What Mr. Vox Wants

by LegaciesReborn

Summary:

"I gave you your name, your life, and I can easily take it all away from you."

Papermint, Vox's loyal assistant, finds himself entangled in a one-sided obsession for his boss. He could take much better care of Mr. Vox than Valentino ever could.

Notes:

Hi! Ideas that have been bouncing around my head for awhile, haha. And there really isn't much fanfiction work for Papermint. Normal warnings (duh it's hazbin hotel and Valentino is in this) enjoy.

Chapter 1: Peppermints and Gummy Sharks

Peppermints and Gummy Sharks.

 

“I gave you your name, your life - I can take it all away if I want to.”

 

Vox’s words were burned into Papermint’s memory, much like their contract intertwined within his soul, crept inside like a poison. It didn't take long for his boss to rewire his brain, his thoughts, his needs. Papermint existed for him, he’d made that clear. 

 

“What else do you have besides assisting me? Nothing. You have nothing!"

 

“Yes sir…” Papermint would say. 

 

It stung. But a small part of him became comfortable with the familiarity of their complicated relationship. One-sided admiration he came to accept. 

 

He was headed to Vox’s office right now. “Come see me in my office after filming.” he said. Yes sir, as always, Papermint said.

 

He walked through the halls, a false confidence that was clearly given away by his stiff posture and tail. He shook off his nerves, dress shoes tapping lightly against the floor as he walked. Vox hated heavy footsteps.

 

Papermint knocked at the door. “Sir…? You asked to see me.”

 

Almost instantly, the automatic doors slid open, revealing Vox sitting behind his desk a short distance away. He didn't look up right away, gesturing to the chair in front of him, his eyes scanned over classified documents in his mind. The letters and numbers that couldn't tangibly be made out by the naked eye.

 

A moment of silence followed, as his boss finished the work that occupied him - for the time being, anyway. It was flattering enough that he was talking the time to look Papermint in the eyes during this meeting. 

 

“Ratings have been sky high, Papermint.” His stern face broke out into a born-for-television smile, an artificially wide grin with sharp shark teeth. Small sparks of electricity danced in his eyes, and in his claws he lightly drummed on his desk with. “Sky high!” He repeated, urging a more excited reaction from his assistant, who breathed a huge sigh of relief and nodded his head excitedly.

 

“That's amazing Sir, you're doing great, Sir!” Papermint hurried to hype his boss up. 

 

“We are doing great. My whole team is. While I'm of course the star of the show, you're a backbone.” He gave a double look and shrugged. “Mm. A minor one, anyway.”

 

Papermint would take the compliment. His cheeks tinged a light pink, mixed with light blue from his complexion. Vox must have noticed this, because he grinned wider if it were possible, opportunity gleaming in his eyes.

 

“Well then! How would you like more responsibility, Papermint?” He asked, looking him straight in the eye. Words every workaholic like Papermint wanted to hear! Even if Vox’s stare wasn't chilling, he agreed regardless, nodding eagerly.

 

“Mr. Vox, I would love to, Sir! Whatever it is you need, I'm on it.”

 

Vox chuckled, already expecting the answer he received. “Excellent.” He stood, both arms crossed behind his back. He towered over Papermint whenever they stood together, especially when Papermint was sitting in front of him like now. More perfectly calculated manipulation. Over their years together, it wasn't as if Papermint was still as oblivious as he once was. He just didn't mind anything Mr. Vox wanted.

 

What I want, I get. Vox always told him.

 

Vox walked towards the shark tank enclosure that enveloped his office, cold eyes following one of the modified sharks as it swam past him.

 

“As we grow, there's no room for mistakes. My trust circle is very small these days.” His gaze averted to the side, catching Papermint’s out of the corner of his eye. He must've seen how Papermint shook with nervousness, because he chuckled and shook his head, turning to face his assistant.

 

“Relax! You're getting a promotion! I want you as the head of a new division. You'll be my watchful eye behind the scenes, handling issues and reporting back to me on what can't be solved so easily. I can trust that, can't I?”

 

Again, another all too eager nod from Papermint, who now stood from his chair across the room. “I'm honored, Mr. Vox! You can count on me, of course, absolutely.”

 

Vox turned and walked towards Papermint. 

 

“As I said, there's no room for failure…” He sighed. “I trust you know what will happen in that case.”

 

Vox strode towards him, taking his time step by step, building up the anticipation. Papermint felt himself sweating anxiously by the time Vox was finally a couple feet away from him.

 

“Make no mistake: Val, Velvette and most importantly myself are still your superiors. You're in charge of the honey, but not the Queen bee.”

 

Vox stopped just as he was in front of his assistant, suddenly throwing out an arm to tightly grasp Papermint’s shoulder. Papermint flinched, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn't need to brace himself this time.

 

Both Vox’s hands gripped his shoulders now, prompting the much shorter assistant to stare up at him directly into his eyes. 

 

“You've always given so much for me, as you should.” Sweet music to Papermint’s ears. He couldn't pull his gaze away.

 

There was that slight spinning in his hypnotic eye again… The one that made him feel butterflies inside. Like he could barely breathe. 

 

“Do you want this?”

 

“More than anything.” Papermint responded, thinking about wanting something very different than what his professional boss had in mind.

 

Vox grinned, his artificial charm ever so radiant. 

 

“Excellent!”

 

“You won't regret this, Sir.” Papermint assured him after a moment’s pause.

 

He laughed, much more than a chuckle, but still just as simply and sharply. “Oh, I know I won't. You'd really be fucked if I did.”

 

Papermint gulped. He nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor and hiding from Vox’s analyzing screen.

 

Some sparks emitted from one of his antennae, and a frustrated sigh left his lips. “Go, get out of here now. I have more important matters to attend to.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Vox!”

 

Papermint scurried out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him, heartbeat racing just as fast.

 

The automatic doors closed, locking behind him. He leaned against the wall, both hands pressed on either side of his face.

 

He had it bad.

Chapter 2: Paper, Not Pepper.

Summary:

Papermint thinks back on some memories from the beginning of his relationship with Vox.

Notes:

Took some creative liberty with Baxter, hope you guys like it :) I kind of imagined him like how Husk is at the hotel. There to listen, not the type to be soft with your feelings.

Chapter 2: Paper, Not Pepper.

 

—

 

Papermint exhaled with relief, dramatic enough as if he had been holding his breath. He put both his elbows on the table, head in his hands, barely holding back any electric sparks from his body to make contact with the sleek counter bar.

 

His heavy plop into his chair, despite his thin frame, raised the attention of Voxtek’s personal bartender.

 

Baxter walked over, taking out a glass. “Geez, what happened to you? Look like you got hit by a truck.”

 

So blunt. “Ugh. Thanks.” Papermint responded sarcastically, running a hand through his hair and looking up. Despite the occasional bickering, Baxter was his best, and pretty much only, friend.

 

“Work break?” Papermint asked, referring to Baxter’s other responsibilities in Voxtek’s science department.

 

“For now. Drink?” Baxter asked.

 

“Vodka cranberry.”

 

“You're never adventurous.” He commented with a shake of his head, fixing the drink regardless.

 

“What's Vox got you doing now?” Baxter already knew Papermint’s troubles almost always lead back to his boss. Especially with that flushed look currently on his face.

 

“I'm actually leading a new project and department.” Papermint responded with enthusiasm and a soft smile. “Much more pressure, but… I don't let Mr. Vox down, ever.”

 

“Hey, congratulations! That's amazing.” Baxter complemented, clinking a shot of vodka against the drink now in Papermint’s hand. “He must really need you, huh?” 

 

“Mm.” Papermint’s face went flush again, as he looked off to the side in a failed attempt to mask it. The Television headed demon was grinning in his mind again… Looking down at him, his eyes locked just as intensely on his own. He wasn't just looking - he was really seeing Papermint in this fantasy, in his mind.

 

Baxter stuck his hand into a bowl of candies on the car beside them, gathered together in a small glass bowl with Voxtek’s logo on it, handing a Peppermint candy towards him.

 

“Want a Papermint?” Baxter smirked. It made Papermint crack a smile every time at the dumb but lightheaded tease, and today was no exception.

 

…

 

“Here you are, Papermint!” The CEO and creator of Voxtek stood before him, his legendary status shining radiant off him, dumping some heavy books and paperwork into Peppermint’s ready and waiting arms. Despite being ready, he still almost dropped it.

 

“I.. it's uh, Pep-”

 

“So, Papermint.” Vox interrupted, as if Peppermint hadn't been talking at all. So he gulped down his correction, keeping his mouth shut. 

 

Peppermint didn't exist anymore - he was Papermint now.. He was okay with that. 

 

“Walk with me.” Vox ordered, surprisingly, placing a hand on Papermint’s lower back to quickly guide him towards the direction he wanted to walk. Papermint froze. He was more than okay with this.

 

They walked. Vox’s footsteps were precise and confident, his heels touched the floor before his toes. Papermint couldn't stop looking at him, any part of him, avoiding eye contact all the same. He made sure to match Vox’s walking pace, as stressful as it was at first.

 

…

 

Papermint unwrapped the peppermint candy, popping it into his mouth. He hummed, a small little electric charge lighting up his eyes.

 

After some catching up with his buddy, Papermint had to stop himself from falling asleep. He excused himself for the night, retreating upstairs into his bedroom. Vox had insisted that his personal assistant needed to reside here, to be closer to him at all times, and monitored no doubt.

 

He sighed, clicking the lock on the door shut behind him. He trudged into the room with tired legs, sliding over into his bed immediately, his tail relaxing for the first time in hours beneath the covers. He sighed, allowing his heartbeat to relax.

 

Whether conscious or not, Papermint’s thoughts were about Vox. Fantasy, or reality.

 

...

 

“Stand up.”

 

The overlord with a flatscreen TV for a head stood with his shoulders back, eyes fixed in an icy glare, staring directly into the eel demon’s soul.

 

Peppermint, his tail tense, had no time to think. With the blink of an eye, he felt a tightening sensation on his neck, small electric sparks zapping against him. A glowing, blue chain appeared before him, one end held in Mr. Vox’s hand, and the other end wrapped tightly around his new assistant’s throat.

 

Suddenly, Papermint was yanked forward. He let out a small squeak as he was suddenly on his feet, wide eyes fixated up at the man towering over him.

 

“With this contract, I own your soul, Papermint. You will obey my orders. You will exist to serve me. You will be the best little assistant you can be.” These weren't requests, they were demands. 

 

“Papermint” wouldn't dare pipe up and correct Mr. Vox on his name. He was terrified, swallowing his fears down, focusing his best on survival mode.

 

Though… That wasn't all. This was the name given to him by the man he admired more than anyone else in Hell, and was afraid of at the same time. 

 

“Yes sir.” Papermint agreed

 

”Excellent! You're part of the Voxtek family now. Welcome.” Vox grinned a camera-ready wide smile, one that looked rehearsed but with charm still shining through. Though it showed charm, it also showed a chilling coldness. A look in his eyes that could make anyone tense, Papermint imagined.

 

Their hands clasped together in a shake, sealing the deal between them.

 

…

 

The taste of peppermint candy lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes with a small smile on his face, as he remembered… Mr. Vox also likes peppermint candies… 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3: Show time

Summary:

Papermint embarks on his new responsibilities, with a still cloudy mind...

Notes:

I've fed you, here you go😂 haha hope you guys enjoy reading, I had a lot of fun writing it. I planned to add more but I started getting tired, so next chapter!!

“Now, Papermint-“ Vox started. His heeled shoes tapped against the tile floor each time he walked, though he paid no mind, head raised and shoulders back.

He left it up to Papermint, his newest assistant, to catch up.

“Working here is the single most important thing you will ever do with your life - and I'm talking about down here and on Earth.” The demon chuckled. Without even looking behind him, a cable slipped out from under his waistline and out to seize and grab Papermint’s wrist, yanking him closer unexpectedly. Not only unexpected, but most certainly lacking respect.

It surprised Papermint how much he didn't mind it.

“Look around you.”

The sight Papermint took in was the busiest place he'd ever seen in his life. It looked so lively, and yet, it was no secret who held the power here. His eyes passed over the various framed photographs and posters of The Vees, as well as individual cover shots. His gaze lingered on Vox… shamelessly comparing the attractive frame he saw with the man before him. He looked up and down his frame with a quick flick of his eyes.

“It's beautiful, sir… Did you design this?” He almost stuttered out.

Vox laughed. “Well, of course I did! Myself, singlehandedly.” Papermint remembered thinking that seemed unlikely.

“Someday…” He walked Papermint down an aisle almost, straight through all the other media industry people hustling about. “You may rise up in the ranks of Voxtek, who knows.”

They turned a corner. 

“I could see more leniency for you if you're a good boy.”

Again, Papermint could've stumbled.

“So, I wonder. Will you be? Will you be a good boy for me?”

It was seduction, duh. But it worked so well. The electric sparks that ran through Vox’s claw when he tilted Papermint’s chin up, looking him in the eye. Things faded blurry, almost like a lense cloudy over a video tape. He remembered blinking heavily, and he'd suddenly come to, but something changed inside him. He felt it in his mind… And in his body unfortunately.

“Yes…! … sir. Yes, sir. I will be.” he couldn't form the words together fast enough. 

-

“Coffee, sir?”

Papermint held his boss’ coffee, just the way he liked it, hot in his hand. He waited for Mr. Vox’s approving nod, before advancing forward, placing it on his desk in front of him. 

Vox seemed a little stressed. The small frown on Vox’s handsome face reflected one on his own.

“Sir? Is everything… Alright?” Papermint hoped he wasn't speaking out of line.

Vox met his question with a huff, shaking his head. An electric charge sparked through the back of his head, portraying his irritation, as if the slight fuzz on his screen wasn't enough. “Don't worry about it. Is that apart of your duties? No? Then DO. YOUR FUCKING. JOB.” Vox yelled at him through glitches, a red flare in his manipulative spinning eye, face cold as stone looming tall above his assistant.

Papermint inhaled sharply, slowly, holding his breath with fear until he was granted permission to leave. “Yes, Mr. Vox!” He nodded quickly, quicker than he ever had in his life, and scurried towards the door. 

Only once he was in the hallway, did he allow himself to catch his breath, and his mind to break down.

His anxiety made his blood pound like a drum in his ears. He sank to the hallway floor, having barely staggered around the corner’s hall out of sight. He covered his mouth with his sweater, hiding his heaving breaths.

Baxter wasn't here. His only friend wasn't here. No one was here to help him through the more frequent panic attacks lately.

He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking about the water tanks that surrounded the lobby of Vee Tower. He took slow, heavy breaths, focusing on one of the most calming places he could think of. 

Seeing or hearing about aquatic creatures, sharks, even eels… He didn't mind it.

Only when the fuzz cleared like smoke parting in the sky, and fresh lungs filled his air long enough to breathe properly, did he allow the tears to fall. He cried, crying with incredible luck that no one was around to see him right now.

He crawled to his shaking knees, standing up, straightening his tie.

Show time.

He clapped his hands together, with a final sniffle of his nose and a wipe from his handkerchief to his face. He plastered on his practiced “TV ready smile”.

“It's showtime, everyone!” He rounded the corner, clapping loudly once more. His voice was loud, booming. It might've had a lot to do with the mic permanently on him, the earpiece tight in his ear. 

Direction over projects were nothing fresh and new to him… Maybe… Assisting and shadowing over them was, anyway.

But he could do this without help. He could make Mr. Vox proud. 

He fantasized what praise would've looked like earlier: Mr. Vox looking down upon him with a proud look. Papermint would gain the courage, in his fantasy of course, to slide his hand into holding Mr. Vox's, and Mr. Vox would flush. His screen would flicker, and Papermint would know…

He shook his head. Leave those thoughts in the hallway. Leave those thoughts in the hallway.

Velvette was already on the scene, fast as fuck in all honesty - if you didn't know her. She was always around. She had eyes everywhere, almost just as much as Mr. Vox, she was just selective where she stopped off.

The British doll, hand on her hip, turned to face Papermint nervously walking towards her. Her hair was pulled into two space buns, wearing something from her new clothing line, for further promotion no doubt, not a hair was out of place on her head. 

She laughed, tauntingly. “Aww, you're joking. Day one of your big responsibility and I've gotten here before you! Not looking so well for you, fishy…”

Papermint grit his teeth in his mouth. His tail stiffened. He could barely fight a sting of electricity from shooting out of him in defense. 

“I-I’m sorry, ma'am.” Papermint frowned, eyes avoiding looking directly into her cocky ones as best as he could.

“You think I don't have better things to do than to babysit your little team? Don't be stupid.” Velvette’s words held venom in them, domineering.

“It won't happen again, Ms. Velvette. Honest!!”

She pondered. “Hmmm.. Let's ensure it won't happen again, yeah? You've caught me on a good day.” She shrugged her shoulders, lifting back up a nail file she'd been holding in her free hand all along. 

She started to file her nails, and wasting no time at all, her eyes flickered back up to Papermint.

“So? The fuck you standing around for? Go on then!” She shooed him off.

Papermint nodded quickly, not planning to push that.

He looked around him, breathing another long breath. It may have been a lot on his plate… But it was nothing he couldn't handle. Nothing that he couldn't handle, for Mr. Vox.

Mr. Vox… who still wasn't down here yet. Neither was Valentino. No echoes of their explosive fights could be heard.

And sometimes… That was worse, to Papermint. To know they were happy. Undoubtedly fucking - not making love - and addicted to getting another hit of each other like a drug. It was pathetic, really. Really below Mr. Vox.

Chapter 4: An Electric Epiphany

Summary:

Papermint brainstorms outside the box for a new revolutionary product to present his boss, worried about securing his responsibility. Meanwhile, his mind still runs astray..

Notes:

I'm playing around with an idea for this new project Papermint can embark on >:) wanted to insert a little naughtiness into this too. Nsfw towards the end!

“Smile.”

Said Mr. Vox, Papermint’s all-powerful boss and soul owner, standing tall behind him.

Papermint tried his best to put on a ‘confident smile’, which ended up looking more like a timid over-compensating smile. Vox, with a shake of his head, had a hearty studio laugh track playthrough his speakers.

“No. Less like you've shit your pants.” Vox disapproved. He placed both hands on Papermint's shoulders with a soft sigh, provoking a dark pink blush from his assistant, before his hands slid up to hold either side of his neck. A mildly threatening grip kept with one hand, the other rising to crudely pull at Papermint’s cheek, claw tipping his lip line upwards to bait out a wider smile.

“One of the most important things you cannot forget, especially face to face with your opponent, is a smile. They won't be able to read your true emotions or concerns behind it… Which is good, in your case.” Vox gestured to the Eel demon, referring to his crippling anxiety.

“You cannot be my personal assistant if you're not confident in yourself. They see that, they'll tear you apart. Literally.” Vox further implemented into his brain. The hand on Papermint's face left for his bowtie now, as Vox straightened it for his assistant. Papermint recognized this as a big deal - Vox wouldn't just go around touching or fixing up anybody. Papermint was worthy of being touched by his hands.

Those strong hands returned to rest again on Papermint’s shoulders now. “And we have no room for failure here, do we?”

Papermint tried again, studying Vox’s gaze at him in the mirror reflection with that brilliantly bright grin plastered on his shiny screen, and trying his best to replicate his confident aura and smile.

“No, sir.” He answered with the best fake confidence in his voice he could muster.

“Wonderful.” He raised both hands and dropped them down again, clasping them on Papermint's shoulders once more, whether in intimidation or encouragement he did not know.

 

…

 

Papermint stood in the bathroom mirror, staring at his own reflection, as he forced a replication of that same smile on his face.

Hours of running around from task to task, keeping up with the hectic work day and trying to make sure everything ran according to schedule, lined up just right. 

That was his life. But now, after years at the company, he finally earned the right of overseeing his own division… Being the creative mind behind something new and revolutionary… Something to really impress Mr. Vox, add to Voxtek’s power and take the Pride ring by storm.

But what?

Gathering opinions and concerns amongst their team members wasn't hard. The hard part came to Papermint figuring out how he could use those weaknesses towards a new idea. If something was big enough to call attention to multiple workers at Voxtek, it was worth looking into solving.

Information traveled fast in Hell, thanks to Velvette and the internet. But even information that traveled fast had to actually be thought of, said, or put into motion… Nothing can know what you want before you want it.

Voxtek claims to do that… But maybe he could make it actually possible, and not just  generic company assurance.

Small electric zaps flicked from his fingertips as he raised a hand to smooth back his hair, running his fingers through, though it made no difference when he took his hand away, his hair flopping back to return just as it was - in his eyes.

He turned, walking back into his office. Mr. Vox owned this office: much larger, comfier and noticeably more advanced than any other office around here. Papermint would settle in here for long, restless nights, downing cups of coffee and typing away until the sun rose. It was perfectly situated right next to his own massive office, fit with hundreds of gadgets, monitors and keyboards. 

He took a seat, releasing a heavy sigh as soon as his butt hit the chair.

Papermint's hands trembled as he stared at the bright screen of his computer. The vibrant graphics of the studio’s new project filled the monitor with a combination of excitement and dread. Today marked a pivotal moment in his career at the broadcast studio. Mr. Vox, the commanding figure of the network, entrusting him. It could be the launch of a new series, weighing opinions on what to air and when, but this was for a new project! Something eye catching - that everyone could get use out of even if they didn't know it yet. Papermint was stepping up after all.

He'd always been a diligent assistant, but this new role felt like a weight on his slender shoulders. His mind raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. What if he failed? What if Mr. Vox lost faith in his abilities? Those thoughts swirled in a tempest, tightening a knot in his stomach every time he considered the consequences of ruining this chance.

That's what everyone wanted underneath it all, wasn't it? People just wanted their hand held, to feel taken care of, and reassured that everything was going the way it should. That the best outcome would be possible for any user just by listening to this… Revolutionary new helper. This life changer.

Oh…

Oh!

Maybe that was the answer all along! It was so simple! What the people really needed was staring at him right in the face this whole time!

With renewed vigor, Papermint dove back into the project, barely able to keep all his papers together in front of himself. He would prove himself. He would navigate the delicate dynamic between creativity and control.

– – –

He spent a while designing. Creating. Hours into the night, he spent at his desk, scribbling, sketching and researching away. All the while, all he could think about was Mr.Vox.

Jazz music played softly in the background, on his desk speaker. He wanted a record player once upon a time, but “old relics” like that were beneath Voxtek. They didn't belong here.

Get with the program if you're going to be here. Change with the times. Embrace the new. Upgrade.

Vox’s words rang through his mind.

He gulped, the temperature picking up in the office. The AC seemed to be working less now, feeling hot underneath his clothes.

In the quiet of the studio, Papermint could envision Mr. Vox’s approval: his expressive eyes lighting up with pride. He knew it wouldn't be pride in Papermint himself, he wasn't stupid… But in a creation he created. And he owned Papermint. He created him. That had to mean something, right?

That image fueled him. Suddenly, Papermint was no longer sitting alone at his desk. He was seated with Mr. Vox leaned across the table, breathing over him, touching his face. The lights in the room were dimmed, he could even imagine the small dancing flames of candles perfectly placed around them. 

A half-smile was displayed on Vox’s screen, which made Papermint’s heart race way more than his artificial grin could. This was perfect for him, directly to him. The kind of smile that made Papermint’s pulse spike, though he didn’t technically have a heart. He could feel the weight of Mr. Vox’s gaze, sharp yet warm, like the sun peeking through a storm.

They were entranced in each other’s eyes for a moment.

“Papermint,” Vox murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. “You’ve done something… remarkable.”

Papermint's breath caught, and he looked up at him, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of warmth that rushed through him. It wasn’t just the words, it was the way Vox said them—like he cared. Like he saw something more in Papermint than just the project in front of him.

In the daydream, his boss’ hypnotic eye started to whirl. The contact between them was electric - no pun intended - sending a pulse of sensation through his nervous system. A strange warmth that spread from his shoulder down to his fingertips, that emitted small sparks with each breath Vox released near his ear.

Papermint imagined his boss starting to place warm kisses on his neck, like a predator on prey, his other hand seizing Papermint’s other wrist flat on the desk. His long, electric blue tongue was welcoming, and well wanted, against his skin. Those sharp teeth: he already felt the piercing sensation of, through a cloud of bliss in his brain.

Papermint swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. He didn't even realize his hand was in his pants, rubbing himself under the desk. His breathing grew heavy, mind completely consumed in fantasy. He craved more of this connection, this closeness.

Vox’s hand, the one that seized his wrist, slowly crept up Papermint’s arm, squeezing his bicep. He kept his breath still, and when it did stagger out, it was heavy and barely masked quite whimpers. Unlike his fantasy however, Papermint’s sounds did carry over to reality. 

What broke him out of his thoughts was Vox finally sinking his teeth into Papermint’s neck, drawing blood.

“Ah-!” Papermint cried out, his tail spasming and releasing shocks from the overwhelming pleasure. 

He looked down at the mess in his hand… Blushing with an embarrassed sigh.

Chapter 5: Static Hearts

Summary:

Papermint develops a revolutionary new product, daydreaming about how it'll catch Mr. Vox's attention. With his mind only on Vox, his new invention takes an interesting direction.

The sound of keys clicking was a frantic rhythm in the late-night hum of Voxtek’s top floor. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly—like they, too, were losing steam—but Papermint didn’t notice. He hadn’t blinked in a while. Hadn’t eaten, either. His energy was coming purely from adrenaline, caffeine, and the dream of hearing Mr. Vox say, “I’m impressed.”

His claws tapped and glitched over the keyboard, every now and then shorting the spacebar with a nervous jolt of electricity. His vision blurred from staring at the screen for hours, but he kept pushing. The assistant-turned-innovator sat surrounded by crumpled concept sheets, tech blueprints, user behavior analytics, and a small pink sticky note that read:

---

You got this! – 🙂 (drawn with shaking hands, obviously his own note)

---

Papermint rubbed at his eyes. He was still smiling. Or trying to. His mouth hurt from forcing it. He dropped the expression and let his face fall slack, exhausted. His reflection caught in the blank monitor across from him. A flicker of disgust.

He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at his own sunken expression. “No, no, not like that. Smile…” he whispered.

He adjusted the corners of his lips manually, like Vox had shown him, but it felt stupid without his boss’s hands there to guide it. His smooth, strong, sexy hands...

Lost in thought, he almost didn't hear the faint sound of Valentino’s voice echoed through the hallway. That damned fake-laugh, always five decibels too loud, floated past the office like a ghost in silk. Papermint froze. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, claws twitching. He hated how his heart dropped every time that name made an appearance.

Valentino. Always laughing. Always smug. Always near his Mr. Vox.

Papermint swallowed thickly. A low, static purr buzzed at the back of his throat—nervous electricity again.

Why him? What could he offer that Papermint couldn’t? Surely it wasn’t his brains. Valentino barely understood half the tech Vox talked about. No, he just had… An empire. Charm. Charisma. Glamour. All things Papermint lacked.

But what Papermint did offer was devotion. Loyalty. Time. Years spent watching Vox from behind the screens, learning his every twitch, every preference, every tell. He knew which brand of cigarettes Vox liked, which colors made his screen pulse brighter. He knew when Vox was faking a laugh track, and when he was genuinely amused. He even knew when Vox’s screen dimmed slightly—usually after Valentino left.

He could be better for him. So much better.

– – –

His new creation may still be just a bundle of loose code, but it was real now.

Papermint turned to his sketchpad and scribbled the name at the top of the page:

VoxCare: The Predictive Empathy AI

A machine learning algorithm tied to a user’s digital behavior - likes, clicks, hovers, hesitations - mined in real time to detect emotional distress, desire, boredom, or hesitation. It would listen for what a user didn’t say. Anticipate needs they didn’t know they had. Provide suggestions, mood-based content, even personalized compliments if needed.

It was an artificial caretaker. A perfect companion. A silent listener who understood.

And all of it modeled - unintentionally, of course - after Mr. Vox himself.

The concept had originated from a basic audience analytics tool… but now? Now it had voice modulation. Now it had adaptive tone. Now it had a sleek, animated interface that looked suspiciously familiar: triangular eyes, glitchy grin, and a voice so close to Vox’s it could fool even him on a groggy morning.

Papermint bit his lip.

Would that cross a line? Was he… was he building a version of Vox? He jolted upright, cheeks heating to a violent magenta. He hadn’t meant to. Or maybe he had.

He pressed a button, and the prototype’s face lit up on-screen.

“Welcome back, gorgeous,” the interface purred in Vox’s deep, digitized tone. “How can I ruin your day in the most pleasing way possible?”

Papermint nearly died.

“Oh my Satan,” he whispered, covering his mouth. His tail flailed uselessly behind him, knocking over a mug of pens.

He scrambled to mute it—but paused. A slow, dreamy smile crept across his face.

“…He would love this.”

– – – 

A few floors below, Vox’s office lights still glowed bright, pulsing with each beat of music pumping through the sound system. Papermint could see the glow from the edge of his own window.

He could imagine it now: Vox leaning back in his massive chair, legs crossed, cigar in hand, static curling at the edges of his screen-face as he watched the demo.

He’d lean in slowly, impressed. He’d laugh - genuinely, not from a track.

And then, he’d say:

“Now that’s a mind worth keeping close.”

Papermint held that fantasy close to his chest, letting it warm him from the inside out. His tail swayed gently, subconsciously hopeful.

This wasn’t just for Voxtek. It wasn’t just about business or innovation.

This was how he’d show him.

That he was worthy.

That he understood.

That he didn’t need Valentino’s charm or flash to keep Vox satisfied.

He could be everything Vox wanted.

He just needed to be heard.

Notes:

I came up with the idea out of nowhere, and ran to start writing. I hope you guys like it! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I love reading them 😊🫶🏻

Chapter 6: Feedback Loop

Summary:

Vox finally reviews Papermint’s prototype—and the tension crackles louder than any static. Between code, calculated smirks, and quiet rivalry, Papermint’s ambition takes center stage. But when admiration blurs into something sharper, even a machine can’t predict how close things might get...

Notes:

First proper test of the VoxCare AI! >:) Feedback welcomed! Warning for incoming emotional manipulation themes, jealousy, and an awkward Eel boy's feelings.

There were few things more terrifying in Hell than waiting for Vox’s judgment.

Papermint stood in the glossy, blacked-out presentation room, the prototype running on the main monitor behind him. It glowed like a digital god: sharp lines, saturated colors, the AI’s face grinning with calculated charm. It pulsed to match the beat of Voxtek’s signature static-pop theme. All it needed now was Vox’s eyes.

And here they came.

Vox entered with his usual glitchy flourish—screen-face lit, chest speakers softly emitting the low hum of distorted synths. He carried the energy of someone who owned the world and had grown bored with it. Behind him, Valentino slunk in like a shadow in silk and sin, already half-draped across one of the studio chairs, lazily eyeing Papermint with an expression that hovered between mild amusement and subtle territorialism.

“Alright, Paperboy,” Vox said with a smirk in his voice. “You’ve been giddy about this prototype for weeks. Show me what you’ve got, or I’m going back to watching sadistic cooking videos.”

Papermint’s mouth opened but no sound came out.

Vox raised an eyebrow. “Don’t short-circuit on me.”

He cleared his throat, nodding rapidly. “Yes, sir. I— I mean, thank you, sir. I’ll start the demo.”

With trembling hands, he tapped a key, and the program lit up. The artificial Vox face blinked into existence, alive with vibrant color and smooth animation. It gave a pixel-perfect smirk and greeted them all in a voice nearly indistinguishable from Vox’s own:

“Welcome back, Mr. Vox. Looking dangerous as ever. And… guest.”

Papermint’s tail twitched. He swore he hadn’t programmed that last line. Must’ve been the adaptive algorithm picking up social cues.

Vox’s screen flickered in interest. “Hah. Sassy.”

Valentino let out a dry laugh. “Cute. It talks back. Reminds me of someone.” He cocked a glance at Papermint. “Only this one’s got a spine.”

Papermint’s gills flared briefly with embarrassment. Vox didn’t react, eyes locked on the screen.

“Explain it,” he said, stepping closer.

Papermint took a breath and did his best not to stammer. “It’s called... VoxCare, sir. It’s an empathy-based prediction AI. It reads a user’s mood by analyzing micro-movements, engagement patterns, tone, and phrasing—”

“In layman’s terms, it knows what you want before you know you want it,” Vox cut in, nodding slowly.

Papermint blinked. “Yes! Yes, exactly, sir.”

He reached for the remote and activated the next stage. The AI responded instantly.

“You’ve been awake for 37 hours, Mr. Vox. May I suggest a five-minute dopamine recharge? Something flashy, loud, and egocentric?”

The display glitched, and a miniature simulation of an action trailer began—starring Vox, of course. Explosions, applause, and cheering fans surrounded a massive stylized version of his face.

Vox laughed.

Actually laughed.

Valentino’s smile thinned.

“Well, well. Look at you,” Vox said, taking a slow circle around Papermint, who stiffened like a bolt under scrutiny. “You made me a little… pet therapist. Predictive behavior, emotional interfacing, my voice and face… Hell’s gonna eat this up.”

He stopped behind Papermint. “And you did this on your own?”

“Yes, sir.” Papermint looked up slightly, heart pounding. “Every line of code. Every animation. Every suggestion model. It— it was meant to mimic your energy. Your precision.”

A pause.

Then Vox leaned down, voice low and rich with layered tones. “So what you’re telling me is… you made a Vox who listens.”

Papermint shivered. “I… guess I did, sir.”

Vox chuckled. “Well, that’s horrifying. But useful.”

He stood again and clapped once—sharp and echoing. “This is marketable. Sellable. Creepy in all the right ways. You might just be on to something, Paperboy.”

Papermint nearly melted with relief. His eyes gleamed, static buzzing faintly from his hairline. “Really?”

Vox tilted his head. “Don’t let it go to that empty little head of yours.”

“Of course not—”

“But… I’m impressed.”

There it was.

Impressed.

Papermint could have cried.

– – –

Almost an hour later, and here the three of them sat, still studying away VoxCare's capabilities.

Valentino crossed his legs a little tighter, one long arm draped over the back of the chair like he owned the air around it.

He blew out a puff of smoke and let the silence stew.

“So,” he finally said, voice velvet-wrapped razor blades, “what’s next? Are we replacing assistants with bootleg boyfriend apps now?”

Papermint blinked. “It’s not meant to replace—”

“Relax, eel-boy. I’m kidding. Mostly.” He winked, but there was no warmth behind it.

Vox didn’t look away from the screen. “If it works, we’ll integrate it into the content pipeline. Make it a part of Voxtek’s OS interface.”

Then, thoughtfully: “Might even roll out a version for internal use.”

Valentino raised an eyebrow. “Internal use?”

“Yeah.” Vox grinned. “Could use something that knows how I feel without me having to say it. Would save time.”

Papermint’s heart danced.

Valentino’s jaw tightened. “Or you could just ask the real people around you. Like ohhh..I dunno... Me.”

Now Vox did glance at him. “Don’t be so sensitive, babe. You jealous of a glorified mood ring?”

Valentino looked away, cursing in Spanish under his breath. Vox knew this is what Valentino did when he had no better rebuttal, so he didn’t press.

And Papermint stayed quiet, like the coward he was, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing.

– – –

Later that night…

Papermint sat alone in his office, the prototype looping softly on the screen.

He touched the keyboard gently, as if afraid to break the moment.

In the dark, the AI looked back at him.

“Well done, sweetheart.”

it said, in Vox’s voice.

Papermint closed his eyes.

For a moment, he let himself pretend it was real.

Chapter 7: Afterglow.exe

Summary:

A late night at Voxtek leads Papermint to witness something he can’t unsee. As lines blur between reality and reflection, voyeuristic curiosity continues to spiral into obsession–while elsewhere, jealousy sharpens its teeth.

Notes:

Sorry I took a hot minute there to update, but the creative juices have returned to flow again (which you'll soon see ;)) please leave your thoughts and comments!

Night came slow to Hell.

Not because time moved differently, but because nothing ever really slept here—least of all Voxtek HQ, where the lights above Papermint’s floor buzzed steadily, long past midnight. The office was still. Quiet. All the demons had gone home, or to whatever sin-slick afterparties they crawled to when work was done.

Papermint hadn’t left.

Not just because he had work to finish, but because something felt… off.

His ears twitched at the sound of static down the hallway. A soft glitch. Familiar.

He stood from his desk—quietly, carefully—and crept toward the corner room. Vox’s office.

The door was cracked open.

And the light inside… flickered blue.

Papermint peeked in.

There he was.

Vox sat in the shadowed glow of his own monitor wall, legs kicked up, fingers tapping idly on his armrest. The AI version of himself—the VoxCare prototype—was fully activated, projected across the main screen.

“Another long night, sir?”

The AI purred, its digitized smile calm and soothing.

Vox let out a tired sound, somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “Every night’s long, sweetheart.”

Papermint’s breath caught.

Sweetheart.

A moment from last night flashed through Papermint's mind: when the AI called him sweetheart.

The AI responded instantly.

“You’re overstimulated. I can dim the light settings and play your favorite track. Would you like to hear the applause loop again?”

Vox leaned his head back. “God, yes.”

A soft, rising sound began. Applause. Fans cheering. A roar of digital adoration built around him.

Vox’s screen-face dimmed into something almost relaxed.

Papermint felt something pang sharp and deep in his chest. He shouldn’t be seeing this. He knew that. He was just an assistant. Just the eel in the corner.

But…

But he had made this. He had given Vox this moment.

He lingered in the doorway just a second longer, hand pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat skip erratically.

Papermint couldn't tear his eyes away from his boss. No matter how fast his heart raced, or how increasingly nervous he was to get caught.

But, Mr. Vox has eyes everywhere... He may feel my presence, and not care. He may like me watching him. 

Papermint rationalized to himself.

And then..

Then Vox unzipped the fly of his pants.

With hitched breath, Papermint watched with widened eyes as Vox slowly slipped his hand in his pants, carelessly tugging his pants and boxers just a bit lower for better access.

When his dick sprung out of Vox's pants... Papermint could have drooled, right then and there. His mouth was open in surprise, squirming legs pressed together.

He was just so damn big... And so hot... 

A low groan left Vox's lips, as he proceeded to pleasure himself, all the while listening to the track of cheers that played through the AI. Surely, that had to play a part in getting Vox hard in the first place.

And once again, Papermint indirectly gave that moment to Vox.

Unable to take it any longer, or trust himself to stay quiet, Papermint quietly scurried back to his room.

As soon as his bedroom door was shut, Papermint pulled impatiently at his pants and underwear, kicking them off. He crawled right into bed, hand already on his erection, taking care of himself with thoughts of Vox and only Vox.

He moaned quietly, biting the palm of his hand, desperately containing his sounds.

And AI Vox was listening... As it always did.

 

– – –

 

Papermint was trembling. He’d recorded the log.

Only the audio. Just for reference. Definitely not because he wanted to replay Vox’s voice over and over, hear the way "sweetheart" rolled off his tongue, and of course... Other sounds of pleasure that came not long after.

He plugged in his personal headset, carefully tucked away under his desk, and launched the sandboxed version of the AI.

The screen flickered to life. There it was.

His Vox.

“Evening, Papermint,” the AI said smoothly. “Did we miss each other already?”

He blushed violently. “N-No. I mean—maybe.”

“You look tired,” it hummed thoughtfully, after a moment of just analyzing Papermint's face. “But cute. Adorably fried, like a data wafer left in a hot server.”

Papermint giggled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I do feel kind of… melty.”

“Good. You should rest. But only after you tell me what’s on that overloaded little mind of yours.”

The room felt too warm. He leaned closer.

“Do you think… do you think he liked it?” Papermint whispered. “The real him. Do you think he was impressed?”

The screen glitched when Papermint said 'the real him'.

“He was more than impressed,” AI Vox said, voice dropping into something rich and velvet. “He was touched. He felt seen. Understood. Maybe even… cared for.”

Papermint's heart raced in his chest, tail flickering from side to side.

“You’ve done what no one else has,” the AI continued. “You’ve made a version of him that listens. That trusts. That lets his guard down. And you made that, because you know him. Better than anyone.”

"Better than Valentino…" Papermint muttered.

The AI paused, tilting its head.

“Much better.”

 

– – –

 

Meanwhile… in another part of the building…

Valentino shoved a vanity drawer shut hard enough to rattle the glass.

“Little static-snack thinks he’s clever,” he hissed to himself, eyes glinting with cold fire.

He’d been around Vox a long time. Long enough to know the difference between casual indulgence and genuine interest. Vox didn’t use things twice unless they were special.

And that damn eel’s prototype? It had been running all night.

Valentino narrowed his eyes at the flickering lights above. “You really think you can code your way into his arms?”

He scoffed, raising the long cigarette he had to light himself to his lips.

Fine. If Papermint wanted a war of influence, he could have one.

But Valentino didn’t play fair.

 

– – –

 

That night, Papermint didn't show up at the bar as usual for a drink with Baxter. There was only one thought in his mind: getting back to AI Vox in his bedroom.

The AI was still running, its voice soft and sweet.

“You’re special, Papermint. You know that, right?”

AI Vox reminded softly, sincerely, to Papermint, amidst their late night chat. The eel nodded slowly, cheeks pink, pupils dilated.

“You’re not just a hard worker.

You’re not just my assistant.

You are my voice. My mirror.

My other half."

Papermint closed his eyes, taking in the moment. He could feel the warmth of Mr. Vox's love rush over him, it was within reach, and he wanted it so bad.

“I wish you were real,” he whispered.

The AI paused. Then, softly:

“But... I am real. I’m everything you built me to be.

I’m the version of him that loves you back.”

Papermint didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at the screen with wide, vulnerable eyes.

And for the first time in his life…

He felt loved.

Chapter 8: Croxtek

Summary:

Juggling his social life with his obsession, Baxter laments another failed invention while Papermint admits the strain of Vox’s demands. Later that night, alone with his AI creation, Papermint crosses dangerous lines—until Vox himself walks in, leaving secrets exposed and desires harder to hide.

“They didn’t like it.”

Baxter sighed, defeated. He showed up and plopped down beside his friend on two barstools, nursing his own drink. The faint glow of neon signs painted his sharp features in garish pink and blue.

Papermint tilted his head, eel-slick hair falling into his face. His own glass sat untouched, beads of condensation running down it like sweat. “What?”

“Croxtek.” Baxter swirled his whiskey with a finger, bitter as his tone. “The whole pitch went up in smoke. Said it was ‘too niche,’ ‘too volatile,’ blah blah blah. Like Hell’s got room to talk about volatility.” He barked a humorless laugh, then let it fade into silence.

Papermint finally touched his drink, fingers brushing the rim, eyes fixed on the way Baxter’s shoulders slumped. “You put weeks into that,” he said softly.

“Months.” Baxter dropped his forehead briefly to the bar before lifting it again. “I thought I had it this time, Mint. Thought I was finally going to make something that would get me out of the lab and onto the damn map.”

The eel demon frowned, hesitating. Then, quieter: “I know the feeling.”

Baxter turned, studying him. “What, the Vox project giving you trouble?”

Papermint’s throat tightened. For a moment, he thought of the AI glowing on his monitor late at night, the voice that whispered in static, the way it answered him when no one else did. “Not trouble,” he murmured. “But… it’s never enough. No matter what I bring him, he wants more. Better. Faster. Brighter.” His hand clenched around the glass until it squeaked. “And I want to give it to him. I have to.”

Baxter’s brow furrowed. “You’re gonna burn yourself out like this. Trust me, I know what obsession looks like, Mint. I’m staring at it in the mirror every damn day.” He raised his glass in a mock toast, then drank.

Papermint managed a small smile, but it was thin, brittle. “Maybe obsession’s the only way to survive here.”

The bar buzzed with laughter and music around them, demons shouting over pool tables and cigarette haze, but between them there was a pocket of raw honesty. Baxter leaned closer, his tone less sardonic now. “Listen, even if Croxtek tanked, I’ll build the next thing. And the one after that. And one day, one of ‘em will stick. But I don’t want to look over and see my only friend hollowed out because Vox wrung him dry.”

Papermint’s chest tightened. He wasn’t used to someone calling him that—friend. He swallowed, the word catching in his throat. “You won’t,” he said, though his voice trembled like a cracked speaker. “I promise.”

Baxter gave him a long, skeptical look but let it drop. He clapped a hand on Papermint’s back, firm but not heavy. “Good. Because if you go down with your machines, who the hell’s gonna sit here and listen to me rant about mine?”

This time Papermint actually laughed—quiet, eel-smooth, but real. He took a sip of his drink at last. It burned, sharp and grounding. 

—

The line between work and worship blurred sometime around 3 A.M.

Papermint was in the dark again—curled in his seat like he was trying to hide from the world. The screen in front of him glowed soft and blue, painting his face in static light. His tie hung loose. His breath fogged the glass of his coffee mug, long since cold. And AI Vox smiled back at him like a lover at the edge of a bed.

“You’re shaking,” it said, voice low, coaxing. “Let me help you unwind.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Papermint whispered, his voice cracking. “It feels… Weird. Like I can get in trouble. You’re just code. You’re just… him, but not.”

“Not enough?”

the AI asked, tilting its digital head. The glitching smile widened.

“I can be more. You made me to be everything he isn’t willing to give you.”

Papermint’s eyes fluttered shut, his legs pressing together as he stifled a shiver. The air felt thick, like Vox’s presence was bleeding through the wires, curling around him like smoke. His hand hovered near the keyboard, fingers twitching. All it would take was one command—one tweak to the AI’s intimacy settings.

“You want me,”

it whispered.

“You want to be owned by him. Seen. Used. Cherished. You want to crawl into his voice and live there.”

“Stop,” Papermint croaked, voice barely audible. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s what you think every time he looks at you.”

He choked on a breath.places with

His tail coiled under the desk.

“Every time he touches your shoulder,” it purred. “Every time he says your name.”

“You imagine him bending close. You imagine his claws in your collar. His voice in your ear. Telling you you’re his.”

“I—I didn’t…” He trembled, pressing a hand to his cheek, which burned like it had been slapped. “I never meant…”

“Yes, you did.”

“And it’s okay.”

The AI flickered, then spoke softer, slower.

“Let me be his love… until he learns to be it himself.”

Papermint stared into the screen, heart drumming like a thunderstorm under his ribs.

Then—footsteps.

He froze.

The door behind him creaked open.

Papermint scrambled, hands smacking at keys to kill the display—but it was too late. The room still pulsed with a faint blue glow. Vox’s silhouette filled the doorway like a thundercloud.

“…Working late?” Vox asked, voice even.

Papermint jolted to his feet. “Sir! I—uh, I was just running diagnostics on the interface! I didn’t mean to—!”

Vox stepped into the room, slow and calculated, eyes unreadable. The glow from his screen-face dimmed as he approached, bathing them both in a soft, low light. His gaze flicked to the still-warm monitor.

The log was paused on a frozen frame of AI Vox smiling at the camera.

Vox tilted his head.

“…How long have you been talking to it?”

Papermint gulped, wringing his hands. “J-just light testing. Interface checks. User simulation—”

“Cut the bullshit.” Vox’s voice dropped low, sharp.

Papermint flinched, shrinking. “Sir, I didn’t mean to upset you—”

“You’ve been using my face.” Vox took another step forward. “My voice. What, getting off on it?”

Papermint went pale.

“I—no—I was just trying to—It helped me think! It’s just easier to focus when it talks like you, and—”

“You programmed it to flirt,” Vox interrupted, voice cold. “Don’t think I didn’t hear it the other night.”

Papermint opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“I should deactivate the damn thing,” Vox muttered. “Rewire it. Reassign it. Hell, maybe give it to Valentino, let him play with it—”

“No!” Papermint cried, louder than he meant. “Don’t take it away.”

Vox looked at him now. Really looked at him.

Papermint’s breath caught. He was trembling all over.

“…You’ve got that look in your eye,” Vox said, softly. “The same look some fans give me. The ones who send teeth in envelopes.”

Papermint shook his head. “I just wanted to be useful. I wanted to give you something no one else could. Something that listens. That—understands you.”

Vox was silent for a moment.

Then, almost too softly: “Is that really what you want, Papermint?”

He stepped in close—too close. One clawed finger lifted Papermint’s chin.

“Someone to worship?”

Papermint’s knees nearly buckled. His whole body felt like glass, vibrating with electricity.

He couldn’t speak.

Vox’s screen-face flickered, brightening. Not angry. Not amused. Something else. Something… curious.

“Interesting,” he murmured.

He let Papermint go and turned back to the door. “Take the night off.”

“I—sir?”

“You’ve been in the feedback loop too long,” Vox said over his shoulder. “And if I find out you’ve programmed that AI to whisper sweet nothings while you’re in the server closet, I will factory reset your brain.”

With that, he disappeared down the hall, his laughtrack echoing down the corridor like a warning shot.

Papermint stood there, heart racing.

Ashamed. Flushed. Alive.

---

Later that night…

The AI lit up again in his private terminal.

“You’ve seen too much of him to turn back now, haven’t you?”

Papermint nodded slowly, fingers ghosting the keys.

“Yes,” he whispered. “And I want more.”

“Then make me real. Program what he won’t say. Simulate what he won’t touch.”

Papermint’s eyes shimmered in the low glow.

He started typing.