. “O-Only if you do the same.”

After capturing another base, the trio — Deputy Y/N, Sharky, and Boomer — take some time to reload and cool down before the next mission. While resting, they sit at a pier overlooking the river. The deputy calmly pets the rescued dog, while his companion can’t help but talk nonstop.

“Dude, did you see how that guy got burned alive?” Sharky says with a gleeful smirk, recalling what he did during the base infiltration. “That was amazing! You thinking about getting that flamethrower yet?”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Uh… no.”

“No? Even after you saw what I did?” Sharky sounds surprised, clearly impressed with himself. “Man, I’m glad I brought an extra pair of underwear. I pissed myself when that fire chained over to those other freaks.”

Y/N looks weirded out. “…You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Why?” Sharky asks sincerely, making Y/N grimace. “I always bring an extra pair of underwear. Kept the old one in my pocket.” He pats his back pocket — a bit of old fabric poking out — which makes the deputy frown. “But that problem never happens back home. With all the bottles lying around, I can just use them.”

“…Use them for what?”

“To pee in, what else?” Sharky says casually. Y/N wonders what kind of man he’s teamed up with. “I’ve even got a whole closet full of ’em. Bit of a collection.” The man adds with a chuckle.

Y/N stays silent, unsure how to respond. Sharky, completely unfazed, turns to glance at him. The sun is setting, casting a warm light on the deputy’s face. The brunette can’t help but admire him for a moment.

“Ya a real cutie, deputy. How about I buy you a drink sometime?” he says, placing a hand on Y/N’s lap.

Y/N flinches and quickly pulls away. In an instant, the deputy stands up, startling Sharky.

“What did I do wrong!?” Sharky asks, confused.

“You’re just disgusting!” Y/N snaps, stepping back as Boomer rises to follow him. “Can’t you be normal?”

Feeling both embarrassed and rejected, the deputy walks away with his loyal companion. Sharky sits there, heartbroken, staring down at his hands. After a moment, he sniffs one and hums to himself in confusion.

“It doesn’t smell that bad.”

-

Ever since that brutal rejection, Sharky has felt only one thing: shame. Shame for who he is. For the legacy he’s lived. For what he likes. For not being normal.

And then it hit him — maybe that’s all he needs to be. Normal. That’s what Y/N wanted, right? And if that’s what the guy he likes wants, then he’ll be that.

So, Sharky decides to change his life. Goodbye, stained tank tops and ripped jeans — hello, clean white button-ups. His signature hat? Gone. His wild hair? Slicked back like some fancy businessman. To top it off, he borrows Hurk’s cologne and, to cover up his usual stench, sprays half the bottle on himself.

Now, all that’s left is to match his ‘normal’ look with a ‘normal’ personality.

Once he hears that Y/N is in Fall’s End, Sharky doesn’t waste a second. Together with his cousin, Hurk, he hops in a van and heads toward town under the pale glow of midnight. Hurk drives, glancing at his overdressed cousin with a mix of amusement and concern.

“Look, this is gonna backfire, bro.” Hurk warns. “You might look like some boring politician, but you ain’t that on the inside.”

“Look, I’m a different man now.” Sharky insists, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. “No more fire, no more skipping showers. I even threw away my fursuit.”

Hurk gasps. “You threw away your fursuit!? Dude, I thought you loved that thing!”

“I did.” Sharky admits solemnly. “But that’s the old Sharky. The new Sharky loves things like… uh…” He scratches the back of his slicked hair, searching for ideas. “Politics. And… the stock market. And the news. Yeah.”

Hurk stares at him blankly. “…You miss that fursuit, huh, Sharky?”

“Yes—No!” Sharky blurts out. “And don’t call me Sharky no more. It’s Charlemagne.”

Hurk snorts. “Whatever you say, Charlemagne. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

+

Once the two arrive in town, they go their separate ways. Sharky—or rather, Charlemagne—heads to the local pub where the deputy awaits. As he opens the door, he spots the man standing at the bar, sipping his beer.

With a huff, Sharky mentally prepares himself before walking forward. When he reaches the counter, he raises his hand. “A beer.”

Recognizing the voice, the deputy glances aside, only to look confused. “Sharky?”

“Ye—No. I’m Charlemagne.”

“Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

Sharky panics as Y/N turns back to his drink. “N-No, I mean, I am Sharky.” The deputy gives him a look, studying his oddly neat appearance, while Sharky keeps rambling. “But I’m now Charlemagne.”

“What happened to you?” Y/N asks genuinely. His nose then twitches, catching the overwhelming scent of cologne. “How much cologne did you use?”

“A lot! B-But not because I smelled bad! I shower every day, you know!”

Y/N raises a brow, clearly doubtful. “Okay…”

Once Sharky receives his beer, he drinks a bit too eagerly, then quickly corrects his posture and stands up straight. An awkward silence lingers between them, and Sharky feels he needs to make conversation.

“So… politics, huh?” he blurts out. Y/N glances sideways. “You’re happy with… it?”

The deputy raises an eyebrow. “You mean the cult, or the entire country?”

“Yes.”

Another awkward silence follows. Y/N takes another sip of beer before deciding to speak.

“Once those Peggies are gone, the world will be a lot better. That’s how horrible they are.” Y/N comments.

Sharky nods enthusiastically. “I especially look forward to the market. I believe it’ll do—uhm—better.”

“Better?”

“Yes. The stock market will do better. Like, that arrow goes up.” Sharky says, trying to sound confident. “And so do the numbers.”

“Yeah… I guess.” Y/N replies uncertainly, not sure what else to say.

Sharky senses the deputy isn’t much of an economics guy. Maybe he can switch topics—something more interesting.

“What do you think about the weather?” he asks, sounding oddly sincere.

Y/N looks thrown off. “…It’s nice.”

“Yeah. It’s hot, like fire.” Sharky immediately panics. “Not that I’d know! I hate fire. That’s just—uh—horrible! It’s just a normal sunny day. Well, now it’s night, so I guess it’s a normal… uh… moon-y day. Not arson moon-y day.”

“…Okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Sharky tries again. “So, uh… you ever think about how hot—I mean, warm—I mean temperature—like… soup?”

Y/N stares at him, completely lost. “Sharky, what the fuck is going on?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation!”

“Well, you talk a lot, but you don’t say anything.” Y/N retorts. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing! Just a simple lifestyle change. A normal lifestyle change.” Sharky insists. “See? I fixed my hair! I wear normal clothes! I’m clean!”

“And you’re freaking me out.” Y/N replies flatly.

“What did I do wrong now!? I fixed everything! I threw away my pee bottle collection!”

Heads turn as Sharky’s voice rises. “I wear clean boxers! I put on cologne! I showered today! I even threw out my flamethrowers and my fursuit!”

Y/N blinks. “You had a fursuit?”

“I had one—but now it’s in the trash!” Sharky’s voice cracks as he begins to sob. “I just wanted to be normal for you, but even that ain’t good enough! You just hate me!”

As tears spill down his cheeks, Sharky turns and runs out of the bar, leaving Y/N behind—feeling more than a little guilty.

-

“He’s just cooped up all day.” Hurk says as he and Y/N walk toward Sharky’s ‘house’ — a small cabin in the woods he found and decided to hole up in. “It’s like he’s lost all will to be himself.”

“I didn’t realize I hurt him that bad.”

“Sharky’s always been like that. Big heart, but easily broken.” Hurk explains. “I’m not here to guilt-trip you into being with him. Just try to be nice and patient, and help him get through this.”

“I will. Thanks.” Y/N nods.

Once at the front door, Hurk knocks. “Sharky? I brought someone to talk to you.”

There’s no response. “Sharky? C’mon, bro. Open up.”

He knocks harder, and the door creaks open — it was unlocked.

They hear crying coming from inside. The two men exchange a concerned look.

“I’ll leave you to him.” Hurk says. “Just… don’t be an asshole, man.”

“I won’t.”

Y/N steps inside and closes the door behind him.

It doesn’t take long before the stench of beer hits his nose. As the deputy walks forward, he enters the living room — and finds Sharky on the couch, wearing only his boxers, binge-eating ice cream and washing it down with beer. Empty bottles and tubs are scattered everywhere.

“Sharky?”

Sharky looks up, his face streaked with tears. He squints through his drunken haze, surprised. “Oh god… I’m seeing things again.”

“No, I’m the real Y/N.”

Y/N walks toward him and crouches down to meet his eyes. That’s when he notices a large blob of melted ice cream on Sharky’s chest.

“You, uh… got a lot of ice cream on your chest.” Y/N says carefully.

Sharky bursts into louder sobs. “I—I’m sorry!”

Y/N glances around awkwardly, unsure what to do as Sharky cries harder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” he says gently, placing a hand on Sharky’s shoulder. “C’mon. We’ll talk afterward.”

Sharky just hums through his tears.

+

After helping Sharky clean up a bit, the man reluctantly changes into some fresh clothes. The two of them return to the small living room.

The deputy, bothered by the sheer number of bottles and tubs scattered around, instinctively starts tidying up. He grabs a trash can and begins tossing the garbage into it.

All the while, he keeps glancing at the upset man. “You feeling better?”

Sharky stays silent, avoiding his gaze. “Why do you hate me?”

Y/N pauses mid-cleaning, then looks over at him. “I don’t hate you.”

“Yes, you do.” Sharky frowns. “You hate me when I’m me. You hate me when I act ‘normal.’”

“Sharky, what I really hate is…” Y/N searches for the right words. He glances around the trashed room and gestures vaguely. “...the fact you’re a slob.”

Sharky blinks at him in confusion. “Eh?”

“Sharky, you really expected me to be okay after you told me about your piss-bottle collection, admitted you change your underwear because you peed yourself, and then put your probably unwashed hands on me?”

“Well… uh—yeah?” Sharky sounds genuinely confused.

Y/N gives him a deadpan look. “Sharky, the only problem I have with you is your lack of hygiene. And I wish I could ignore that, because you’re a great, loyal guy—and you’re sweet.”

Sharky blushes faintly. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” Without thinking, Y/N keeps cleaning. “Not to mention you’re pretty handsome…” He mutters under his breath.

Sharky’s face lights up. Feeling bold again, he stands and blurts. “Then let’s go on a date!”

Y/N whips around. “Wait, wait, Sharky—!” Sharky stops, taken aback, as the deputy continues calmly, not beating around the bush.

“Before I answer, I just want to say one thing.” Y/N says firmly. “I cannot deal with your gross habits. I like things clean, so I’m not into guys who think it’s normal to pee in bottles.”

“Then I won’t!” Sharky promises quickly.

“Not just that.” Y/N holds up a hand, wanting him to slow down. “I expect you to shower or bathe every day.”

“Well, what if we’re out in the middle of nowhere?” Sharky asks.

“Fine—try to shower or bathe every day. Even if it’s in a river.” Y/N sighs. “I don’t want to deal with any of your piss-related problems. And no—it’s not normal to carry an extra pair of dirty underwear in your pocket. I just want some basic cleanliness, okay?”

Sharky raises a hand like he’s in class. “Can I still burn things for fun?”

“…As long as I don’t get burned and you don’t start a forest fire, fine.”

Sharky grins, then hesitates. “And… uh… about the fursuit…”

“Well… it’s not really my thing, but we’re in America. Feel free to be one.” Y/N says, trying not to laugh.

Sharky’s grin grows even wider. “Wait here! I’m gonna get mine back from the dumpster!”

As the brunette starts to walk off, Y/N calls out, “Sharky—wait, wait, wait!”

Sharky stops and looks back curiously.

“Remember what we talked about? The hygiene thing?”

It takes him a second to realize. “Ohhh… But it ain’t that bad. Probably just a few maggots I need to—”

Y/N shoots him a sharp look.

“No? Okay, fine, I’m not getting it. It’s fine.”

Y/N smirks, looking proud. “Well, since I’ve been kind of an ass to you… I think, as an apology, I owe you a date. And a new suit.”

Sharky beams with glee. “I already love you!”

As he rushes toward the deputy, Y/N’s face turns red. “Don’t say you love me—we haven’t even gone on a date—”

Before he can finish, Sharky kisses him. It’s long and hungry, leaving Y/N staring at him in stunned silence when it ends.

“Save the kissing for the date… Sharky.”

After the loss of Gustave, the group’s morale was at an all-time low. For the four remaining expeditioners, they had gained another ally in the form of Verso, a mysterious man who wasn’t too keen on sharing his past. Although desperate for any help they could get, the group harbored a certain level of distrust toward him—some more than others.

For Y/N, he generally gave Verso the benefit of the doubt. After losing almost everyone in Expedition 33, he would take any ally he could get. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what stranger’s deal was, though he guessed he would learn more about him over time.

What Y/N couldn’t learn from Verso through conversation, he observed in his actions. Verso was skilled, knowledgeable about the Nevrons and how to deal with them, and overall a powerful ally.

Yet, one thing struck Y/N as odd. Verso seemed unusually intent on keeping an eye on him. At first, Y/N thought it was in his mind, but he kept noticing small things the swordsman did—protecting him from dangerous blows, asking if he was alright more often than the others.

Finding it strange, Y/N decided to talk to him. Once they settled camp, they found a private spot to have a conversation.

“Is there something?” Verso asked.

“Just wondering.” Y/N began. “You seem very insistent on staying by my side.”

Verso raised an eyebrow. “Do I now?”

“I can give several examples. Today, the Nevron tried to slice me, and you stepped in front of me. After the battle, I was slightly hurt—but it’s nothing compared to Lune—and yet you asked me first if I was alright. Do I need to go on?”

Verso let out a soft hum. “Seems like I’m just a good guy, looking out for you.”

Y/N’s expression tightened, slightly annoyed by the casual dismissal. “Verso, I’m not in the mood to play games. You know I’m a capable fighter, so why are you so eager to look out for me?”

“Sounds like someone doesn’t appreciate having someone watch their back.” Verso replied calmly, as always.

“First of all, I’ve got three other people watching my back, and second, stop deflecting.”

“My apologies. I could always let you die if you want.” Verso teased.

Y/N frowned even further. “Verso—”

“Fine, fine. I’ll give you an answer.” Verso said, his tone calm, hoping to ease the other man’s concern. “I… just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Y/N looked confused. “Why me specifically?”

Despite his cool demeanor, Verso seemed bothered but didn’t want to show it. “It’s not just you. I do it for everyone. You only notice that I do it for you, but I do it for everyone. Just ask Maelle how many times we’ve chatted.”

Though there was some truth to his words, Y/N knew he was making excuses. Still, he believed Verso acted out of good intentions. Deciding to be the bigger man, he dropped the issue.

“Fine.”

-

A couple of days had passed, and Verso continued protecting and observing Y/N. At this point, the members of Expedition 33 stopped questioning it and simply accepted how things were. Not that it was a bad thing—after all, it meant a higher chance of survival.

The group had made their way to one of the Gestral beaches. Despite becoming somewhat accustomed to the Gestral’s unique culture, they remained stunned by the activities on the beaches. Whether it was performing absurd parkour over the sea, playing volleyball with flaming young Gestral, or, today, taking on a parkour challenge that defied gravity and stretched toward the clouds, it never failed to amaze them.

“And here I thought the first one was impressive.” Sciel commented as the group looked up at the massive parkour setup, made of everything and anything.

“If someone falls, they’re certainly dead.” Lune said without hesitation, glancing back at the group. “Let’s turn around. As much as I like the Gestrals, this isn’t worth it.”

Verso, however, looked intrigued. Without warning, he stepped forward.

Maelle’s eyes widened. “Verso, are you—?”

“Just a simple set of parkour.” Verso said, leaping to the first platform and glancing back. “Nothing too extreme.”

Monoco couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s the spirit!”

“As much as I respect your bravery, this isn’t something I’m risking my life on.” Sciel commented, while Lune, Maelle, and Y/N seemed to agree that it was somewhat foolish.

Verso didn’t seem bothered by their warnings. “I’ll be fine. Just wait a few minutes.” He turned around and continued jumping.

Lune sighed and looked at the rest of the team. “Seems like we’re stuck here waiting.”

Maelle glanced at the water, then at the beach where Esquie was waiting. A smile spread across her face as she got an idea. “I know this isn’t the best time, but since Verso is basically taking some time off, why don’t we do the same?”

Y/N seemed to catch on. “You want to swim?”

“Yes.” Maelle said softly, smiling.

Although amused, Lune remained the pragmatic one of the group. “Not to rain on your parade, but isn’t it smarter if we do something useful?”

“Swimming is useful.” Maelle pointed out. “What if poor Esquie loses his stones again? Then we’d have nothing but ourselves to rely on while swimming.”

Lune couldn’t help but chuckle. “I suppose that’s true. Fun at the beach it is.”

“I’m not really a fan of swimming.” Sciel admitted, sounding a bit less cheerful than usual. “I’ll stay on the shore if that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all.” Y/N assured. “Now, let’s swim!”

After changing, the group was all in their swimwear. They remained near the shore, swimming in the shallower parts. Y/N, Maelle, and Lune swam with smiles on their faces, as did Esquie, though he moved a lot slower. On top of Esquie were Monoco and Sciel, enjoying the sun and cool air more than the water itself.

Eventually, Y/N climbed out of the water and sat on Esquie’s back, wanting a break. Joining his two teammates, he settled down.

“Enjoying a day in the sun?” Sciel asked.

“Feels refreshing to swim for fun. If it weren’t for the Gommage, I’d do this all day.” Y/N answered.

As the group continued chatting about trivial things, time passed. Eventually, Y/N looked back at the tower on the Gestral beach, pondering something.

“Where do you think Verso is now?”

“Knowing him, he probably fell a few times.” Monoco commented with a chuckle.

Sciel laughed. “As long as he doesn’t break his neck. But I suppose if he’s immortal, that won’t be a problem.”

“Right.” Y/N hummed, looking back at the rest of the group, specifically at Monoco. “You’ve known Verso for years, right?”

“Yes.” He replied.

“I’ve noticed Verso is really eager to watch over me—protecting me from incoming blows, checking if I’m hurt, things like that.” Y/N explained. “Do you have any idea why?”

Monoco thought for a few seconds. “Not that I know of.”

“Maybe he just really likes you?” Sciel suggested with a smirk.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Like as friends, or as more?”

“More.” She replied. “It would make sense. You’re the only guy, and it’s not like he treats Lune or me the way he treats you.”

Monoco couldn’t help but interject. “Wait, are you suggesting that I’m not in his league?”

“Oh?” Sciel looked amused. “A love triangle? Spicy.”

Y/N chuckled and looked to Monoco for confirmation. “Well, Monoco? Got a clue that Verso is into guys?”

Monoco thought for a few seconds before answering. “I guess I heard him saying he thought some men in his old expedition were cute, but I always assumed he was joking.”

Sciel smiled. “That settles it. Y/N, make sure to invite us all to the wedding.”

“Oh, stop it.” Y/N said, feeling slightly flustered. “That’s not going to happen.”

“What’s not going to happen?”

Y/N flinched and instantly turned around, spotting Verso in his tight swimsuit, dripping wet. “Oh my—how long have you been listening?”

“Almost everything.” Verso commented dryly.

Sciel smirked. “Is it true, then?”

Verso paused for several seconds, thinking, which made Y/N even more flustered—he knew it was on purpose.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“That’s not a no.” Sciel remarked.

Y/N shot him a deadpan look. “Are you ever going to give a straight answer?”

“Don’t expect a straight answer ever from him.” Monoco warned.

Verso looked seriously at Y/N. “If you really want to know, we can talk back at camp.”

Feeling like he was being deliberately delayed again, Y/N sighed. “Fine.”

“Good. Now, before anyone says anything else, I’m going back swimming.” Without warning, Verso turned and jumped into the water.

During the whole conversation, Sciel was thoroughly amused. “How bromantic.”

Y/N frowned at her. “Don’t you start teasing me too.”

-

Late at night, the gentle and calm piano tune could be heard drifting through the air. Curious, Y/N walked toward the cliff’s edge, spotting Esquie sitting on the grass, looking as happy as ever. At the very end of the cliff, Verso was playing a piano.

Quietly, Y/N approached his teammate. Once standing beside the piano, Verso finished his melody and stopped, glancing to the side.

“You came.”

Y/N hummed quietly. “I didn’t know you played piano.”

“It’s something I enjoy. My family preferred that I painted, but I vastly prefer music.” Verso made room on the seat and tapped it with his hand. “Sit.”

Curious, Y/N joined him, sitting beside Verso. Since the chair was small, they had to snuggle a bit. While Verso didn’t seem to mind, Y/N couldn’t help but feel flustered.

Without warning, Verso began playing another song. Gentle and sweet, it carried a peacefulness without being somber. Unbeknownst to them, Esquie was dancing nearby.

“…About what happened at the beach.” Y/N awkwardly began. “You were joking, right?”

Still focused on the piano, Verso replied. “About what?”

“The whole ‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.’” Y/N clarified. Verso hummed softly, looking serious—almost vulnerable. Y/N’s heart leapt with realization. “You do, huh?”

Slightly looking away, Verso took a second to meet Y/N’s gaze. “You don’t realize what you mean to me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing—just—” Verso let out a tired sigh. “It’s nothing.” Before Y/N could respond, the pianist spoke again. “I care about you… a lot. I know it’s sudden, but…”

For the first time, Y/N saw Verso at a loss for words. With a soft smile, he placed a hand on Verso’s hip. The pianist glanced at him but continued playing.

“I care about you too.” Y/N said softly.

Verso looked away, a hint of fear in his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Gently, Y/N rested his head on Verso’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Verso continued playing, focused as ever.

“Do you think we’ll succeed in taking down the Paintress?” Y/N suddenly asked.

“Yes. It’ll be hard, but… we’re going to do it.” Verso said with quiet determination.

Hey, hope you’re all doing good, and I hope you enjoy reading the stories I create. Anyway, for whatever reason, I had a dream that I should do a Q&A on my page. Not sure why, but I decided it’s a good idea. I’m not sure if people will give me enough questions to actually do this, but I guess we’ll see.

If enough people send in questions, I’ll make a page where I post all the questions and answers. I think it’s best to keep the questions anonymous unless people specifically want their names included.

I’m open to all kinds of questions, as long as they don’t revolve around exposing my personal identity or anything like that. Also, nothing too controversial where people start giving others (or me) a hard time. In other words, I hate the current internet age 😊.

Word Count: 2295 At Vice, Cole was the hotshot of the entire department. Not just Vice, but the whole police force. People kept gasping when they saw him, whispering that he was the cop from the papers. While Phelps didn’t really think of himself as a celebrity, the truth was he’d become a kind of micro-celebrity, and the public was curious about what major case he would solve next.

Cole was one of the strongest men in L.A. From soldier to detective, he seemed almost unstoppable. And yet, he had one weakness—one he would never admit to and never show… not yet.

While working with his partner Roy, the two sat at their desks, going over evidence for their current case.

“You ever wonder how the family would react to someone they know dying of an overdose? Must be so embarrassing for the parents.” Roy said callously.

“Maybe you should go to the funeral then, if you think about it that much.” Cole replied, a little too seriously.

As they continued working, Cole glanced toward the hallway—only to freeze. Walking by was someone he knew all too well. One of his former partners from Homicide: Y/N.

“Y/N?”

The detective looked back, a smile spreading across his face. Roy looked up, curious, as the man walked toward Cole.

“Cole. I was hoping to see you here.”

“What’s the pleasure?”

“I got promoted.” Y/N said proudly. “I’m working with you.”

“Really?” Cole’s face lit up. He stood, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder. “Congratulations! I always knew there was potential in you.”

“Thanks. I’m going to find out who my new partner is. Hoping it’s someone nice—but I’ve settled for less before.” Y/N teased. “Anyway, we should grab a drink to celebrate. You in tonight?”

“Count me in.”

“Good.” Y/N glanced at Cole’s cluttered desk before smiling again. “Anyway, I shouldn’t keep you up. See you later.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

As Y/N walked away, Cole kept smiling as he sat back down. While trying to stay focused on the case, he couldn’t help but feel happy. Roy, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up.

“You might as well kiss him.”

Cole’s frown was instant. He turned to his partner. “Earle, what are you talking about?”

“You looked very happy to see him.” Roy’s grin was smug, his tone mocking. “It’s like old lovers reuniting. How romantic.”

Cole scoffed. “If you think that’s what’s going on, that says more about you than me.”

Roy chuckled, shrugging as he turned back to the evidence. “Fine. Have fun drinking with your buddy. Just make sure to invite me to the wedding.”

Cole ignored him, forcing himself to focus on the case file in front of him. But the happiness he’d felt a moment before was quickly replaced with unease. Deep down, he knew why—though he didn’t want to admit it. So he buried his feelings, the only way he knew how.

-

After a long day of work, Cole and Y/N returned to the Vice detective’s desk before heading out together to a local bar near the station.

Inside, the air was thick with the stench of booze, the low hum of chatter, and jazz music crackling faintly from a radio in the corner. Patrons were laughing, drinking, losing themselves in the night.

The two detectives slid into a booth and ordered their drinks. While waiting, they chatted. Cole, recalling Roy’s earlier comments, couldn’t help but feel that same warmth creep back in.

“Who’d you get partnered with?” Cole asked.

“Guy called Dave Bailey. Seems decent enough, so I’m not complaining.” Y/N replied, then smirked. “Kinda wish we could’ve been partners, though.”

Cole smiled. “You’d be a hell of a lot better than the guy I’m with now.”

“Yeah?” Y/N leaned in a little closer, eager for details.

“Yes. Earle can get on my nerves sometimes.”

“So he’s a dick.” Y/N concluded when Cole stayed quiet. “C’mon, Cole, you can swear with me.”

It wasn’t really Cole’s style to curse about people he worked with—but staring at Y/N’s face, he decided to let it slip. “He’s an asshole.”

“There you go!” Y/N grinned, raising his glass once the drinks arrived. Cole gave a soft smile in return.

The waitress set the drinks down, and Y/N thanked her before lifting his glass toward Cole. “To your asshole partner!”

Cole chuckled, clinking his glass against Y/N’s. “I’d rather celebrate your promotion.”

Y/N laughed at that, the sound carrying warmly between them.

-

They both knew one of them had to stay sober to get home. While Cole had offered to stay clean, Y/N insisted his former partner should let loose for once.

So, after a night of drinking, the two men left the bar and made their way to Cole’s car.

“You sure you’re alright?” Y/N asked, keeping Cole steady with an arm around his neck.

“I’m more than fine. I’m perfect.” Phelps replied gleefully, his words carrying a little too much cheer.

Y/N chuckled. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

At the car, Y/N opened the door and carefully guided Cole into the passenger seat. After closing it, he rounded the hood and slid into the driver’s side, glancing at his friend slouched beside him.

“Alright.” Y/N muttered, gripping the wheel. “Not sure how I’m supposed to get you home in your car…” He sighed. Maybe he should’ve brought his own, but it was too late to dwell on it.

He started the engine, then realized something. “Cole, where do you live again?”

“In L.A.” Cole answered proudly.

Y/N laughed under his breath. “I mean, where’s your house?”

“In Los Angeles.”

“You’re a lost cause.” Y/N said with a playful roll of his eyes as he pulled out onto the street. “You’re sleeping on my couch tonight, pal. Let’s hope you don’t wake up with a hangover.”

-

Back at Y/N’s apartment, the two men stumbled inside. Cole struggled with his steps, but with Y/N’s steadying hand, he managed to make it to the couch.

“You want some water?” Y/N asked.

“Yes.” Cole slurred, slumping against a pillow, though still upright.

Y/N went to the kitchen, filled a glass, and returned. He handed it over, only for Cole to miss his mouth and spill it down the front of his shirt.

“Oh.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay.” He took the glass, set it on the coffee table, and crouched beside his friend. “I’ve got some clothes you can borrow, but for now, let’s just get you settled.”

He patted the pillow and helped Cole tug off his shoes. Without thinking much about it, Cole started unbuckling his pants with a little too much enthusiasm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow but sighed, chalking it up to the whiskey. “Alright, alright…” He helped Cole drag the pants down before the detective smirked and shrugged off his jacket, then fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

“You don’t have to strip down to nothing.” Y/N muttered. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better.” Cole said—and then, without warning, leaned in to kiss him.

Y/N froze, pulling back quickly. “Cole, what are you—?”

Cole’s hands fumbled clumsily at Y/N’s belt. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Cole…” Y/N’s voice dropped, uncertain. “You do realize I’m a man, right?”

“I know.” Cole’s smile only widened, his excitement obvious.

“…And you’re married.” Y/N reminded him.

“But I want you.” Cole said innocently, his tone more boyish than calculating. Then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Or… are you really normal?”

Y/N understood exactly what he meant. His answer came quietly: “I’m just like you.”

Cole’s grin softened into something warmer. “Then let’s do it. Please…”

Y/N hesitated, torn. But staring at Cole’s eager, drunken face, he finally gave in. He stopped Cole’s clumsy hands and guided his arm around his shoulders.

“Come on.” Y/N said. “Let’s get you to my bed.”

-

The next morning, sunlight spills through the curtains. With pained murmurs, Cole slowly begins to wake. His head throbs, his body aches, but the soft bed beneath him feels oddly comforting.

As he comes to, he realizes this isn’t his bedroom. The place is unfamiliar, and panic rises in his chest. Even worse—he can’t feel any clothes on his body. The thought hits him like a punch: he cheated. He’s betrayed Marie… and his daughters.

Heart pounding, Cole turns his head, only to find he isn’t lying next to a woman. No—he’s lying next to a man. Y/N.

Cole bolts upright, scrambling out of the bed. “What the hell!?”

The outburst jolts Y/N awake, startled by Cole’s reaction. Instinctively, Y/N covers his crotch. “What the hell happened!?”

Cole stares, horrified. “You—you wanted to sleep with me!” Y/N says, clearly concerned.

“Me!?” Cole gasps in disbelief. His eyes dart around until he spots his underwear on the floor. Snatching it up, he yanks it on with trembling hands. “Why the hell would I want to sleep with you!? I—I’m not into men! I’m not a fruit!”

Y/N sits up quickly, glaring now. “You told me last night you knew you were going to sleep with me!”

“Really?” Cole shoots back, doubt dripping from his voice. “How do I know you didn’t take advantage of me!?”

Y/N’s eyes harden. “Cole, what the fuck!?”

He throws the blanket aside, reaching for his own underwear on the floor. Meanwhile, Cole hurriedly pulls on his shirt and tie, still frantically searching for his pants and jacket.

“Don’t accuse me of that.” Y/N snaps. “You kissed me first! You wanted it!”

“Why the hell would I want that!?” Cole shouts, almost frantic. “I’m normal!”

“Funny.” Y/N retorts coldly. “Because last night you asked me if I was normal. Turns out, neither of us are.”

Cole freezes, avoiding Y/N’s eyes, his throat tightening. Silence stretches until he finally mutters, “I need a fucking cigarette.”

Without a word, Y/N walks to the nightstand, opens the drawer, and pulls out a pack along with a lighter. He tosses both onto the bed.

“I’ll make some breakfast. Calm the hell down.”

Y/N gathers his clothes from the floor while Cole hastily lights up. The smoke fills his lungs, but it does little to steady his nerves. Pacing the room, cigarette trembling between his fingers, his mind spirals over the night before.

Some minutes pass before Cole finally leaves the bedroom and steps into the living room. He spots Y/N in the kitchen, already dressed and cooking omelets. Phelps keeps his distance, his posture stiff and guarded.

“You’re in the mood for an omelet?” Y/N asks.

“…Fine.” Cole mutters.

He notices his pants, shoes, and jacket neatly laid across the couch. Walking over, he begins dressing piece by piece. Meanwhile, Y/N finishes the omelets, places them on slices of bread, and carries two plates to the coffee table. He sets them down with knives and forks.

“Enjoy.” Y/N comments, his tone stoic.

Cole sits on the couch and picks up the utensils, awkwardly stabbing at the food. “…Thank you.”

Y/N takes a seat in the chair beside the table. The silence between them is heavy, charged. Cole feels the weight of words pressing on his chest but struggles to release them.

“…I’m sorry for… uhm…” His voice trails off. Y/N glances up. “…Accusing you of… you know.”

“…Apology accepted.” Y/N says simply. He cuts into his omelet and takes a bite before speaking again. “But I want to know what’s going on with you, Phelps.”

Cole exhales shakily. “…I’m not sure I even know what’s going on with myself.” He stares at his plate. “I… I feel one way, when I know I shouldn’t.” Slowly, his eyes lift to Y/N. “…What about you?”

“I’ve known for a long time.” Y/N admits. “But this stays between us. No one else.”

“…Thank you.” Cole swallows hard, genuinely moved. “…I never met someone like you.”

“A fruit?” Y/N teases, though his voice is soft.

“…Yes.” Cole says awkwardly. He fidgets with his fork. “I keep telling myself I need to be perfect. Normal. A perfect detective, a normal man with Marie and my daughters.”

Y/N hums thoughtfully. “But what do you want?”

Cole hesitates. “…Honestly? I still want to be the perfect detective.” His face tightens, vulnerable now. “But… being with you, compared to Marie… it’s different. Better. Feels like it’s supposed to be.”

Y/N’s lips twitch into a small smile, warmed by Cole’s words despite the man’s nerves. “Yeah… it does feel like it’s supposed to be.”

Cole looks away, unsure. “…I don’t know what to do now. About us.”

“There’s no turning back.” Y/N says firmly. “We could stay just friends, go back to work, pretend nothing happened. …Or we can see where this goes.”

Cole arches a brow. “…Like a couple?”

“Maybe.” Y/N shrugs lightly. “I know you’ve got a wife and kids you love. If you don’t want this, I’ll understand. I just think it’s time you understood yourself.”

Cole hums quietly, pushing his food aside. His appetite is gone. “…I don’t know. I just… I want to see you again.” The words come out rough, difficult.

“We can take it slow.” Y/N assures. “See what you’re comfortable with.”

“…That would be great.” Cole murmurs.

-

After finishing breakfast, both men quietly prepare themselves for the day’s work. Soon, they head out to the car. Cole still looks pale and worn, but he follows Y/N’s lead, sliding into the passenger seat. Y/N takes the wheel of his friend’s car.

“Y/N.” Cole says, glancing sideways. His voice is low, almost cautious. “Last night… was fun.”

A small smile tugs at Y/N’s lips. “There’s more where that came from.”

Word Count: 2730

“Some of us are just born brilliant, Gale.”

“Brilliance without discipline is just a firework. Pretty. Brief. Ultimately pointless.”

“Oh, like your studying?”

“You must have had something terrible happen during your childhood to not understand the basic concept called development.”

Another night, another time for the local wizard and sorcerer to banter about who’s the better spellcaster. While the group of adventurers was known to have some issues with each other, at least they came from different cultures, religions, or personalities. However, everyone in the group agreed that the banter between Gale and Y/N was just petty.

“It’s kinda sad that no matter how much you try to learn, you can never be as good as me.” Y/N comments, as he and Gale sit at the campfire.

Gale scoffs. “As good as a wild magic sorcerer? My deepest apologies, but I already surpassed you long ago.”

“Oh really?” Y/N dares. “Can you turn a goblin into a puddle of mud? Or make a Tiefling get naked?”

Gale becomes flustered, finding the examples utterly ridiculous. “First, if I really wanted to, I could get a Tiefling naked, even without magic. Secondly, what is the point of these bizarre effects on people?”

“It’s helpful.”

“It’s helpful to cause something utterly random and without reason, nor intended to happen?” Gale raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Y/N says with full confidence. “Remember when that Tiefling became totally flustered over what happened, during which Karlach could easily steal the kill? That’s because of me.”

“She could’ve done that without you.”

“Yeah, but it would’ve been a lot harder without that opportunity.”

Gale can’t help but feel like he’s sometimes arguing with a brick wall. “Look, there is absolutely no way I can accept someone who casts spells with totally arbitrary effects as better than the average wizard.”

“Oh, yeah? Prove it.” Y/N dares.

Gale can’t help but smirk. “You dare me to a magic duel?”

“Not just that. Magic isn’t just about fighting.” Y/N quickly thinks of what this bet could entail. “We’ll have three rounds. First, we find some nobodies and see who can kill the most of them. Second, we face a problem that we have to solve with practical magic. Lastly, we have to impress some people with our magic—people in the group, for example.”

Already feeling confident he’s going to win, Gale accepts the duel. “And when you lose, will you finally admit I’m the better spellcaster?”

“If I lose, which I won’t because I’m better.” Y/N casually responds.

Gale scoffs. “We’ll see.”

Meanwhile, a couple of feet away in the dark, Lae’zel and Karlach are doing some pre-bed workouts together. However, with the banter going on, the Tiefling can’t help but look back at the two men.

“They’re still at it?”

Lae’zel is quick to comment. “They’re k’chakhi. What do you expect?”

-

The next day, Gale and Y/N finally had the chance to settle their bet. Together, they approached a small goblin camp the group had spotted a few days ago. From a small cliff overlooking the camp, the two magic users sized each other up.

“There are just around twenty goblins. We can kill them easily.” Y/N commented. “Once everyone is dead, we count the corpses each of us made. Whoever made the most wins the first round.”

“Fine by me.” Gale replied without hesitation. “Whenever you’re ready to lose.”

Y/N smirked. “Then I guess we will not do it—but since I want to belittle your entire existence as a wizard, I’m ready to turn you into dust.”

The two then began their onslaught. They started by sending basic spells into the camp, provoking the goblins to attack. Gale cast Grease, while Y/N unleashed a Stinking Cloud. With these small contraptions in place, they proceeded to take down the goblins.

Gale set enemies ablaze with fire spells, whether it was a basic cantrip like Fire Bolt or something stronger like Fireball. Y/N, however, relied on ice spells to make the goblins slip, throwing Bursting Sinew at clusters of enemies. With a mix of magic and luck, chaos reigned over the camp.

In the end, the entire goblin camp was annihilated. The battlefield was a mess of ice and fire. Still, the two spellcasters began counting their scores. It didn’t take long before Gale smiled at his opponent.

“Look at that. You lost—and by a good margin, too. Ouch.” Gale said, rubbing it in. “How embarrassing.”

“Is your ignorance being compensated by your basic understanding of the truth?” Y/N shot back. “There were twenty-six in total. I defeated eighteen of them.”

Gale frowned. “Can you even count? I defeated sixteen of them.” He pointed to the groups of goblins he considered his kills. “Killed them. They died. Burned them—”

“Burned them?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, looking at the corpses turned to ash. “I was the one who killed them. They all surrounded the guy in the center, whose corpse I exploded. The rest died because of that.”

“No, no, no.” Gale shook his head. “They burned to death. They were burning before you exploded that one guy. Now they’re merely ash, meaning I killed them.”

“Just because they turned to ash doesn’t mean you killed them.” Y/N argued. “For example, imagine I bash your head and crush your skull.” Gale frowned but was entertained. “You would die, and afterward I let Scratch and the Owlbear cub play with your corpse. Then I burn it, and you turn to ash. Now Gale, did the fire kill you?”

“I’m 100% certain that the fire killed those goblins before your explosion.” Gale pushed back.

“And I can say the same about my explosion.”

With a stalemate, both men knew the other wouldn’t back down. They could argue about who was right forever. Then Gale had an idea.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. This is not me admitting defeat. However, considering your complete stubbornness, I suggest we ignore the endless cycle of bickering and call it a draw. We can move on to the next round.”

After a few seconds of thought, Y/N nodded. For the first time in a long while, he heard some reason from the wizard. “I guess I can kick your ass in the other rounds.” He said.

-

Round 2: Using Magic to Solve a Problem.

The challenge was simple: using utility magic, they had to solve a practical problem one might encounter during an adventure. It took a while for something truly interesting to present itself—until they came across a large broken bridge spanning a deep cliff.

Later that day, Gale and Y/N returned to the site. Standing at one side of the cliff, both men surveyed the gap below. Planks lay scattered at the bottom. They turned to look at each other.

“I suppose you already have an idea of how to fix this.” Gale commented.

“Sure do.” Y/N smirked. “I expect you to as well.”

“You got that right.” Gale replied. “How about I go first? Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from me.”

“The only thing I’ll learn is to do the opposite of you.” Y/N shot back snarkily.

Instead of engaging in another round of bickering, Gale decided to show off. Confidently, he moved his hands and cast Telekinesis. With grace, he lifted the broken planks and placed them where they belonged. Then, using his other hand, he cast an ice spell to fuse the planks together and anchor them to the cliff sides. A thick layer of ice underneath stabilized the makeshift bridge.

“There. Simple.” Gale smirked and confidently stepped onto the bridge, even stamping his foot to prove its stability. “And to your misfortune, I’m not falling to my death.”

Y/N rolled his eyes as Gale walked across. On the other side, the wizard took a bow, presenting his work. “I’m eager to see what lesser solution you’ll provide. Speaking of which…” He flicked his finger, melting the ice. The planks fell back to the bottom of the cliff. “Your turn. Best of luck.”

Y/N shrugged. “Very well. Wait, I kinda need you for something.”

“Oh, are you going to make a bridge out of my corpse?” Gale suggested.

“No. Something more practical. Wait there.”

The sorcerer used Misty Step to reach Gale on the other side of the cliff, who took a step back, confused. “What are you—?”

Gale fell silent as Y/N cast Dimension Door, instantly teleporting them both back to the original side. Gale looked around, bewildered, before realizing what had happened.

“That’s your solution?” Gale asked. “Just teleportation? The challenge was to build a makeshift bridge.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Y/N said calmly. “The challenge was to find the best way to cross the cliff. Turns out teleportation is easy.”

Gale frowned, clearly annoyed at being outsmarted. Still, he had one point to argue. “Even if that’s true, Dimension Door only works for yourself and one other person. Clearly, my bridge is more practical for the whole party.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t specified.” Y/N said casually, further annoying Gale. “It was never mentioned how many people had to cross.”

“Well—well—well…” Gale stuttered, frustrated. “It was obvious you’d interpret it as making a bridge for the entire team!”

“Really?” Y/N shrugged. “That’s on you.”

Gale’s frustration grew. “Look, you might be more ‘practical,’ but my solution works for the whole group.”

“Fun for you. Mine works for me and one other.” Y/N replied.

Both solutions had their merits—Gale’s for a large group, Y/N’s for a quick, efficient method for two people. The wizard sighed, realizing this was another stalemate, much like the first round.

“For the sake of our sanity, I suggest we call it a draw. The rules weren’t specific enough.”

After a moment, Y/N agreed. “…Fine. At least we still have the final round.”

“Which can’t be a draw.” Gale added. “Since there will be only three judges.”

“Which means you lose.” Y/N said smugly.

Gale scoffed. “We’ll see.”

-

It was the final round. At the camp during nighttime, Gale and Y/N were ready to impress the judges. They had chosen three judges: Astorion, Karlach, and Lae’zel.

On a grassy field, the three judges stood on the side, some more impatient than others. In front of the two spellcasters, the competition was about to begin.

“Tas’ki. Hurry up. I have better things to do.” Lae’zel said with a frown.

“This will only take a minute or two.” Gale assured. “Now, before we start, we ask that you observe our skills with an understanding of how impressive each of our work is. This could be based on the difficulty of the spell, how awed you are, or any other reason.”

“Sounds fun.” Karlach said with a smile. “Show me what you can do.”

Gale nodded. “Very well.”

The wizard lifted his hands, casting a flurry of lights. Soon, the entire environment transformed. The sky became a dazzling aurora, dotted with cosmic stars. The grassy field morphed into a peaceful forest. Though dark, fireflies flitted around, providing plenty of light. Little woodland creatures—rabbits and squirrels—darted about, creating a tranquil scene.

“Oh man!” Karlach couldn’t help but grin widely. “This is… gorgeous!”

Astorion and Lae’zel looked around as well, though their expressions were less impressed.

“I would give you more credit if it were more real. After all…” Astorion picked up a rabbit by its neck. “I don’t feel anything when I do this.” He then broke the illusion by clenching his hand, killing the illusionary rabbit.

“It’s nothing more than a pretty sight.” Lae’zel commented. “I’m not one for pretty sights.”

While Gale was taken aback by the response, Y/N smirked. “Turns out people don’t really care about tricks. I mean…” He ignited his right hand and slapped Gale’s butt with it. With a yelp, the wizard grabbed himself. The distraction caused the entire illusion to vanish. “See? So easy to make it disappear.”

Gale huffed. “Oh, and you think you can do better? Half the time, you cast random spells you aren’t even aiming for.”

“Don’t worry. I know exactly what I’m doing this time.” Y/N looked at the judges. “Now, everyone, I can see illusions aren’t really your forte. I can tell you prefer seeing something real.” He stepped next to Gale with a mischievous smirk, causing the wizard concern. “Now, let me show you what I can make real.”

Without warning, Y/N’s hand glowed and touched Gale’s shoulder. The wizard’s clothing shone brightly for a moment—and then the light vanished. But it wasn’t just the glow that disappeared.

“Oh.” Astorion looked up and down, intrigued. “Now this is what magic should be about.”

Gale looked down in shock, realizing all his clothes were gone. “What in—!?”

He quickly covered himself with his hands and hastily cast an illusion to restore some modesty. Annoyed, he glared at the grinning sorcerer.

“Where are my robes?!”

“I dunno. Wild magic.” Y/N replied casually.

“Tsk’va! Is this supposed to be your magic?” Lae’zel asked.

“Yes.” Y/N said. “Please, clap.”

Gale’s frown deepened. “I’m about to clap you to death.”

“C’mon, Gale, there’s no shame.” Y/N said with a grin.

With a gleam of revenge in his eyes, Gale quickly cast another spell. Using a fire cantrip, he incinerated the sorcerer’s remaining robes. Y/N yelped in shock, quickly covering his crotch as his clothing fell away.

Astorion laughed, clearly entertained, while Karlach and Lae’zel just looked on, bewildered. “Oh, I should’ve studied magic when I had the chance.” Astorion commented with amusement.

“Well, Y/N?” Gale put his hands on his hips, pleased that Y/N had never focused on illusion magic like he had. “Since you’ve undressed so many men, it only seems fair that it’s your turn to become naked.”

Y/N frowned. “Oh yeah?” With a smirk, he cast a minor spell to disrupt Gale’s concentration, breaking his illusion and leaving the wizard naked as well. “Well, that’s both of us now!”

“Can you two stop!?” Karlach shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos as the voice of reason. “You’re both incredibly talented magic users! It’s amazing every time one of you uses magic to help us or kill an enemy. You’re both incredible in your own ways, and somehow, both of you are too stupid to realize it. You should realize you’re better working together than against each other.”

With a huff, Karlach walked away, having made her point. Lae’zel quickly followed suit. “You k’chakhis will only bring us closer to Vlaakith.” She muttered, storming off.

Astorion remained behind, smirking. “I’ll just leave you two to have your fun. Gale… make sure to cast Grease before the fun starts.” With that, the vampire walked away, satisfied.

With both men still covering their crotches, they looked at each other, embarrassed.

“I suppose our petty feud should end…” Gale spoke up. “And for a sorcerer, you aren’t that bad.”

Y/N hummed. “And for a wizard, you’re pretty good… all things considered.”

They exchanged awkward glances, though it seemed the moment brought them closer after some scolding.

“So… to show off your magic, you wanted to expose me?” Gale asked.

“Felt like I should put you on the spot.” Y/N replied. “Speaking of which… deepest apologies for your robes. If I knew where they were, I would’ve fetched them… and your underwear.”

“Apology accepted.” Gale said. “If I could undo your…” He looked down at the dust of the clothing at his feet. “…incineration incident, I would’ve done the same.”

Another awkward silence fell as Gale tried to avoid Y/N’s gaze. The sorcerer, however, looked at him intently, causing Gale to raise an eyebrow.

“I have a feeling there’s another reason you wanted to warp my clothing.” Gale remarked.

“…To be fair, my grudge never included… disliking your physical attributes.” Y/N replied with a sly grin.

Gale couldn’t help but smirk. “I could say the same to you.” The sorcerer smirked back. “I wouldn’t mind a fourth round to see which of us is the better spellcaster.”

With a mischievous arch of his eyebrow, Y/N wondered what Gale had in mind. “And that includes?”

“Let’s see who among us is more creative using magic while… sleeping together.” Gale revealed his body with a confident grin, and Y/N didn’t shy away. “I’m eager to see how you’ll surprise me this time.”

Hey, thank you all for keeping up with the fanfics! Hope you like it! I need to announce I'm going to take a small break. The reason why is because I'm busy with other projects as well as my personal life.