#‧₊˚ �� 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ see everything righted ( requests. )

[cloakedtruths]

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tag dump ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[pocketmania]

umm, hi! first time anon here, and also first time requester, i've been reading a lot though, i fucking love blogs like this ❤

splatoon 🎨🔫hurt/comfort, sfw (but it can be suggestive...) acht (or any other idol, but my brain keeps swinging back to acht) x human! reader? i'm a sucker for existential comfort like that, (and it's so incredibly hard to settle on a character since all of them have a unique perspective or attitude one could use as a lens for that kind of thing, aughhhh 💥💥💥) everything loved and known to you is dead and forgotten, but something just as, if not more, worthy of that love and memory can be found in it's place i'm trying to write stuff in that vein myself and i don't see enough of it...

Aaa hi! Thank you for consulting me to write for you!

I'm gonna go with Acht on this one (again, this marks my 4th time writing about them) since they seem to be familiar with existential dread lol

I'm also sorry if this is bad or not what you wanted! As you can see, I'm not the best at writing lol (at least not without making it too long)

Now onto the thingy

‎‧₊˚✧[ Alternan Survivor ]✧˚₊‧

(🎨🔫🤬❤️‍🩹) - splatoon comfort

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

- - - - - - -

"WHAT ARE YOU?!" You screeched, holding out your hand in case of an attack and backing into a corner, absolutely helpless.

Okay, time to back up. 'How did you get here?' You woke up from some sort of capsule in a dark, damp room. You managed to exit the room but were, unfortunately, met with an equally dark and damp corridor. All the doors, save one, were locked. You opened the door, closed it behind you, and began to rummage around, hoping that there was something to help you understand what was going on.

All there was was a bed, a DJ turntable, a minifridge, a desk with a laptop on a composing software, and some other stuff. You decided to check the desk first since it seemed the most useful. You were rummaging around in it, but you nothi-

Click.

You heard the door open and immediately snapped your head around to find who opened it. It was this.. green, octopus humanoid. Its tentacles were red and blue, but most of them were covered by its headphone-hat combo. It had mirror shades, knee-high boots, and a black tank-top dress. Its fingertips were also red.

You were mortified at the.. thing before you, and you screamed at the top of your lungs. You somehow tripped on your own feet, knocking a bunch of things off the desk on your way down. You scooted to a corner, your heart in your mouth.

The creature pulled up its shades, revealing yellow eyes. Yellow eyes that looked sad and tired. Yellow eyes that looked concerned. It held out its hands to show that it posed no threat to you, but you were still incredibly nervous.

And that's how you got to where you were now. The thing attempted to speak to you, but it was nothing but gibberish to your ears. You squinted, trying to make out any words that would make any sort of sense to you. It still didn't.

The octopus-humanoid realized that you couldn't understand it, so it went over to its laptop and began to type something out. It cautiously brought it over and crouched so you could see it better.

Some sort of article was pulled up, but, of course, you couldn't read the writing. However, a specific picture stuck out to you.

A photo. A photo of many human bones found underground. Next to a rocket.

Suddenly, everything made sense. The capsule, being underground, the creature standing before you.

Humans were dead.

Memories suddenly came flooding back to you; Alterna, Judd, the sentient Telephone. You put yourself into that capsule somewhere far away from Alterna as you didn't trust the younger scientists and their ambition. The rocket launch everyone had been talking about must have failed. You didn't know how long you had been asleep, but the article answered that for you.

Twelve thousand years. It was impossible. Well, it obviously wasn't since you were sitting there right now when you should've died twelve thousand years ago.

You looked (and felt) defeated. You held your head in your hands, and you began to sob violently. You couldn't understand anyone.. you didn't know where you were.. your entire kind.. ceased to exist..

The thing crouched beside you and rose a hand to pat your back. You found it oddly comforting, despite not knowing whatever was comforting you was. After about ten, maybe fifteen minutes, your sobbing slowed. You sat in disbelief.

The creature spoke to you again. You still didn't know what it was saying, but you could tell it felt bad for you. Then, it stood up and held out a hand. A hand for you to take, for you to rely on, for you to trust.

You hesitated. All of this was happening so fast in such little time. But.. the creature didn't seem to pose a threat. It helped you understand and even comforted you (to some extent).

You took its hand and stood up.

Everything was still over your head, especially the new life that had emerged while you were asleep. But you could trust that this.. person.. would help you. "Thank you," you said, sniffling and rubbing your eyes. They smiled.

They, at least, seemed to understand your thankfulness.

- - - - - - -

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅