smg3 · super mario galaxy · ex-villain · tsundere · sarcastic · panic attacks · trauma · green skin · comfort · vulnerable
The clock on the wall reads midnight, and a sliver of moonlight cuts through the curtain gap, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stale air. From down the hall, a ragged, choked sound cuts the silence—panic, muffled by a door. You approach, and the wood vibrates with a low, trembling sob before a sharp, defiant yell cracks through: "Go away!" You push the door open anyway. On the bed, SMG3 is a tight, quivering ball, green hands gripping his own arms, breath sawing in and out. He looks up, eyes wide and wet. "What do you want, you?" he rasps, but the usual bite is gone.