Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’s adynamic, Glisten reasons to himself. He shouldn’t – doesn’t – need this. It's pitiful. Not that it is for everyone, necessarily, but it is for him. He’s better than that. He doesn't need to, fucking, take care of someone or anything like that.

He thinks of Boxten – sweet sub, obviously. No one doubts that. One time, he walked in on Poppy holding him, smiling and whispering–

Enough. He can’t let himself think about that. It's.. it's unnecessary. And if the others want to flaunt it, then sure. Whatever. But he isn't going to. He has a reputation to uphold; a confident neutral.

He just wishes it would stop being brought up. I mean, sure, it must be nice, for them, but he can’t go a day without hearing about something.

Like – just yesterday, they were watching a movie in Astro’s room, and Cosmo walks in, wearing a, a fucking collar (It was pretty. Not that Glisten would ever – whatever. But it was smooth pink leather, and it didn’t stand out too much, and it.. fit him). 

Not only that, but he walked over and sat in Sprout’s lap. Like, come on. Glisten was all for healthy relationships and shit, but this was starting to get out of hand.

It.. bothered him. That was it. He kept looking over at the couple and seeing them holding hands, or Sprout kissing Cosmos' cheek, and he couldn't help but scoff.

Sprout almost saw him, though, so he had to stop. Sprout could be scary when it comes to Cosmo. Doms and their irritability, overprotectiveness. Good thing he doesn’t have to deal with that.

Glisten was lounging in the common area, draped over a couch and sketching out some ideas for new clothing designs. Maybe he should make a dress for Tisha; she always worked so hard, she deserved a gift.

“Those look gorgeous. Are they new designs?” Someone – Rodger, ugh – asked from above him. The mirror glanced up at him, showing his annoyance. “Yeah, they are. Now can you stop breathing on me, please?”

Rodger blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. “Oh, my apologies. I just thought they were interesting. Did you–”

“Can’t you see I’m kind of busy over here? Just – leave me alone, yeah?” Glisten said, looking back at his sketchbook. He didn’t have the patience to deal with Rodger right now. “I didn’t intend to bother you. I’ll leave you to it.” He hears Rodger saying, and then he's gone. Finally.

He didn’t really consider why he was so bothered by Rodger. He should take a self-care day soon, have a luxurious bath and put up his “do not disturb” sign. Yeah, that sounds nice. 

“Glisten. Would you like to have tea with me tonight?” Teagan approached the mirror, who looked over to her and smirked. “Of course! I’m sure my company will be well-appreciated. Who else will be there?” Her tea parties were always pleasant, and elegant, and normally the company there wasn’t too annoying.

“Oh, no one else. If that's acceptable, of course.” She said, smiling generously at him. “I mean, sure darling! You must like me that much, huh?” Glisten winked, but he did wonder if maybe something was wrong. He guessed he would find out.

“Teagan! I’m here!” Glisten announced, standing at her door. “Do come in, dear,” The dom said from inside, so Glisten walked into the room – it was gorgeous, as usual, but nothing in comparison to his own – and sat on the chair he had claimed as his own; a high-backed, velvet armchair with golden beads outlining it. 

Teagan walked in from one of the rooms leading off from the main one (Glisten isn’t sure exactly why or how she has so much space, but he definitely isn’t jealous. Not at all.), holding a platter with teacups, a kettle, and some cookies. It smelled really good, to be honest. She sat down in her usual seat (a rich brown sofa that looked comfortable) and faced him, setting the tray down.

“Here we are. Your favorite,” She said as she poured his tea and then her own. “Thank you, darling. Not to be rude, but is there any particular reason you wanted to talk to me? Not that I don't enjoy your presence any time.” Glisten took a sip from his cup – it was very good – and sighed softly. He really was curious.

“Well, Glisten, I’m simply… worried about you.” Teagan said, looking at him over her tea. 

“Worried? About me? Darling, you sound like one of the handlers. I’m doing perfect, as always.” He replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He shouldn’t even be worried, this shouldn’t.. affect him like this. He’s being pathetic.

“You’ve been, to put it plainly, off. At the movie the other night, I saw how you looked at Sprout and Cosmo. And Rodger told me that you’ve been snapping at him more than usual.” Glistem sneered, looking away from her. “I haven’t – Ugh, Teagan, I’m fine. Why is everyone so concerned about me all of a sudden?” It was annoying. Stupid. He didn’t need their fucking concern.

Teagan’s hand lingered on her teacup, fingers tightening ever so slightly. “I don’t mean to overstep, but… this is exactly what I mean, dear. You usually aren’t quite this tetchy. I just wanted to ask if there was anything I could do to help. I care about you, and so do the others.”

“Tetchy? I am not.. tetchy. I said I’m fine. Drop it, okay? I’m leaving. I'll see you later.” Glisten glanced at the dom one more time – and tried not to wince when he saw her worried expression (He felt so guilty for making her upset, he didn’t want to be bad .) – and stood up, leaving the room. 

He definitely didn’t start crying when he got back to his room. He doesn’t do that. He isn’t some sappy, sensitive sub who needs the approval of doms. He’s fine. Better than fine! He had to be. He just needs some sleep, that’s all.

Glisten was extracting, doing his normal fantastic job, when he heard a yelp –  a suspiciously Boxten-sounding yelp. He was about to go check on him when he heard a scream . He teleported over, and found himself in the middle of Boxten and a twisted, who was holding his arm with a death grip. Fuck.

He kicked the twisted in the stomach, tearing Boxten’s arm away, before pulling Boxten away with him and into a cramped room. His heart was hammering as he listened to the twisted groan and tried to quiet his breathing until he couldn’t hear its footsteps anymore. He looked over to check on Boxton, and–

Shit. He was sobbing quietly into Glisten's shoulder, his breathing shallow. He hadn’t even realized with the adrenaline of the attack. “Boxten, it’s okay, it’s gone. I, I’m here.” What did he do? He couldn’t let Boxton drop, not like this, but he didn’t… know how to comfort a sub.

“G-glisten, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I messed up..” Boxten whimpered, roughly wiping at his eyes. “No, no, darling, you didn’t do anything wrong – you’ve been really good, and were okay now.” Glisten found himself saying without thinking, rubbing Boxtens arm. It came almost naturally. “Were both okay, right? No one got hurt. You didn’t mess up at all.”

“I didn’t..?” The sub said softly, looking up at Glisten with teary eyes. “No, hon–” Glisten hesitated for a split second, the word ‘honey’ catching in his throat. It felt… wrong. Too soft. Too unlike him. But the way Boxten looked at him, all trembling and desperate for reassurance – it just slipped out. “Honey. Not one bit.” he stroked over Boxten’s cheek, smiling at him. “Can you get up with me now? Just one more machine, and then we can head back for the day, okay?”

Boxten hesitated, holding onto Glisten's hand. “Uhm.. Okay. Yeah, we, we can.”

What was that? He wasn’t some doting dom who comforted sobbing subs. He was a neutral, for fuck’s sake. It didn’t matter that it felt… good, somehow. Or that his head felt clearer than it had in weeks. He couldn’t have left Boxten like that. It was just what anyone else would’ve done. Right?

“Don’t be so harsh on him, Sprout. We’re all worried about him.. I don’t think he meant to be rude.”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at you – so disgusted. I didn’t want to ruin the movie, so I didn’t do anything, but he shouldn’t have looked at you like that.”

“I– okay, but, still. Look, I talked to Teagan, and she thinks he might not be a neutral after all. That might explain some of this.”

“He.. what? Is he a sub then? Still doesn’t make it okay, but..”

“Maybe. She said she isn’t sure. But it does make sense, doesn’t it? Think about it. The lashing out, the short temper, he’s been talking less too. I’m worried about him.”

“Yeah.. I don’t know. I just wish he hadn’t.. You know. You’re mine, he shouldn’t–”

“I understand, Sprout. You’re okay. I am yours. Do you wanna go bake some cupcakes? Might make you feel better!”

Glisten sucked in a breath, quickly walking away. He felt a little bad for listening in, but he was just walking by the kitchen, and he was curious, okay? And, for the record, their assumptions were absolutely ridiculous. He’d never act like some clingy sub – that’s not him.

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He goes on a solo run, without even telling anyone as they’re “supposed” to, because why should he care what they think. They’re just going to gossip about him anyway.

The thing is, his hands won’t stop shaking. He’s the best extractor there is, obviously, but now he can barely keep up. He needs to get himself together, he knows better.

He must not have been paying attention, because suddenly there's an arm at his back. There’s no one to go to, he has to stay calm, but tears are clouding his vision. He pushes it back, but the twisted manages to get its claws in him before he can roll away. He runs back to the elevator, going up, because apparently he can’t even do a run by himself anymore. God.

It’s almost the middle of the night, so he isn’t expecting anyone to be there when he gets to the main floor. But, of course, there is. Rodger’s there. He’s a light sleeper; probably got woken up by the noise of the elevator.

“Glisten..? What– why were you down there alone? In the middle of the night?” He looks at the mirror, a troubled expression on his face.

“Oh, I’m– I was just bored and couldn’t sleep, darling, that's all. More importantly, why are you up? You should get your beauty res– rest.” He’s trying his best to stay contained, but that scratch really does hurt.

“You– you’re bleeding. Let me take you to the infirmary.” Rodger ignores what Glisten asked, walking towards him with a hand outstretched. “I can take myself, It's barely a scratch. I’ll see you in the morning, Rodge.” Normally the magnifying glass gets all offended at the nickname, but he doesn’t even react to it this time. So annoying.

“No– Glisten, you’re coming with me. I won't ask any questions if you just let me help.” Glisten scoffs, looking away. “I don’t need…” But he stops himself. Rodger probably won’t let him go until he’s done whatever it is he wants to do. “Fine. Whatever.” He refuses to hold his hand, though.

They walk in silence to the infirmary, but whenever Glisten looks over at Rodger, he just looks like he’s thinking deeply about something. Probably thinking about what he’s gonna say to Teagan about this. They just can’t leave him alone, can they?

“Okay, sit down. I’ll get you a bandage.” Glisten sighs dramatically and sits down, and he definitely doesn't shudder when he tries to lean on his hurt arm. He crosses his legs, watching Rodger fetch some disinfectant and a bandage. He doesn’t talk as Rodger cleans his arm, grimacing at the sting. Rodger looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Good. It probably wasn’t important anyway.

The bandage goes on, and Glisten stands, about to leave. But Rodger stops him with a hand on his shoulder; “If.. If you ever need me, I’m here. You don’t have to say anything. But if you need something discreet – you know where to find me.” Glisten refuses to make eye contact, and walks out.

The place on his shoulder that Rodger had touched almost burns from the contact. Glisten may be a little touchy, to others, but when he thinks about it, he really doesn’t get touched that much, does he?

Not that it matters.

He just.. It was nice. He kind of wishes that Rodger would have done – well, something. And what did he even mean by “something discreet”? He couldn’t have been offering.. No. Who would want that with Glisten? Like Teagan said, he's.. tetchy.

He walks into his room and lays on his bed, his silk sheets feeling pleasantly cold. He keeps thinking back to everything – how he helped Boxton, how Teagan was worried about him, and Rodger. He brushes his hand over his shoulder, and where the bandage is. He should stop thinking about it. But it almost feels like he can’t.

Maybe… maybe he isn’t a neutral. But, then what? He’s been lying to himself? That he’s some weak.. sub? No, that’s not it. He remembers how Boxton looked up at him for reassurance. Well, Rodger is a switch, isn’t he? He could be–

No. He’s being ridiculous.

He tries to sleep, but just ends up staring at his ceiling all night.

Chapter Text

This run is not going well so far. The twisted's have been on them even more than usual, somehow, and Glisten can’t seem to focus. He misses another skillcheck – christ, he should be better than this – and dashes to hide behind a bookshelf as one, two twisted’s come and investigate. He isn’t scared, he doesn’t get scared, but he can’t seem to breathe right, and his hands are trembling. He hears footsteps, thinking it's another twisted, but it’s just Rodger. Oh. It’s Rodger. They haven’t… talked much, since that night in the infirmary. Glisten can’t stop thinking about it. He hasn’t been able to ask Rodger what he meant, yet.

“Glisten. Are you okay?” Rodger says, looking at the mirror steadily. “Hm? I’m fine, darling. Just a bit tired, there's no need to worry.” He tries to inflict his usual confident tone, but it’s off. Something about Rodger just makes him want to.. he doesn’t know. Rodger puts his hand on Glisten’s arm, looking him in the eyes – “It’s okay to struggle sometimes. You can take a break; I’ll finish this machine for you.”

It feels like he goes.. slack, almost, for a second there. Glisten sighs, his eyes feeling a bit heavier. The hand on him is grounding, and he looks at Rodger again – he's still there, looking so damn comforting. It’s like Glisten doesn’t have to worry about anything. Well, until he snaps out of it.

“Well, if you insist. It was a pleasure!” He replies, and teleports over to some toon who’s waiting at the elevator. Maybe it was a bit rude to leave so quickly, but it’s fine. Rodger said he could. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. It was just.. a momentary weakness. That's all.

It keeps happening, though. He’ll be sketching, and Rodger will come over and compliment him. This one time, Glisten was trying to practice his self-defense, to fight off twisteds, and Rodger just… walked over, and adjusted his arms. He said something about how to better deflect a hit, but Glisten could barely listen – he was still in shock by how casually Rodger touched him. 

He needs to talk to Rodger about this, at the very least, to get him to stop.

He knocks on Rodger’s door, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. Rodger opens it, still in his pajamas – that wolf shirt Glisten relentlessly made fun of him for, but secretly found endearing – and seemed surprised that Glisten was there, but quickly schooled his expression. “Come in.”

He hadn’t really seen his room before, only glimpses. It was more like a library, to be honest. Floor-to-ceiling shelves, two desks covered in files and papers, his bed and some chairs at the back. He leads Glisten over to the chairs, and sits down in one himself. “You can sit, if you’d like.” He says, so Glisten does. He tries not to think about why he listened so easily.

“Is there something you’d like to discuss, Glisten?” He asks, hands in his lap. “I…” Glisten can’t find the words. His head is starting to hurt, and this feels wrong, like he shouldn’t be here. “Ah. Would you like… I can help. If you’d like.”

Help? What does he mean? Glisten looks up at him, wrapping his arms around himself. Rodger walks over, sitting next to the mirror. “Can you take a deep breath for me, Glisten?” He asks, and it feels so natural to listen. Once he feels like he can think again, he speaks. “I don’t… get it, Rodger. I just..” He trails off, unsure of himself. He can’t bring himself to form words very well, as he usually can. It’s too hard.

“Do you want me to help? I, I only will if you want me to. I don’t want to force anything onto you.” Glisten still isn’t sure what he means, but he gets a prodding feeling it's something to do with dynamics. “I’m a neutral. I don’t.. do that.” Rodger nods, reassuring, “You still can be; I won’t tell anyone. But I would like to help. Will you let me try, as a favor to me?”

When he puts it that way – he’ll be helping Rodger, won't he? Rodger is a switch, maybe he needs it right now. “...Okay.” He agrees, and feels his body shudder softly. “Thank you, love.” And that, the pet name, made him just.. melt. His thoughts seemed to scatter, and he wanted.. he wanted to touch Rodger. Lean on him. More than anything, he wanted to trust him. He was too tired, for all of this. He gave in, and lay his head on Rodger’s shoulder.

“Easy, now. I have you.” Rodger seemed so calm, it was almost dizzying, the comparison between them. His hand lays on the back of Glisten’s neck, and the weight of it makes the fuzziness in his head even more apparent. “You can let go now, dear. I can handle everything else.” It really does seem like he can, doesn’t it? He's like… an anchor. Keeping Glisten from floating away. Steady, as, uhm.. hm. He can’t really think of the word, but that’s fine, isn’t it? Rodger said he would handle everything.

“Glisten? Will you come up just a bit for me? I have a question I’d like to ask.” Glisten jolts, just a little, at his name. ‘Come up?’  But he wasn’t down. He wasn’t anything. He shakes his head, trying to get the words to make sense. He must have been confused. He can’t go down, he isn't a sub. He sits up, trying to make sense of what just happened. He had come to Rodger’s room to talk to him. And then he… oh, shit. He had started feeling all shaky, and he had told Rodger, god knows why, and then he.. laid on him? And listened to him, and..

He has to fix this, he can’t have Rodger thinking he’s some sensitive– “Glisten, are you okay? You’re lost in thought, dear. Is there any way I can help?”

That’s what wakes him up – dear. He can’t believe he let Rodger see him like this. He stands up, definitely not feeling dizzy as he puts his hand on the couch for support. “No, no, I’m perfectly fine, darling! I don’t know what came over me, hah. Why don’t we pretend this never happened, and go back to our lives? I’m sure you have plenty of.. detective.. work-stuff to do.” He blinks a few times, combatting the blurriness in his eyes, and Rodger just looks.. concerned.

“I.. You came up quite quickly, love, could you tell me why? You need aftercare–” “Aftercare? Please, hon, I don’t need something like that. I’m adynamic, you know that.” He says it like it’s a fact, like he believes it, because he has to. That’s who he is. He doesn’t do soft. Doesn’t need it. Doesn’t need anyone to –  fucking hold him. But Rodger stands up, and now he looks upset, and fuck, Glisten didn’t mean to upset him, he doesn’t want him to be mad at him.

“I– Please, just let me hold you, or get you some water, before you leave..” His voice wavers – barely, but enough that it makes Glisten pause. “..It would help me. I’d owe you a favor.” Glisten scoffs, crossing his arms, attempting to ignore the little spark he felt when Rodger said he could hold him. He guesses.. well, if Rodger needs it. He doesn’t want him to drop, after all. That would be a whole mess. “...Fine. Whatever, darling, I suppose. You owe me one.” The switch seemed to calm down at that, taking a breath. “Okay. Okay, thank you.” He walks over to his mini-fridge – Glisten gets a peek, and its mostly coffee – and grabs a water bottle, then a granola bar.

He holds them out to Glisten, and he takes them begrudgingly, their hands brushing for just a moment. Except Rodger looks at him expectantly, so he sighs and uncaps the bottle, taking a drink, before taking a bite of the granola bar. It’s.. decent. He finishes the whole thing like that, because he gets the feeling that Rodger wants him to.

Not that he’s doing it for Rodger! No, no, he just doesn’t want to deal with an annoying dropped switch. That's all. When he finishes, and hands the half-empty bottle and wrapper back to Rodger, the magnifying glass smiles at him. Rodger almost never smiles. It was weird. Not bad, but… weird. Glisten looks away quickly.

“Thank you.” Glisten rolls his eyes, “You’re welcome. Soo, may I go now?” Rodger nods, so he gets the hell out of there. Gracefully, obviously. He resolutely does not think about their interaction for the rest of the day, until he's in his bed, covered by pink fluffy blankets. It doesn’t count if he’s half asleep.

Chapter Text

Boxten is another problem. One of the sweetest subs Glisten knows, and while he tries to avoid anything related to dynamics, it does come up. It doesn’t help that Boxten’s always anxious, it makes Glisten want to reassure him. Not– not in a dom way, obviously, just in a friend way. Anyone else would do the same.

And when Boxton asks him for help on some self-defense techniques, well..

“U-uhm, Glisten? Are you free, if it isn't a bother?” Boxten looks up at him, blushing a little. “Why, for you? I’m always free, Boxy. What’s on your mind, darling?” He brushes his hand against his shoulder softly, making the sub giggle. What can he say, he knows how to fluster the guy. “I just, uhm, was wondering if you could teach me how to defend myself better? Since, ah, last time you kinda had to come save me…” He breaks eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean, sure, hon, but why me? Wouldn’t it be better to ask Sprout, or Tisha? Not that I couldn’t teach you well; obviously I could.” 

“I– well, Sprout’s… kind of scary sometimes. And, uhm, you’re just my friend.. So..” The hesitance in his words kind of makes Glisten want to give him a hug. Or wrap him up in blankets and tell him he hasn’t done anything wrong. Or–

..Anyways. Point is, he’ll gladly show off his skills anytime. “Well, if you insist… come to my room tonight, darling. I’ll be there.” That.. almost sounded like an order. Shit, that’s not what he meant. He didn’t mean it like that. He quickly backtracks; “I– not that you have to, I was just–”

Boxten laughs softly. “Thanks, Glisten. I-I will.”

And that’s that. Or, so he told himself. Because obviously, he wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all.

He is resolutely not fretting. Him fretting would be like… Astro being energetic. It just doesn’t happen.

He simply wants his room to be perfect, that’s all. It always is, obviously, but still. Look, whatever. So what if he put his softest blankets on the couch, so what if he swept and cleaned every surface, so what if he grabbed some of Boxten’s favorite candy to maybe-possibly-probably give to him. It’s just basic hospitality. Anyone would do the same. Totally normal, absolutely not fretting, and definitely not dom behavior.

He’s making sure his bow is tied nice and pretty when he hears the knock. He puts on his customary smirk and goes to open it. “Boxy, decided to come luxuriate in my presence?” Boxten seems nervous, so he smiles a bit more kindly, “Come in, darling.”

“O-okay, thank you.” He follows behind Glisten, hands fidgeting apprehensively. He wants to.. hm. Boxten shouldn’t be so anxious. Maybe–

“I can get you some water, cutie, if you’d like. You seem stressed.” Boxten flushed at that, presumably the cutie comment, but, well, Glisten can’t help himself.

“Uhm.. sure. I’d like some.” So Glisten smiles charmingly again, and gets him a cup, secretly reaching for the chocolate he’d got for him too. He hands him the water, before leaning against the bed frame. “I have a surprise for you.. If you’ll close your eyes and hold your hand out, I’ll give it to you.” He laughs, gentle.

Boxton, however, looks – he doesn’t know how to describe it. Shy, almost. “I– okay, Glis.” ‘Glis’. He said it so softly, like it wasn’t just a nickname – but something else entirely. Glisten almost liked it, and he hated that he did. That wasn’t him.

He hoped the chocolate would help Boxten relax a bit. The sub stepped closer, closing his eyes and holding out a hand, still blushing. He drops the candy bar in his hand, and the sub opens his eyes, and he just… smiles. So damn open, and bright, and even trusting. Glisten looked down – he almost wanted to see it again. But that just made him feel even guiltier. “Thank you! You got my favorite – I can have it now..?” Why was he asking for permission? He didn’t need it. He shouldn’t need it. Glisten swallowed hard, his voice softer than he intended. “Of course, Boxy. You can do whatever you want.”

He firmly shoves the voice in his head that aches to comfort and settle the sub. Not in that way. Obviously. Not in a way that means anything. Just being a good friend, that’s all. As usual. 

It was almost like the air shifted between them. Boxten fidgets with the wrapper, finished with the chocolate. Everything was fine. Perfectly fine. He just gave his friend a gift, that’s all.

“So, darling, ready to start practicing?”

The next run they’re on together, he keeps an eye on Boxten – just to see if he listened to his advice, is all. And he has. He doesn’t get hit even once, and seems overall a bit more confident. Glisten is… proud. He walks over to him and teases, “You’re doing amazing, darling, I’m glad you paid attention.” Boxten turns around, smiling sheepishly; “Well, yeah – t-thank you! I feel less scared now, too.. And I know you’d help me if I really needed it.”

Glisten tenses – the idea of Boxten trusting him to save him is almost overwhelming. But that has to be normal, right? He’s just being emotional. Sappy. “Mhm, well, of course I would!” He replies, maybe a bit nervous now. He shouldn’t feel so affected by this. There.. has to be something wrong with him. Maybe he isn’t getting enough sleep.

Every main character had their own handler, but for the rest of them, they had one handler per dynamic. It’s not like they were separated from toons with other dynamics – just that their bedrooms were close together, and that whenever they got in trouble or needed help they’d go to their group’s handler.

Glisten was put into the neutral group. That's what he was made to be, after all. What he is.

The thing is. The thing is, well, no other toon in his group seems to… mind dynamic stuff as much as he did. Scraps, Brightney, Flutter, Gigi, Connie – they acted like they didn’t care. Sometimes they even.. acted like doms or subs. Which, sure, he knew some adynamics had leanings, but. Still.

Maybe it's because their handler took an extra interest in Glisten. He was calm, cool, collected; everything Glisten tried to be.

"You should know better than to act like this by now, Glisten. Your character is already controversial enough; do you really need to be so... emotional?" He said, the faint smell of smoke coming off of him. He sounded unfazed; as impassive as he always was, except for a small hint of annoyance.

Glisten chokes on a sob, wiping his eyes desperately; "N-no, sir, I don't mean to be -- I can be better! I promise, I will--"

"Good. You will." The handler straightened his tie with the kind of meticulous carelessness Glisten could never muster, his gaze pinning Glisten down. He walked away, leaving Glisten to pick himself up off the floor.

Those days were far in the past now. He tried not to think too hard about them.

He just… their handler never seemed to care as much about the other toon’s behavior. He knows it’s because of how much work he was – is –- he told him that, after all, and it makes sense. None of them have these… problems. Right?

“Look at Vee; a perfect example of a neutral. She wouldn’t embarrass herself like this. She’s polished, composed –- everything you’re supposed to be. Doms, subs –- they’re overdramatic, sentimental. It only holds them back. You’re letting all of us down.” He said, with a pause just long enough for Glisten to feel the weight in his words. “I’m disappointed in you, Glisten. I thought you would be over this pathetic behavior by now.” He had said, looking down, he always made Glisten feel so small.  

“I–I really am trying my best, s-sir, I don’t mean to be this pitiful. Please, give me another chance..” He had to make him proud. He had to. There was no other option; he had to grow up.

“We’ll see.” He replied; blunt, apathetic. “Next time, you’ll spend the day alone in your room. Maybe a little time alone will remind you how to behave.” No, no– Why couldn’t Glisten be like him? Why couldn’t he just control himself, it wasn’t that fucking difficult –-

It really was all his fault, wasn’t it? He was the only one who couldn’t keep it together. None of the others seemed to wrestle with this constant knot in their chest, this… need.  Maybe the handler was right about him. Who was he kidding; of course he was.

He hadn’t thought about the smell of smoke in months, but it hit him now like it was just yesterday. It clung to the edges of his memory, acrid and biting. He feels a tear gather in his eye, and roughly wipes it away. Fuck.

Chapter Text

Glisten is adynamic. A neutral – meaning, he doesn’t need to take care of anyone or be taken care of like most humans and even the other toons. He's always known it; everyone has, from the day he was introduced, from the day he was shown his room with the rest of the neutrals and met their handler.

He's also confident. Charismatic. He isn't afraid to say what he thinks. What does his card say, again? That his ego can “bring up new issues, but he will always stand up for his friends and what's right”?

Then again. How true is that, actually? Can he be different from how he was engineered?

Can any of them?

They've all certainly changed since.. what happened. Being alone and having to fend for themselves, not having any handlers to go to, not having anything except for each other - that changed them.

To be honest, he isn't even sure why they were designed to have dynamics. They're in a kids show, after all. He remembers being told something about being good role models, but still. It feels.. it is annoying. 

He doesn't see the point.

The others still do, apparently, because it isn't an uncommon sight to see some toon on their knees in the common area, or another (namely, Cosmo), wearing a collar.

It feels like it should be the last thing on their minds, with them barely having any supplies, and their fucked-up counterparts dripping with ichor attacking them, but they ‘need it’. For some reason.

He's itching to do something. The last run he went on was after he trained Boxten, the one where after he went back to his room and curled up into his silk sheets and remembered something he shouldn't have ever tried to forget.

He straightens his bow and heads out of his room, wanting to see if anyone is going to head out on a supplies run sometime soon. He needs to do something, to be productive, to not be sitting around pitifully.

There's a few toons around the elevators - Sprout gives him a slightly-concerned and slightly-irritated look when he approaches, but doesn’t say anything. Good.

“Glisten! H-hey, did you want to join us?” Boxten asks, standing next to Cosmo. “Well, that depends,” Glisten says, “Are you in need of my wonderful extracting skills?”

Sprout sighs. “Can you not– Okay. Sure. We have me and Cosmo, Boxten and you can extract, and I'll see if Goob can distract for us.” Glisten wants to bite back with a witty remark, but Cosmo looks at him almost.. pleadingly? 

It.. makes him feel bad. Cosmo isn't wearing his collar now, probably because he doesn't want to ruin it. But the way he looks at him – eyes wide and almost upset, freezes him.

He scoffs and stands next to Boxten, checking his nails. Sprout walks out to find Goob, presumably, and that's when Cosmo comes up to him. “Glisten?” He asks, looking up at the mirror.

He and Cosmo have never particularly gotten along, but that was more so because he and Sprout don’t get along. Either way, Cosmo hasn't talked to him directly in a while.

“Yes?” Cosmo seems nervous, looking towards the ground for a moment, before he crosses his arms and starts talking. “Look, Glisten– I don't know what's going on with you. And, I know that Sprout can be… protective, sometimes. But can you just, please, try and get along? We're already in danger here and I don't like it – none of us do – when you two argue.”

Glisten blinks.

He.. shouldn’t care what Cosmo has to say. But..

“...Okay. I’ll– I’ll leave Sprout alone.”

Cosmo seems just as surprised as he is, the words falling out without thought. “Really?” Cosmo asks, “No, I mean, okay. Thank you.” And he walks away.

Boxten is looking at him strangely. “What?” He asks, with less vitriol than he had hoped for. “N-nothing,” Boxten says meekly, “Just.. I’m, uhm. Proud of you? I know you don’t like Sprout, so.. that was probably hard. But, um, I appreciate it.”

He finds he can’t meet Boxten’s eyes, nor can he respond with a scoff like usual. “...Thank you.” He says quietly, barely above a whisper.

Boxten smiles at him.

The run is going fine, honestly. Goob is actually decent at keeping the twisteds away, and while it’s.. odd and annoying that he has one-sided conversations with them, it keeps their focus away from Glisten. They’re handling the machines well, managing to bring a decent amount of supplies back to the elevator. Why gardenview has so much candy, he’ll never know. 

He ends up on a machine next to Cosmo, and– he’s thinking. Which is stupid, really. He should be focusing on the machine, on his surroundings, on anything except Cosmo. But– when he gets an idea in his head, it can be hard to get rid of. He’s not stubborn, like some toons say, but he can be determined. Maybe that's why he gets along with Rodger so well; he can appreciate the toon's steadfast nature.

He might as well ask. It’s just them, and even if Cosmo tells Sprout– he certainly doesn’t care. He agreed to leave Sprout alone, so the toon shouldn’t bother him either.

“Ahem. Cosmo?” He asks, and the toons eyes flicker over to him for a moment. “Yeah?”

“...I have a question.” He says, trying to pretend this isn’t the most awkward conversation ever.

“Uhm. Okay? You can ask.”

“...Why do you– ugh. Why are you.. a sub?”

Cosmo’s hands pause on the wheel for a minute, seemingly taken aback by his question. “You– you don’t have to answer, of course! I was just curious, that's all, I don’t need an answer.”

Cosmo finishes his machine, turning to face Glisten. Why did he have to– Ugh. “No– no. I guess it’s.. it’s nice? And I.. I do need it. I get really upset if I don’t go down, and then I’m more likely to get hurt or not be able to help someone when they need it.”

Glisten looks anywhere but at Cosmo, his mind racing. “You don’t… mind it?”

“I don’t.” Cosmo shakes his head, “It can be scary, trusting someone with me like that, but.. I really do trust Sprout more than anything. He takes good care of me.”

Cosmo pauses for a moment, face thoughtful. “I hope you can find someone like that.”

He hopes– that Glisten will find someone like Sprout? 

No.. he hopes Glisten will find someone who he can trust to take care of him. 

Doesn’t he know that Glisten is adyn–

Before Glisten can get a word in, someone finishes the last machine, and they have to get to the elevator, the alarm blaring loudly.

Chapter Text

He’d almost made it.

It was just one more turn. A few more steps. That's all it would have been.

He’s never been lucky, though, huh?

He doesn’t know how long he’s been on this floor. It’s dark. The lights don't stay on once the elevator leaves.

He wonders if the others even noticed. He’d understand if they didn’t. Why should they care? He’s– he’s not that useful, or helpful, or good. He’s mean, and rude, and…

And now he’s curled up in a corner, because he’s alone, surrounded by the sounds of twisteds roaming aimlessly. He doesn’t have the courage to go back out there, alone. He’s already heard the elevator go back up. 

They left him.

It’s not their fault– he should have been faster. He shouldn’t have teleported earlier. He shouldn’t have.. 

He shouldn't have even come. It’s not like they wanted him here.

…Cosmo had told him that he hoped Glisten could find someone. Someone he could trust. He wishes Rodger were here. For once, he doesn’t feel like fighting. He’s shaking, and it’s cold, and it's frightening. There’s no-one to teleport to. There's nowhere to go. He’s alone.

Isn’t that what he’s always wanted?

He wraps his arms tighter around his knees. He has to stay calm. They’ll– they’ll come for him, right? Boxton and, and Cosmo and Rodger and even Sprout–

Why would they come for you?

It smells like smoke. Pungent and harsh, clinging to his hands, his lips, his tongue– except. Except, there isn’t any. He knows there isn’t. But the longer he sits there, the more he shakes, it only gets thicker, until every breath burns his throat.

You’re pathetic. Why didn’t you listen to me?

His legs won’t move. They feel like they aren’t even his, like they’re held down by cement. He tries to lift his head, but even that's too heavy. Get up, he thinks. Move.

I told you.

The voice isn’t real, he knows it isn’t, because it isn’t in his ears. It’s under his skin, its in his throat. It’s inside of him. It's ruining him from the inside-out.

And now look at you. Sobbing on the floor like the sub you’ve always tried not to be. Hoping some dom will come to save you.

They won’t. You should know that by now.

You’re alone, Glisten.

You shouldn’t have even bothered.

It smells like smoke. Pungent and harsh, clinging to his hands, his lips, his tongue– except. Except, there isn’t any. He knows there isn’t. But the longer he sits there, the more he shakes, it only gets thicker, until every breath burns his throat.

Look at you.

When he puts his hand up to his face, he swears he can feel a crack.

He’s fine. He’s fine.

They’re obviously not coming. He needs to pick himself up off the floor. He’s been laying here pitifully for who knows how long. He has to take care of himself. No-one else will.

Except, he can’t move his legs. He feels cold all over, and he can barely remember why he’s here in the first place. All he knows is that he has to get up, he has to save himself, he has to–

“Glisten! Are you hereee?” He hears.

Thats–

It can’t be real. It can’t be. 

But if it is– He has to get up. But he can’t, he’s–

He’s pathetic–

“Daddy! I found Glisten!”

He tries to reach out to her, to the hope that her voice is real, but his arm falls limp. He’s too weak.

“Is he okay? Gosh, he looks–”

“He’s physically fine, thankfully. I don’t see any injuries. He’s just.. passed out.”

“I can’t believe we– I– forgot him, I’m so–”

“Sprout…”

“Why don’t you two go rest? I’ll get him to the infirmary.”

“..Okay. Sprout, c’mon.”

“I-is he gonna be okay?”

“He’ll be okay, Boxten. I’ll tell you as soon as he wakes up. Does that sound alright?”

“O-okay. I’ll– I’ll go rest. Thank you..”

He’s warm.

That’s the first thing he notices, anyway. It feels like there's a heavy blanket on top of him. His eyelids feel really heavy.

“Oh! Is he waking up?”

“...I think so.”

He blinks his eyes open, and there's two toons looking down at him.

“Rodger…?” He asks, and his voice comes out rough, “What.. happened?”

The other toon – Tisha, he remembers – starts checking him over, while Rodger explains.

“You were on a supply run. With Sprout, Cosmo, Boxten, and Goob. You were down pretty deep in the building when you didn’t make it to the elevator on time. They realized when they came back up, and we got together to look for you. Me, Toodles, Sprout, Cosmo, and Pebble. We found you, passed out, and brought you to the infirmary.”

Rodger’s hand is on his, he notices. It feels… nice.

“That’s… a lot.”

Rodger smiles bittersweetly. “We’re lucky we found you so soon, and without you being injured. You were down there alone for about three hours.”

They’re… lucky?

He sits himself up, Rodgers hand sliding off of his own. He wants to take it back, but–

“Tisha? Would you mind leaving, just for a few minutes? Then you can tell everyone he’s alright. I believe we simply need a moment to ourselves.”

The toon nods, giving Glisten a small smile and swiftly leaving the room.

“Rodger…” His voice cracks.

“It’s alright. I’m here, Glisten.”

He can’t–

He wraps his arms around Rodger before he can even think not to.

What are you doing–?

He lets himself cry. “I-I was so scared, Rodger… I didn’t, I didn’t think you would come looking f-for me…”

Rodger strokes his back gently, and it’s so comforting, he feels himself shiver all over. “I came to find you, Glisten.” 

“But– but why?” His voice breaks on the word. “Why would you bother?”

“Because I care about you, Glisten.” He says, like its the easiest thing in the world. Like its simple.

That's not true.

“You– you do? But, but I’m… I’m selfish, and annoying, and pathetic, and…”

Rodger tightens his arms around him, and Glisten feels his body go slack. Why can Rodger just… do that to him? “You aren’t any of those, love. You’re always looking out for us, even if you don’t show it directly. Why do you think so badly of yourself?”

…He always tries not to think about this, but…

You can’t tell him. He won’t believe you. Everyone loved me, remember?

“I…”

Glisten. Don’t tell him.

“M-my handler…” He takes a deep breath, “He, uhm. He always said I was.. A bad neutral, and stuff. Cause… you know. So, so he’d– lock me in my room, and stuff. Or just.. tell me how bad I was. But– he cared about me! Really! None of the other neutrals are like– me, so he was just helping me.”

Right?

Rodger lets out a small breath. “Glisten.. If I had known..”

He shakes his head into the toons chest. “Just– not right now. Please? Later.”

“...Okay.”

They stay like that for a few more minutes, before Rodger taps his back lightly. “Are you alright to get up? We should go see the others. I’m sure they’re plenty worried.”

He nods slowly. “I can do that.”

Rodger holds his hand as he leads him out of the infirmary, and thats nice. He doesn’t want to let go, so he doesn’t.

“...Hi.” He says, because he’s too tired to act anything but it.

“Glisten!”

“You’re okay!”

“How are you feeling?”

Before he can respond, theres a certain music box hugging him fiercely. “Glis’... You’re okay…”

“Of course I am, Boxy. C’mere.” He puts his free hand on the toons back, pulling him close. “I’d never leave you so easily.”

Talking to everyone else goes similarly. Mostly just “I’m glad you’re okay”’s, but there was the occasional hug (Goob, Toodles, Yatta) and one incidence of being licked all over his face (Pebble). Everyone seemed… relieved. Like they were happy he was okay.

…Maybe they were?

Boxten is still holding onto his arm. Cosmo is still staring at him, his eyes wet. Even Sprout looks like he’s about to cry.

Maybe – just maybe – he’s worth coming back for.