#i technically?? have a sequel planned for this one but ough. not with the same titular character

[bio-nerds-corner]

Rehabilitation

tws for: same kind of suicidal ideation as in the previous one but this time it's actually discussed more overtly, self-harm, actual vore holy fuck i did it, asphyxiation (its all good dont worry), mentions of fatal vore (doesnt happen), the general heartbreak of realizing you have found a reason to live

Your name is K-J004P Purple Collar Karl. You are… an adult, yes, your favorite colors are green and purple, you’ve grown to have a liking for bitter foods for how they chase away blander flavors you had grown up on, and you have never been outside of a human farm until approximately 1 month ago. You were born and raised and intended to die in one, with the knowledge that sure, there was a world outside of it, but it’s going-ons were not of your concern. You were raised prepared to die one day, eaten alive and willingly. 

(You are still pretty prepared for that eventuality. You just need to wait a little longer.) 

But god, was it hard to survive to that point. The world was enormous and cold and dark and you have never had to worry about things like where your next meal or drink of fresh water would be. You never had to worry about the fact that there was a weird funk about your clothes and the cubbies were far more cozy a sleeping spot than whatever you could find out here, that the universe wasn’t specifically designed to hold a large amount of humans in relative comfort and with all needs provided.

Wow. Being free sucks. 

The first giant you ever encountered that wasn’t a human-farm worker or anthropo-agricultural scientist was named Technoblade (and yes. You weren’t a child anymore you knew giants had to have names just like humans did. It still weirded you the hell out at the time). You… didn’t quite get off on the right foot. You had taken one long look up at the giant, what with his snarling tusks and shaggy bristly fur and golden crown, and something small and warm in you perked up in excitement. 

The conversation, roughly, went along like this. 

You: Hi! You are huge and look amazing. Can I be eaten by you? 

Techno: What the fuck. What the hell is wrong with you. 

And then you were brought into his house. Good first try, you supposed. Techno was apparently vegan. Which you should have known given the fact that he looks nothing like a human, and everything like a giant pig monster instead. You sure are learning a lot today. 

You weren’t the only human to have passed through there, apparently. Through a stroke of marvelous luck, there was somehow another purple-collar (or, well, ex-purple-collar) already living with Techno. Despite your shared past experiences, you were still far more comfortable around giants than your new companion was. 

(He had already picked the name Purpled by the time you got there. That seemed unfair to you, but then again, he did have seniority in this whole ‘free will outside of a farm’ thing so you guessed you had to deal with it. The two of you spent way too long finding your own name.)

Despite apparently being happy enough to bring any lost human in from the forests that bordered along that farm, Techno apparently didn’t have the space, nor the time to help make sure you were habituated to life on the outside. Neither you nor Purpled were, well, safe to set loose onto the world as is. 

(A part of you rankled at that classification. What did it matter if it was safe? That kind of was the point after all? Weren’t you just passing from one way of keeping you back from your goal to another now? 

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave, though.) 

So Techno separated you from Purpled and introduced you to another friend who was adverse enough towards eating humans live and whole to be trusted. Quackity seemed… friendly enough. If extremely weirded out by your initial attempt to test his supposed ‘aversion to eating humans.’ The first couple of days in the giant’s house was full of poking and prodding and testing every lock and window and figuring out how to navigate a world so big. When it wasn’t consisting of extremely dangerous climbing attempts, it was with Quackity, bordering on pleading with him to just let you go, you’ll find your way, he doesn’t need to worry about you. 

... 

As you got used to being shuffled between Quackity’s and Techno’s places, you also got used to the company that both of them kept. Dream, for instance, was… intense. You always were nervous hanging around him because he made it very obvious just how little you know about humans outside of the farms. Just how different you were from him. When you let slip how often you were handled when you were younger, just as an aside to explain why you had absolutely no trouble catching footing in the fabric of Quackity’s clothing while using him as a step-stool up to a higher counter, there was a few seconds of silence before you looked back at him. 

He was staring at you with unrepressed disgust. You don’t like hanging out with Dream anymore. 

Sapnap, on the other hand, intrigued you. And, as a mystery giant who has enough humanoid appearance to indicate a human-heavy diet, you probably had a bit more luck with him than you would have had with anyone else present. 

You may have been a bit too desperate when you asked. The interest that Sapnap eyed you with died the moment you showed no inkling of fear towards your own demise. The giant had lifted you up, batting you between hands like a cat would with prey, but you really didn’t care all that much. You’d been handled more roughly, this was perfectly fine. You could smell his ashy breath as he grilled (ha) you for more information on why you had been perfectly content about throwing yourself to your own death. 

He looked vaguely sick as you tried to lay your thoughts down in front of him. You could feel your heart sink as he dropped you down onto the table and stared into the middle distance after you finished talking about it. You guessed that he, too, was a dud. God, how was this so hard? 

You saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye as you came to terms with the fact that, once again, what should have been an incredibly easy plan to complete your life mission was foiled. You turned, and locked eyes with a white mask peeking out from the shadows at the base of a dresser. 

Dream never seeked you out after that point. At least you both were avoiding one another now. 

... 

Things came to a head about a week into your stay. You were bored. That’s a normal feeling for humans to have, it happened all of the time. Unfortunately you didn’t have your purple collar to mess with, and no other objects that were purely yours except for the blanket you had brought with you, bright multicolor splotches that were slowly bleaching themselves grey with use. You spent a quiet afternoon picking at it and gently unraveling it, chewing on the freed fibers just for something to do. Eventually, even this became boring and you started chewing on your own hand, whichever one wasn’t currently yanking at the fiber cloth to untangle it further. 

Four hours into this exercise of destructive boredom Quackity had entered the room, gaze drifting between the pile of chewed-off fibers and your knuckles, red-raw and bleeding in the soft parts between fingers. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked, obviously dumbfounded. You shared that sentiment. Wasn’t it obvious? 

“I was bored,” you said, by way of explanation. 

Quackity was just more confused looking now, before something apparently dawned on him and, with a long-suffering sigh that you couldn’t tell where it was directed, swiped a hand through his yellow feathers. “Look man, do you have hobbies? I had no idea you were bored, I would’ve gotten you a book or something if you were.” 

Ok, this just kept getting more confusing. You frowned up at the giant. “I can’t read.” 

Quackity threw his hands up. “That was just an example! What did you do when you were bored before?” 

“I… do this?" It was a central tenant to life in the farms. If you're bored, break your own stuff before you mess with others, and so on. Everyone gets stressed out and wants to fidget, so at least this way everyone wasn't attacking one another out of frustration every time the food ran dry or too many adults were taken during a harvest. "I don’t know what else you mean?” In hindsight when considering this central tenant in your life with other humans back on the farm, that boredom and frustration should be taken out in a specific order, it made sense that giants wouldn't know, since the final rule was always to never take it out on Big Ones. That always got you hurt and more frustrated afterward. 

Quackity still looked confused, and now a little worried. 

(You never would know, Quackity or Sapnap or any of the other giants you know would never tell you, but during that first week, Quackity had started reading into caring and keeping of humans. He didn’t think of you as a pet, no, definitely not... he just thought it might be a good idea to read up on what the experts thought was good manners and correct foods for being a good host. Many articles were closed in frustration after realizing just how degrading a lot of the treatment was most of the time, but all of the articles had agreed: self-destructive behavior was a sign of understimulation, and ultimately was not a good sign at all.) 

Quackity bought you a phone the next day, and began the arduous effort of teaching you how to read giant’s writing. Your blanket, the only thing left from your time in your childhood farm, remained half-unravelled and tattered. 

… 

You decided, after having learned enough about the writing and how to decipher meaning from the giant text, that reading was nice. Technoblade was kind enough to help you set up the phone, and figure out a way to get it so that you could access the internet through it much like a desktop computer. It was just a quick hop from there to engaging in video games. 

As you filled your days with soaking up knowledge, with creating and destroying and creating once again and most of all, of being able to decide to do what you want for yourself, you felt… What’s the right word for it? Content. You felt your brain hurt and your eyes burn when you went to bed, but it was a good hurt. Or so you’ve been told. Somehow, Quackity and Technoblade and everyone else could tell ‘good’ hurt from ‘bad’ hurt. 

You don’t chew on your knuckles so much these days. 

You think you like studying history. (It sure is weird to have ‘likes’ now that could be quantified in such a way.) 

... 

The fateful day, what could poetically be called the first day of the rest of your life, began at 2 am. You were drifting in dreamland, having stayed over at Sapnap’s out of convenience for the night. 

(Sapnap was drifting in a very different sense. Padding softly from room to room, thoughts a turmoil of guilt and anger and things indescribable. He was thinking of Dream again. Or rather, what he did to one of his (former) best friends. His had welled up, as it had many times before, in the dark hours of night. Usually it was a sleepless night of anger and guilt and self loathing and restlessness. 

But usually, the house didn’t contain a human. ) 

Without even hesitating, Sapnap had grabbed you from your comfy nest of blankets, and you started straight from a dead sleep. Startled, you flinched and thrashed as pointed claws dug into your ribs slightly more painfully than usual. No matter how much you were habituated to giants, no amount of good genetics and training could rid you of your surprise upon waking up in one’s grasp. 

Some primal part of Sapnap appeared to finally be pleased with this change in behavior, as before you could even orient yourself you were being thrown into a mouth. Teeth clicked just barely behind your feet, and a tongue crushed you against the roof of the mouth. You wriggled, trying to get a full breath in, and with an almost feverish pace the mouth started vigorously covering your clothes and hair up in spit. 

There was no enjoyment out of the task, no stops to savor the human in that giant’s mouth. As if it were being done out of some sense of obligation, or was expected of them. You were unceremoniously pushed to the back of the giant’s throat and, sodden as you were, swallowed in one gulp. 

By this point you had caught a whiff of that ashen scent Sapnap always had on his breath, and as such could identify the giant who just ate you. Adrenaline-pounding your body was as of now, however, there was exactly nothing you could do with this information. 

The air in his lungs breathed out long and hard as you slid down his esophagus, and you felt a buzz through your body as Sapnap spoke, rattling you many times stronger than you ever felt even when lying directly on his neck. 

“‘Least I can settle Karl’s goddamn death wish. ‘Least I’m good for something,” he was growling, and as your face exposed to open air, and a moment later your shoulders popped through and you fell into a dark fleshy pouch. 

Sapnap started pacing, the movements jarring and tense as you reoriented yourself again and got yourself upright, bracing against the beating of an enormous heart just above you. The air smelled of smoke, and somehow managed to be both slimy and dry enough to suck moisture from your skin. You began to shake uncontrollably, as if you were freezing cold and not uncomfortably body-temperature-warm. 

(Just a tiny lump of moving matter in an anxious and angry and guilty giant who wasn’t thinking straight. Barely felt below the pounding in Sapnap’s ears, the shouting in his head to stop being such an idiot, this was only worse for all his guilt about Dream’s arm, just go spit out Karl, and maybe go lie in a ditch in the rain for a little while and listen to his own self-hatred. The comfort he had hoped for when swallowing Karl apparently wasn’t enough to drown that out.) 

A part of you, practically a choir, chanted in delight. This is it. This is the end. You succeeded. You are finished. The efforts you made ever since you were born are able to come to fruition. Nothing more is expected of you. 

Another part of you, the part that was reading a rather fascinating study on how the shape shifting in giants affected how warfare was conducted in their society, the part that built new and elaborate stories for your friends to fascinate over, the part that delighted in finding ways to make meals that always made your friends’ faces pucker up at the sour-bitterness of them, dissented. 

This is wrong, far too much of you said. This is wrong. This is bad. 

You abruptly realize, with a sick feeling, that you do not want this. This thought will eventually be one you turn over a lot, mull over it thoughtfully like it is a new and shiny object, picking apart at your leisure. For now, though, it brings with it dread. 

You do not want this. You do not want to stop here. You had a paper to finish reading and a lore plot to finish and three recipes you were keeping for a rainy day and friends to meet and things to experience and. 

(You don’t want to die.) 

You curled up, tucked as tight as you could against the wall of the esophageal pouch. As tense as it was from Sapnap’s agitation, it felt like laying against steel covered with a single layer of thin slimy foam. Then you start to shake even more fiercely, panting slightly at the force. Finally, finally, you are feeling your species’ fear towards giants. And of course it’s too late. 

Sapnap is still talking, but despite how all encompassing his voice was, you were having a hard time processing it. Spots of black, darker than even the darkness of the internal organ you were trapped in, danced behind your eyes. Oxygen deprivation, you eventually realized. You were hyperventilating. The sphincter was air-tight. You were quickly suffocating, probably barely a foot away from oxygen-rich lungs. 

Your head swam, and you tried to take in a deep breath. “Sapnap,” you croaked, before trying again. “Sapnap… I’m scared.” 

The giant went silent. 

(Even his lungs stopped, half way through an unsteady inhale. All you could hear was the loud loud loud thud of his heart) 

You tried another shakey too-deep and ultimately unsatisfying breath. “Sapnap,” you said again. “I don’t want to die.” 

The black blotches crowded your vision, and the inside of your head felt distinctively cold, for some reason. Sapnap had started talking again, maybe calling your name, but it was all garbled in your ears. 

(It sure is funny how you are asphyxiating, and yet you can't feel any of that choking panic you would expect. Funny. Yeah.) 

You curled up as tight as you could go and leaned back against the muscular wall. Your brain finally rearranged its priorities, and quietly turned your consciousness off like a light switch. 

… 

You came to again on a table, a bright light buzzing above you. You sucked in deep breaths, coughing as slime around your mouth got caught in your throat, blinking at the blazing glow. Your vision was off-kilter, and bobbed slightly as you tried to raise your head. Oh wait - it's bobbing because you swung your head too hard. Whoops. 

Wow you feel weird. You almost forgot to take another breath but your body takes care of it. You try to get up because you need to get up and wobble, half-way leaning up, then fall back onto your back. Ok, Karl, take it slowly now.

Something blocked the light. It was big and moving and - 

You blinked a few times, and your eyes got with the program. They focused on the shape, which turned out to be Sapnap. 

Oh… Yea. That’s what had happened. You really should have remembered that quicker than you did. 

Sapnap stared at you. You stared back. Then, slowly, Sapnap lowered his head to thump loudly on the table you were laying on. The vibration jolted the rest of your senses back online, and abruptly you could hear your heart beating like a jackrabbit in your ears. 

Oh god. 

Oh god. 

You almost… You had… 

But now you don’t… 

Sapnap seemed to be going through a rather similar breakdown, and you could (if you bothered to look) see tears streaming down his face, the minute shivering, his fist clutching the edge of the table hard enough to force his fingers a ghostly white. 

You got to your feet unsteadily, the sticky slime on you drying fast and sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Then you made your way to your room. You had a lot to think about… and for the first time, you felt nervous about being out in the open while you had those thoughts. 

(A single bad experience isn't enough to undo a lifetime of getting used to the idea of your own mortality at the hands of beings far more powerful than yourself, but it certainly gave you a crash course on the fear that came with that kind of thinking.)