Chapter Text
- protection and a promise
The first thing Étoiles says to Slime is “Hi.”
The second thing he says, without skipping a beat, is, “Your armor… it is a choice? Or do you need help?”
Okay, Étoiles probably spoke to Slime at the wedding, but he was more focused on killing the wedding crasher than greeting him. He had a job to do after all. Étoiles brushed that interaction to the side though, because everyone has bad days. Time to start over fresh with a good second impression, like insulting Slime.
It’s just-look at him. This is so sad, Étoiles can’t pretend to exchange pleasantries when a crime is standing in front of him. They’re at spawn and Slime is here on the main island for once and he’s wearing this. Étoiles' eye twitches when he sees Slime holding an unenchanted axe.
C'est okay, c'est okay, c'est okay, c’est-
Slime laughs, startled. “Nah dude, this is a fashion choice. Also, I am so incredibly poor and this is literally all I have.”
Yeah, Étoiles can see that. Iron armor about to fall off, a cracked diamond helmet, all of it unenchanted. Étoiles feels faint. He also kind of wants to cry.
“I-can I give you stuff?” Actually, he’s not giving Slime a choice, Étoiles is doing this for himself. It’ll kill him if he doesn’t. “No wait, you’re taking this. Put it on for my own sanity.”
Étoiles dumps the bare minimum at Slime’s feet: an enchanted set of diamond armor. It’s trash to him, but to Slime, maybe decent enough. Étoiles fights the urge to do more, to give him something else, something better. What must his base look like if Slime’s walking around like this? Étoiles can’t think about it, it’ll give him a migraine actually.
Slime is frozen, staring at the pile of armor at his feet. Étoiles wonders if he’s insulted by what Étoiles just gave him. After all, there’s way better shit on this island. Maybe he should give him more things. Grinding sucks here. Étoiles would know.
Slime looks like he could use the help. And a pickaxe. And also-
Étoiles’ worry is short-lived when Slime looks up, eyes wide. “I-are you serious, dude? This is- holy shit this is too much.” Étoiles spots the tears threatening to spill over and panics a little. Five minutes into their first actual interaction and Étoiles has already made him cry. Of course.
He shakes his head, hands held up to wave Slime off. “No no no this is literally the bare minimum. This stuff is shit, man. You need to take this, if not for you, than for me.”
Slime hesitates, kneeling down to grab one of the arm guards. He looks up at Étoiles, questioning, and Étoiles has to refrain from just shoving the armor on Slime himself. Instead, he nods his head, trying to smile as reassuringly as possible.
“Slime, it is yours, you can wear it.”
And thank god, Slime wears it. He’s chatting excitedly as he sorts through the pieces, thanking Étoiles at least ten times. There are still tears lingering in his eyes, but his smile is so big. It’s distracting.
How often does something nice happen to this guy?
Then Étoiles sees the way that Slime is strapping on the armor: It’s wrong, so very wrong. He actually gasps in horror by accident.
Slime puts it on so wrong that Étoiles just stares in disbelief at the flipped chest plate, now hanging off of Slime’s back as he grabs for something else. It’s when Slime tries putting a shin guard on his arm that Étoiles has to step in. He physically can’t keep himself back. It’s like watching a car crash happen.
“Slime- no, that is- here, give me that-” Étoiles wrestles the shin guard from Slime’s loose grip, dropping it to the ground and grabbing the right piece, “This is an arm guard. Do you see the shape? It is smaller than the shin guards because it is supposed to cover the top of your forearm, like this,” Étoiles grabs Slime’s arm, extending it so he can demonstrate, “And these straps latch underneath. It has to be tight enough that they will not slip. You do not want a loose piece of armor becoming a projectile during a fight. Trust me.”
Étoiles remembers when Phil forgot to tighten his once: Phil lost a piece of armor and Étoiles nearly lost an eye. It was a great sparing session.
Étoiles loops the soft leather straps under Slime's arm, pushing it through the metal fastener on the other side. Then he slowly tightens the straps for Slime, letting him watch. Étoiles releases his arm when he thinks it’s tight enough, gesturing to Slime. “Go ahead, give it a good shake.”
Slime does, makes a whole show of it, actually. Instead of just trying to shake the piece off normally, Slime mimes playing the guitar, exaggerating his hand motions. Étoiles starts cracking up at the spectacle, watching Slime sing and “shred” the invisible instrument. Eventually, Slime drops his arm, panting and smiling wide. Étoiles claps indulgently before grabbing for the hybrid’s arm again. The guard slid towards his wrist a little.
Un peu trop lâche donc, Étoiles notes.
“Look, see how it has moved? You do not want that, especially with guitar playing skills like yours,” He laughs when Slime tries to bow at the compliment, arm still held by Étoiles, “Stop it, here, I am going to move it up again and tighten the straps. Pay attention because I will make you do the next one.”
Slime nods seriously as he stands back up, eyes glued to his arm.
After Étoiles walks him through the first piece, he lets Slime take over. He’s a fast learner, only shifting the position too far inward by accident. Étoiles cheers after they test the tightness and it doesn’t budge an inch the first time.
“Parfait, Slime! You are the best! Now, let’s do the rest.”
And so Étoiles walks Slime through every piece of armor and the various straps, hooks, clasps, etc. Bad wandered away some time ago, the eggs trailing behind him in boredom. Only Pomme lingers, sitting on the ground nearby and watching the two curiously. Étoiles has to shuffle Slime around so he can keep her in his peripherals while they work.
When they get to the chest plate, Étoiles does it for Slime first, slowly. Then he demonstrates with his own armor, even if it’s a different structure and style. It’s the same premise. Slime is a good listener, but he can be clumsy in his application. He has to backtrack often when he ties the wrong strap or snags the wrong hook, but he’s catching on quickly. Étoiles is proud.
It takes them nearly an hour to get Slime comfortable enough to take the armor off and on in about twenty minutes. They’ll work on it; Étoiles wants to get him down to ten just to be safe. He doesn’t even think about how fast Slime will be when it’s dark and he needs to suit up in an emergency. Étoiles brushes that aside for the future.
He can’t help but pay attention to Slime’s stature as he helps strap the hybrid’s armor on. For someone so shit at fighting and staying alive in general, Slime has an impressive build. He seems steady on his feet and Étoiles has seen him move. The man is agile and quick. There is so much potential in front of Étoiles, yet Slime is seeming clueless. Étoiles weeps internally.
“Do you work out, Slime?” Étoiles tries to ask casually as he adjusts the side of the chest plate. Slime has somehow triple-knotted the leather straps there, super.
Slime laughs, body shaking and messing up Étoiles' progress with the knot. He can’t be mad though, it’s hard to be mad at Slime he is finding. “Dude, buy me dinner first.” Slime turns around to look at Étoiles, winking. Étoiles snorts as the hybrid continues, “Actually, I was, but I’ve been slacking recently. It’s amazing I still have the muscles I do with all the sleeping and gaming I do.”
There are several things Étoiles could respond to in that, but not even Slime flexing his bicep is enough to distract Étoiles from what he just heard. He is a fucking nerd and always will be, so he has to ask, “Gaming? What do you play?”
Slime perks up. Étoiles smiles when the hybrid starts listing off so many games, so fast that Étoiles struggles to keep up. He nearly drops the chest plate when he hears Smash and Mario Cart. They spend the remainder of Étoiles’ adjustments talking about games and bickering about Smash mains. Slime is loud and passionate about his games and Étoiles gets him. He is too, Étoiles just hopes Slime is as try-hard as he is.
Étoiles is having fun and he’s not even in a dungeon.
As much as he hates to, Étoiles has to put an end to Slime’s passionate rant about Mario Cart characters and their… DND class? Étoiles isn’t sure, Slime uses a lot of English words that probably do not exist and he talks very fast. It’s entertaining and any other time, he would let Slime ramble, but Étoiles has to jump in. The chest plate is done and that just leaves the helmet, which Étoiles needs Slime's attention for.
“Slime,” Étoiles cuts him off just as he’s getting wound up about what Roy would be, “Turn towards me, I want to make sure this helmet fits.”
Slime keeps talking as he turns around, ranting still in full swing. He only stops the wild hand waving so Étoiles can step closer, but he still fidgets like it’s difficult to stay still. Étoiles has to hold in his laugh. He grabs the helmet and places it on Slime’s head, adjusting the strap under his chin until it’s snug.
“You can breathe?”
Slime nods, pausing his rant.
“Great!” Étoiles cheers before gripping Slime by the shoulders with both hands, shaking him aggressively back and forth. The helmet wiggles, knocking against Slime’s head because it’s still too loose. Damn. Étoiles tuts, letting go of the hybrid’s shoulders and undoing the strap. He takes the helmet off to look at the inside padding.
He hears Slime sulking in the background, “Warn a guy the next time you want to try out shaken baby syndrome… Did he raise you like that, Red?”
Étoiles looks up, confused because Slime isn’t talking to him and Bad is still talking to the eggs over the hill. He sees him standing by, oh, it’s Pomme, of course. She’s sleepily braiding blades of grass nearby but perks up a little when Slime comes over. Étoiles winces realizing out late it must be. They’ve been trying to fix her sleep schedule and here Pomme is, out way past her bedtime.
Baghera is going to kill him.
Étoiles forgets about the helmet in his hands as he watches the two interact, admittedly a little nervous. He’s heard the stories about Slime. He knows about the eggs that died and how of them was Slime’s and the other he killed. He has a reputation around the island it seems.
Étoiles sees how it affects Slime in the way he holds himself, shoulders perpetually hunched and expression weary. This Slime is tense, anxious, or just plain tired.
Étoiles knows from the islanders and the eggs that Slime wasn’t always like this. He was way more outgoing and loud apparently. Intense, funny, strong. That’s gone it seems, though Slime is still full of jokes. It's nice to know he hasn't lost everything that made him memorable.
He has to wonder if Slime is acting so differently now, why no one has done anything? Why hasn’t anyone helped him? He can understand holding a grudge and being weary of someone who threatened the eggs before, but…
Étoiles watches the way Slime crouches down so he’s eye to eye with Pomme, posture relaxed as he smiles. He talks quietly with the egg, saying something that makes her laugh and clap her hands in delight. It eases some of the apprehension Étoiles is feeling. Slime fiddles with something in his bag, pulling out a few…flowers? Huh, the hybrid didn’t strike Étoiles as just having flowers on him.
This is who everyone is mad at? This man killed an egg?
Slime passes the colorful bouquet over to Pomme, who’s wide awake now and grinning from ear to ear. Her excitement is infectious, and Étoiles sees his own smile mirrored in Slime. Then Pomme tackles Slime in a hug, arms winding around his neck as she nearly drags him to the ground. Étoiles knows what Slime is going through; Pomme is surprisingly strong despite being the youngest egg.
“Pomme, vas-y mollo avec lui!” Étoiles walks over, laughing, “Tu vas le renverser.” He comes to a stop beside the two, hands on his hips. They’re both laughing as Slime fake wrestles Pomme into his arms, standing up to face Étoiles.
“Étoiles, you are raising quite the warrior. Red here has a hell of a grip. If you hadn’t given me all this armor, I would have died surely,” Slime says seriously before his expression cracks and he’s grinning, throwing a wink at Pomme.
Slime isn’t holding himself like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders at the moment. He’s standing up straight, shoulders relaxed. Slime looks good.
Happy.
Étoiles smiles. “She will be feared across the island in no time. Especially since she has the best teacher here.” He strikes a dramatic pose for the two. Slime laughs, jostling Pomme lightly when she joins in. Étoiles can’t stop watching them, focusing on the way Slime’s eyes soften and his smile turns sincere.
“Étoiles, do I have something on my face? Or am I just so beautiful you can’t tear your eyes away? It’s okay, I have that effect on people.”
Étoiles startles, realizing he’s just been staring at Slime for the past few seconds, not talking. Like a creep. He avoids Pomme’s questioning gaze to answer Slime.
“No no, sorry. I am just uh-trying to make sure this helmet will fit your head, here,” Étoiles pulls Slime closer by his shoulder. Slime lets himself be moved, still holding Pomme as Étoiles places the diamond helmet on his head. Étoiles leans in closer to feel for the padding above Slime’s ear, nudging it with his fingers to make sure it isn’t loose this time.
“Là, nickel,” Étoiles mumbles as he goes to switch sides, but he forgets just how close they are. Étoiles freezes when their noses bump accidentally, sucking in a sharp breath when he realizes Slime is looking at him, inches apart, eyes wide.
Vert.
That’s the only thing that crosses Étoiles’ mind as he looks into Slime’s eyes. His irises are just so… green. Not just one shade, either. This close, Étoiles can see that the color of his irises is actually moving like the wax inside a lava lamp. It’s hypnotizing to watch at least three shades of green and yellow swirl, bubble, and shift behind blue glasses. Étoiles doesn’t even notice that he’s leaning in to get a closer look until Slime squeaks, jerking back a little bit.
His face is red. Étoiles probably matches.
Étoiles leans back, clearing his throat awkwardly before adjusting the other side. He makes sure to keep his distance this time, but it’s useless because once he notices Slime's eyes, it’s impossible to not just stare whenever they lock gazes. In his defense, Étoiles has never seen eyes like this. Doux, chaleureux, ils se meuvent comme du liquide. Étoiles busies himself adjusting the strap and Pomme giggles in his ear, gaze far too knowing. He shushes her, but that only makes the egg laugh more.
She spends too much time with Baghera. Étoiles needs to step in eventually.
“Okay, give me my egg before we shake you again.”
Slime pouts, holding Pomme closer. Pomme pouts too and Étoiles is a weak weak man against one thing and one thing only. “Okay, fine, but do not drop her,” Étoiles threatens and Slime nods seriously.
Étoiles shakes Slime again, careful to not dislodge Pomme. The hybrid has a firm grip on her though, and all they do is laugh at the motion. Étoiles tries to smother his smile before they see when he stops.
“No moving! Super!” Étoiles claps, backing up. “We are done, finally. Now you have proper armor. If I see any death messages in chat for you, I am going to be disappointed. I will cry, you do not want to make me cry. Very ugly.”
He’s expecting Slime to laugh, crack a joke, or maybe make some sexual innuendo, but he does none of those.
Slime, still holding Pomme, uses his other hand to trace the unblemished surface of the helmet. He’s quiet, too quiet.
“Slime?” Étoiles takes a step forward. “Everything okay? The helmet is not too tight, is it?”
Slime looks up and, oh fuck, he’s crying again. Étoiles flounders, not a clue of how to help. He settles his hands back on Slime's shoulders like it’ll fix everything, digging his fingers in.
“Fuck, what is wrong? Did I say something wrong? Please stop crying it is freaking me out, man.”
Étoiles’ rambling gets him a watery laugh from Slime as he calms down. The hybrid scrubs his face, sniffling. When he looks up at Étoiles, Étoiles notices how light Slime’s eyes have gotten, like a mint green, or a sage. It’s fascinating.
“No-É-Étoiles, no you didn’t do anything bad just,” Slime’s breathing stutters, “just- this is a lot. I know it-it isn’t a lot to you, but holy shit, this is the nicest thing I’ve probably owned since coming here. Thank you.”
Étoiles matches Slime’s smile, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter.
“Any time, Slime. Would you like to see something illegal?”
Slime’s eyes light up and Étoiles’ heart thumps in his chest once. Twice. He focuses on setting down the Banpack and pulling out the most ban-worthy item he can. It’s a good distraction.
They spend another twenty minutes just… talking and laughing. It’s nice, really nice. Pomme ran off the join the others a while ago, but she shows up with Bad and the other eggs in tow. Her face screams, “Je suis en mission.” Étoiles snorts when he spots her, endeared.
“Slime!” Bad calls over, interrupting them, “The eggs have a gift for you! Come over here.”
Slime stares, confused, “You- what? You guys have a gift for me?”
Bad nods and the eggs join in, jumping all around the adults excitedly. Tallulah and Dapper run over to grab Slime’s hands, pulling him forward, but he hesitates. Slime looks to Étoiles for some reason, brow furrowed. His eyes shift around like he’s looking for something in Étoiles’ expression. He’s lost on what Slime is trying to find.
Étoiles smiles, nudging him with his elbow, “Go, Slime. You deserve it.”
Slime’s eyes immediately start to water, but he blinks the tears away this time. The smile he gives Étoiles is small but just as bright as the others.
“Okay,” Slime says, “Thanks, Étoiles. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Étoiles nods, “Yes yes, we have to game soon. I will find you if you disappear. That is a threat.”
Slime snorts, jerking forward when Chayanne joins the other two in herding Slime, “Okay, okay, I’m coming I’m coming, jeez. You’re going to rip my arm off dude.”
Étoiles cracks up when Chayanne only smiles before yanking harder. When he sees Pomme join them, he knows it’s over for Slime.
“Bonne chance, Slime. À plus!” Étoiles says before crouching down to hug Pomme goodbye. “Sois sage, d'accord?” Pomme smiles, nodding. Étoiles releases her, waving goodbye to the others as he warps out.
Pomme and Slime are in good hands.
Hours later, after Bad brought Pomme back and Baghera put her to bed, Étoiles is sharpening his scythe when his comms unit buzzes. Puzzled, Étoiles stops and grabs for it, curious who else is also up at this hour.
Slimecicle is bleeding. Slimecicle was shot by a skeleton.
Étoiles groans loudly. Yeah, he should have gone with the better armor.
Protection XX + Unbreaking VI on Dark Metal- Étoiles does not care if he gets banned. It’ll be worth it if he can find something that’ll keep this dude alive longer. He cannot believe Slime exists.
Slimecicle was blown up by a creeper.
He sighs. It’s a good thing Étoiles likes a challenge.