#referenced starvation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegeniusofplaytimeco · 20 days ago

Text

Chapter 14: In a Silent Way

It continues: In the depths of the Playtime Co. factory, you recently faced Huggy Wuggy. You tricked him and sent him straight to death.

You meet Poppy and later even Mommy Long Legs - but are they really a challenge for the genius?

You are also beginning to change, even if it is barely noticeable. It seems as if your journey to redemption is beginning.

---

Here I am again!

Yes, it took a little longer, at least I think so.

Christmas was great, and I celebrated New Year too (not like the people who shoot a thousand rockets into the streets, but that doesn't matter). Anyway, I'm back now.

For those who haven't understood it yet: Now the story really gets going! Pure character development for our reader, but also for the other characters as they also change in the factory.

I don't want to give too much away just yet, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

wc: 8.6k

---

"♫ -On the hiiiiighway to hell-♫ "

Can't she finally shut up?

The group is still here, between the many metal catwalks that lead to the Poppy Room. Cold metal creaks under your footsteps, the darkness interrupted only by flickering light.

The break earlier was short, the critters had eaten something, but the tension remains. Your mind is running at full speed, as always. You analyze everything - the position of the critters, possible injuries, any weakness that could be dangerous now. Your thoughts jump ahead: scenarios of what could await you behind the door with the spray-painted flower.

But she walks next to you.

Olivia.

The woman you've only just met. Her posture, her movements, everything about her seems... different. Too relaxed, too carefree. She doesn't seem to feel the tension, or she's deliberately ignoring it.

"♫ -Hiiighway to hell-♫ "

You breathe out calmly, but the sound of her humming still stings your head.

"♫ -On the highwaaay to-♫ "

You turn your head slightly towards her, but say nothing. Words would be unnecessary, a waste of time. Besides, she's not worth it anyway, as stupid as she is.

She notices your look, stops humming and grins as if she's caught you doing something. "What, you don't like AC/DC?"

You don't answer. Your gaze returns to the door.

She's so damn annoying, why is she even running with us? If she hadn't found us, she'd probably be down there in a pile of corpses right now.

Behind you, the critters whisper softly. Kickin looks nervous, his movements restless. Hoppy, on the other hand, is determined as ever - her gaze fixed on the door. You memorize these details without letting it interfere with your focus.

"All right, boss." Olivia shrugs and laughs softly, but you notice the slight scorn in her voice. "I'll let you have your moment."

This takes you a few steps further. Your thoughts, always analytical, always rational, drift for a moment in a less rational direction.

In my gun, in the second compartment at the top, there should still be the pistol.

Your gaze glides unobtrusively over to her. Olivia walks beside you, her steps springy, as if she's running across a playground rather than through the cold, ominous hallways of Playtime Co. Her silly blonde hair, her goofy outfit not in the least bit appropriate for this environment.

After every fourth step, she takes a little jump. Like a child. A childish, careless behavior that irritates you almost more than the sounds of the old metal corridors below you.

Then there's that ridiculous smile. Broad, carefree, as if you had narrowly escaped a deadly situation twenty minutes ago.

Should I kill her?

The thought comes quietly, coldly, like an algorithm that checks whether a variable should be removed to increase efficiency. Without the critters noticing, it could work. It would save food. Energy. Problems.

But just as quickly as the thought came to you, you pick it apart in your head.

If they found out - and it wouldn't be particularly hard to find out - it would traumatize the group. It would take them time to process it, and time is the last thing we have.

Another hum enters your thoughts.

"♫ -And I'm goin' down, All the way-♫ "

You feel your train of thought sharpening, almost becoming more critical.

It just gives me reasons to question everything even more closely, doesn't it?

You ignore it, like so many things. But in a tiny corner of your mind, its energy lingers. Not because she's important in any way - but because she's... different. Different from anyone you've ever met before.

She should use her energy to think. Maybe then she wouldn't be so mentally absent all the time.

Your gaze turns forward, to the door with the huge flower above it. Each step brings you closer, and your mind returns to what waits beyond that door. Every variable, every possibility is weighed up.

Behind you, the critters are still whispering quietly to each other, but their voices are like background noise that barely catches your attention.

And Olivia? She continues to hum. Quieter and quieter, but just loud enough for you to hear.

"You know, I once had someone in my class who was a bit like you," she says suddenly.

You don't react. You don't look at her. Your steps remain steady and your gaze remains fixed on the door with the spray-painted flower. But you can feel it - the critter's eyes resting on both of you. Their stare is palpable, as if they could thicken the air between you.

"He was the only one who read through the instructions for his calculator," she continues, in a voice that almost sounds like she's telling a secret. "Always liked politics, too. You know, that boring shit."

Do I really have to listen to this stupid shit all the time now?

You exhale quietly, more out of reflex than frustration, and calculate in your head how much energy you could save if she would just stop talking. No humming, no slogans, no stories. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you analyze every aspect of the surroundings.

Olivia notices your lack of reaction - of course she does - but she remains unfazed. "Well, anyway. The guy was totally boring, but he explained math to all of us when we got stuck. I mean, he really felt like a genius."

You feel a slight twitch at the corner of your mouth, which you immediately suppress. What is she trying to achieve?

"The funny thing was," she continues, "he was really smart. But he had zero idea how to deal with people. Just like you."

The words hang in the air. The critters fall silent behind you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye.

She smiles at you - wide, unwavering, without a trace of fear or restraint. That stupid, stupid grin that slowly burns itself into your mind.

Maybe I should kill her after all.

"But hey!" she suddenly says, almost shouts it, and turns her whole body towards you. Her grin only widens. "It's not your fault. I mean, I've felt like an outsider my whole life too."

It shows, idiot.

You get closer and closer to the door with the flower. The metal catwalks no longer divide, the path is now straight ahead - a direct corridor to your destination.

Olivia takes a step back. You notice it in the corner of your eye, hear it in her light footsteps on the metal and smell the coffee she obviously drank earlier. The smell fades the more distance she keeps.

"You're all so cute!" she suddenly shouts. With a single, exaggerated step, she wraps her arms around DogDay and hugs him tightly while stroking his fur.

The other critters stop abruptly, their gazes alternating between Olivia and you.

She does know that underneath the fur and plastic layer are the innards of a child, doesn't she? How stupid and crazy is she?

"Hey, Y/N."

Bubba is suddenly standing next to you. Of course you notice him - you always notice everything. You had already noticed his presence minutes before, but now he speaks to you directly.

His gaze is questioning, curious, a hint of uncertainty in his posture. He uses this brief interval while you're all just waiting for Olivia to tell you something.

"What do you think of her? Can we trust her?"

You answer without hesitation. "She's stupid, childish and completely incompetent."

Bubba seems slightly surprised, but you continue.

"She doesn't know when to shut up, speaks without thinking and does things without thinking them through."

Bubba remains silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as if he is trying to read more into your words than you are revealing.

"But she hasn't let us down yet," he finally says quietly.

You say nothing. Your eyes fix on the flower on the door as you take the last few steps towards it.

When you reach the door, you and Bubba turn around. The sight is, as you would expect, irritating.

Olivia does what she does best: doing idiotic shit.

She hugs the critters one by one, her movements exaggerated, her voice an octave too high as she makes silly noises and talks to them as if they were pets.

"Uhhh! Who's a good puppy?!" she exclaims as she pats DogDay's head exaggeratedly.

"You're so fluffy!" she adds as she strokes Hoppy's ears.

"CatNap, you smell so mysterious!" she says as she almost forces the visibly annoyed Critter into a hug.

"You're so cute, Crafty!" Olivia grins from ear to ear, while Crafty paces nervously, unsure how to react.

The critters look different - some confused, others annoyed, some even seem to enjoy the unexpected chaos.

"How much time do you expect we have left?" Bubba finally asks, his voice low as if he doesn't want to disturb the scene in front of you.

You answer without taking your eyes off Olivia as she continues with her idiotic comments. "I don't expect. I know."

Bubba looks at you blankly, waiting for more.

"We have to hurry," you continue. "At the current pace, we're just under an hour behind schedule."

Bubba nods slowly, taking your hint seriously, although his eyes keep wandering to Olivia and the critters. "And what do we do with... her?" he finally asks, his voice even softer.

You don't answer. Instead, you let your eyes wander briefly to Olivia, who is trying to give Kickin a high-five as he flicks his wings at her hand.

It wastes energy, time and sanity. But in this moment - this irritating, chaotic moment - she does what you can't do: She makes the group smile.

You watch them, their silly movements, the critters' laughter, Bubba's soft giggles. And for a moment - just a fraction of a second - you think back.

Of course, you saved their lives by getting them out of the factory. But you gave them the life they now lead - dirty, locked up, disturbing - in the first place.

Even at home, when you ordered pizza and they were all sitting around the table, or when you explained the plan for this whole "mission" to them. You can't remember smiling. And if you can't remember it, that means it didn't happen.

For a brief moment - less than a second - you feel a strange sensation in your stomach. Not pain, not hunger, but something else. An unpleasant tug that you can't immediately place.

Your eyes remain fixed on Olivia, still clinging to the critter. DogDay looks confused, but he lets her be. Crafty is visibly nervous, while Hoppy eyes her with her arms crossed, almost as if to reprimand Olivia.

"A heart full of sentimentality is dangerous, you know that Y/N."

There it was again. Elliot Ludwig's voice, which you haven't heard for weeks, and yet it sounds as clear in your head as if he were standing right behind you.

It reminds you of something that you should already know.

Feelings are a weakness. They make you careless and interfere with clear decisions. You know that. You've always known it.

Olivia laughs loudly, a shrill, incongruous sound in the silence of the metallic catwalks. DogDay wags his tail slightly, a reflex he can't control, and Bubba, who is always so serious and analytical, seems... less tense.

Your eyes return to the door. This is your destination. You are the only one who can make sure you reach it.

But still - this second, this feeling, remains.

Without further hesitation, you turn around and open the brown wooden door. The sound is heavy and drawn out, almost like a sigh, and a long corridor awaits you behind it.

Yellow wallpaper adorns the walls, the color is faded and uneven. Simple lamps hang every few meters, their light is weak and casts shadows on the walls.

You don't wait for the others. Without a word, you enter and walk on alone. Your footsteps echo on the wood beneath you as you feel Bubba following a few meters behind you.

The stairs in front of you lead downwards, creaking under your weight. You go lower, following the long corridor, and meanwhile your mind drifts off into thoughts.

From -0 to 0.

What was I thinking?

The critters hate me. That is clear. Their looks, their attitude, even the way they sometimes fall silent around me - it's all obvious. Hoppy especially. Just the way she looks when she even hears my name... that look of disgust and distance.

I will never be on an even keel with her.

The realization burns quietly, coldly. But it is not new.

You reach the next room. It's simple, almost cozy: wooden furniture is spread out in a mess, blue cushions lie on the floor as if they had been carelessly left there. But your gaze scans more.

A movement of your neck, a quick turn, and you see it: a cupboard, large and massive, concealing a secret door. It's locked, inaccessible, but that's no obstacle for you.

Your eyes wander back. From a distance, you see Olivia and the critters slowly following you. Olivia is still clinging to DogDay, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she laughs out loud.

You shake your head slightly, barely noticeably.

Why is she like this? Why can't she just... be different?

But deep down, you know that their normality is different. And that their otherness keeps the group alive.

You turn your gaze away and move on, your focus back on the hidden door and the possibilities it holds.

We are about to encounter an experiment.

This is the Poppy Room - the place where the little doll was once locked up in a glass cabinet.

You remember how Elliot used to talk about her with an enthusiasm that irritated you even then. "Poppy's something special," he'd said. "All the kids covet her. She's perfect."

But behind these words you have only seen the numbers. Poppy was one of the first successful experiments ever created. Nobody had done it before her. It was a milestone - and a bestseller at the same time. The production figures and revenue were astronomical, a testament to what was possible.

But you never liked Poppy.

She was arrogant, always acting as if she wanted to help the other experiments, especially the new ones. But you saw through what she really wanted: Information. She wasn't interested in the experiments themselves - only in the things they knew about the company.

She's manipulative, dishonest. But I know she'll be against the Prototype if there's an uprising.

That is her pattern. She's always looking for ways to protect herself, even when she's pretending to help others. And then there's Kissy Missy - one of the few who could remember Playcare. Poppy has always taken advantage of her, using her memories and loyalty for her own ends.

You're already calculating what that could mean. If the Prototype really has control of the factory, Poppy will turn on him. But how much can you count on that? How long can you calculate her loyalty before it breaks?

Your footsteps continue to echo through the room, the cupboard with the hidden door remains in your field of vision. In the background, you hear the light footsteps of the critters and Olivia's still exaggerated voice as she talks to DogDay.

Kissy Missy, Poppy will stop us or help us. But only as long as it suits them.

You stop for a moment, your gaze fixed on the old wooden door. Your hand rises slowly and glides over the worn wood. It feels cold, rough, almost like an echo of past decisions.

You take the last step. Bubba stands beside you, his tall, blue figure restless but silent. Together you open the door, and immediately your thought is proven.

I knew it.

The room behind it is small, quiet and full of dust, but at its center is a cabinet. Solid wood with a glass door that reveals the contents: Poppy.

The little doll sits motionless behind the glass, her eyes lifeless, and yet she seems to be staring at you. Her hair, perfectly coiffed, the blue skirt and the red shoes - everything is as immaculate as it ever was. She looks exactly as she did when she was at the peak of sales.

She is here. Of course she's here. She has stood up to the prototype's rebellion.

"Is that..." Bubba's voice breaks the silence, his words hesitant, almost reverent. "Another experiment?"

You turn your head slightly towards him before your gaze slides back to the doll. "Yes."

The word comes short, concise, like a mechanical answer. For you, Poppy is not a riddle. She is a relic, a reminder of the beginning of these experiments - and of the mistakes that were made.

"She's... small," Bubba mumbles, his brow furrowed as he looks at the doll.

"Watch out," you say without opening the glass door. Your voice is cool, emotionless. "She has her own agenda."

Bubba swallows audibly, his eyes shifting from you back to Poppy. "Why is she locked up?"

"Because otherwise she wouldn't be here." Your answer is as precise as the calculation running in your head. If Poppy is here, the Prototype has deemed her a threat. So she's not on his side. At least not yet.

The footsteps of the critters and Olivia come closer, their voices softer as they enter the room. DogDay is the first to stand next to Bubba, and Olivia pushes through right behind them, her eyes fixed curiously on the glass door.

"Oh wow, she's so cute!" says Olivia, leaning forward slightly as if she wants to take a closer look at the doll. "Can I touch it? With Big Y/N's permission, of course."

Cute. Of course she is. She needs to shut the fuck up before we get into trouble because of her.

You're quicker, of course. Without a movement on your face, you put down your bag, adjust your GrabPack and move in such a way that nobody can see what you're doing. Your movements are precise, mechanical.

You pull the small pistol out of your rucksack, your eyes still fixed on the cupboard. You stow the gun inconspicuously in your right coat pocket.

If she tries to play any games with us, I'll shoot her on sight.

You exhale calmly, your calculations continue to run incessantly. Risks, scenarios, how long it will take to draw the weapon - everything is weighed up.

But when you turn around, something happens that you hadn't anticipated.

Olivia.

She is standing there. Right in front of the wardrobe. Her eyes are sparkling, and there's that stupid grin on her face that always throws you for a loop. But it's not just that. Next to her - open, wide, and empty - is the cupboard.

Of course she did. Of course she opened it.

Before you can react, the light flickers. A brief, bright flash, followed by complete darkness.

A few of the critters make quiet, restless noises, but no one screams. The darkness is thick, almost tangible, and then you feel it: Olivia is clinging to your arm.

Apparently out of safety.

Your instinct screams at you to push her away, to put your hand in your coat pocket, to draw your gun, to do something to regain control. But then you hear it.

One voice.

"You opened my case."

The words are quiet, high-pitched, almost childlike - and yet they echo in the silence as if they were coming from everywhere.

You freeze, every muscle tensed, while the meaning of the words settles in your head.

This is Poppy. She is now free.

The light flickers once, twice - and comes on again. Your eyes immediately turn to the cupboard. Empty. Of course it's empty.

Slowly you move your head back, your mind working like a machine, but this time without clear answers. Olivia is standing in front of you. She's looking straight at you. You're the same height, so eye contact is unavoidable.

Her hands are still clutching at your chest, the nervous grin on her face showing no trace of fear, but... something else. Her cheeks are flushed, and for a moment you wonder if it was the darkness that upset her, or if she really is that... idiotic.

Red spots. Really? She's even more childish than I thought.

A quick glance out of the corner of your eye shows you the critters' reactions. Their faces tell different stories: Some look confused, others still slightly shocked by the sudden darkness.

But then there's Bobby.

She stands there, both hands in front of her face, her eyes wide open, and a huge grin taking up almost her entire face. She looks at you - you and Olivia - as if she were a teenage girl watching the most exciting scene of a romance.

What the hell is she thinking?

Your eyes return to Olivia, whose grip is slow to loosen, her hands sliding away from your chest, but the smirk remains. She doesn't say anything, and that annoys you almost more than anything else.

Behind you, DogDay can be heard growling softly, probably still nervous about the darkness, and Hoppy steps closer to the cupboard, her eyes searching.

Poppy is free. That's the problem now.

You exhale, deeply and quietly, and refocus on the situation. No time for unnecessary emotions or silly dynamics.

"Y/N?" Bubba's voice is quiet, but you can hear the uncertainty in it. His eyes wander restlessly back and forth between you and Olivia before they finally fix on the empty cupboard. "What do we do now?"

You turn your head just slightly, your eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

"Isn't it obvious, you idiot," you say coldly, without a trace of patience in your voice.

A few of the critters make startled noises, a collective gasp that only heightens the tension in the room. Even Olivia, who just a moment ago had a nervous grin on her face, suddenly looks shocked. Her expression changes - the red blotches on her cheeks fade and she looks at you as if she expected you to say something else.

You ignore them all.

"We're following the plan."

With that, you turn away and leave the room without paying attention to the others. You don't hear their footsteps, only the glances you feel as they look after you.

Every second you move further away from them, every step takes you deeper underground.

You open the door that was hidden behind the cupboard and enter the next Hallways.

The air is colder down here, denser, and the light is weaker, flickering occasionally. The hallways stretch into the darkness, uneven metal and old cables run along the walls as if they were holding the corridors together.

Alone, only your own footsteps echo through the silence. Your thoughts remain calm, focused. Poppy is free. It's a risk, but a calculable one.

You know the others will follow at some point. Probably Olivia first, with her annoying enthusiasm, and then DogDay, always trying to keep the group together. But now? You don't need any distractions now.

There you are.

A place where your last memory really doesn't make you feel good: Elliot Ludwig's office.

The room in front of you is silent, as if frozen in time. The heavy wooden furniture, the imposing shelves full of files, and the huge desk with the chair behind it - everything is so familiar and yet so empty.

You are still standing here alone. You know that the others are right behind you, their footsteps barely audible on the metallic hallways. They will be with you in less than ten seconds, but you don't care.

"It's about the family."

The words echo in your head as clearly as if you had just said them. You remember perfectly how you once sat here, opposite him, at this desk. You had wanted to explain the situation with the death of your mother.

Elliot was one of the few people who ever listened to you without fear of your success or failure. But when you dared to say that you wanted to take time off to grieve, he had answered you without hesitation:

"Quite simply, Y/N, there's something more important than a death in your family at the moment. "

You should have hit him. Right in the face. So hard that his nose would break and his head would bob backwards. You should have dropped him until his blood ran down his throat and reminded him of what he had said. A moment he would never forget.

But you hadn't done it. Instead, you had remained silent, staring at him while your mind analyzed and weighed up the situation as usual.

Your hand reaches for your pocket, back in the present. You, the Scientific Director, had a key for every room in this building. Even for the head honcho's office.

If not you, who else?

As you think back, you reach for your bag. As Head of Science, you had a key for every room in this building - including the head honcho's office, of course.

If not you, who else?

Your fingers glide over the bunch of keys, the metal jingles softly. You find the right key, slide it into the lock and turn it with a gentle click.

Even before you open the door, you hear footsteps behind you. Olivia and the Smiling Critters have arrived. Their movements are cautious, their voices muffled - but that doesn't stop Olivia for long.

"Hey, Y/N," she says, her voice carrying a mixture of nervousness and defiance. "Why did you call Bubba an idiot earlier?"

You pause, your hand on the door. Your gaze does not wander to her, but remains focused on the office. The question hangs in the air until she continues.

"I mean, he was just trying to help. And anyway - the Smiling Critters are trying their best, you know? They're not perfect, but who is? You can't treat them like that all the time."

Behind you, you hear the critters whispering softly, their voices restless. Olivia takes a step forward, her words becoming more urgent.

"Honestly, sometimes I don't think you get it. They're not machines. They're people - or at least they used to be. And you don't always have to be such a cold unsentimental- "

That was too much.

You turn around, and for the first time the group sees something they've never seen before: you, angry. Not really overflowing with anger, but the facial expressions were different.

"The Smiling Critters," you say, your voice cutting and unexpectedly loud, "are children's corpses ported over in fabric covers. Don't you get it, you fucking idiot?"

The words echo through the hallway and everything is silent for a moment. Olivia stares at you, her face frozen, her eyes widening. Behind her, the Critters move closer together, DogDay lowers his gaze, and Kickin almost hides behind Hoppy. Hoppy looks angry, very angry at you.

You take a deep breath, the anger still burning inside you, but you don't let it out any further. Olivia opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

She notices that something is different. Maybe not just in what you've said, but in yourself - a crack in the cold, analytical façade you always present.

You turn back to the door without another word and push it open.

The office of Elliot Ludwig.

You enter, the others stay behind you, unsure whether they should follow you. The door slowly closes behind you, leaving you alone.

You look around. The room is unchanged. The heavy desk, the bookshelves, the strange silence that always reminds you of that conversation.

"Quite simply, Y/N, there's something more important than a death in your family at the moment."

You kept quiet back then. Today, you might have acted differently.

Outside, you hear Olivia and the Critters whispering softly. They embody something you weren't allowed to have back then - family, connection, something human. But you know you can't stop doing what's necessary.

You force your mind to stop thinking about such nonsense and turn your attention back to what's important.

Ludwig's office looks the same as always. The heavy, brown wooden desk dominates the room, surrounded by the same old bookcases and decorations that you have always despised. However, one detail immediately catches your eye: there is a tape on the table, neatly placed in the middle, almost as if it had been left for you.

Your eyes linger on it for a moment, but your gaze quickly moves on. Directly above you, on the wall, hangs the opening of a vent. The angle points downwards, just enough for you to reach it with your GrabPack.

You don't wait a moment. Your movements are precise and efficient. Your arm shoots forward and the GrabPack's gripper grabs the grille. With a quick jerk, you pull it down.

The sound is muffled, but in the silence it echoes loud enough for you to hear faint footsteps behind you - the rest of the group.

You turn around.

There they are. Olivia, as always, has that goofy look on her face, her grin inappropriate and incomprehensible. The others show a mixture of reactions:

DogDay seems neutral, but his eyes are watchful, always intent on keeping an eye on the group. Hoppy's eyes narrow slightly, a trace of suspicion on her face, as always when she looks at you. Kickin is nervous, almost frantic, his feet fidgeting restlessly on the ground.

Crafty looks exhausted, her shoulders slumped, but she's trying not to attract attention. Bobby holds back a little, her hands nervously in front of her face, but her eyes follow your every move. Picky seems distracted, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the room as if she doesn't quite understand the tension.

CatNap is rather unconcerned, but his ears twitch slightly, a sign of his watchful attention.

And all because I called Bubba an idiot.

Olivia. You're sure she's the reason the group didn't panic. She probably calmed them down with her silly, pointless ways. And of course it worked - they're just as stupid as she is.

"Hurry up," you say coldly, your voice emotionless.

You turn around again without waiting for their reactions and enter the vent.

The path through the narrow shafts is not particularly long. Your mind calculates the distance almost automatically: just under 20 meters. You know exactly that it will lead you straight to the Maintenance Closet.

As you exit the vent, you jump lightly to the floor and straighten up. Your eyes immediately scan the room without losing a moment.

The Maintenance Closet is exactly what you expected: an abandoned room surrounded by bare concrete walls. The room exudes neglect - the dust in the air, the corners full of cobwebs, and the sparse lighting that casts everything in a dull, yellowish light.

The floor is covered with scattered objects. Cardboard boxes are piled up against the walls, some still intact, others dented or half-opened. Sheets and papers are scattered carelessly, some crumpled up, others half hidden under furniture.

A heavy shelf stands against the opposite wall, overloaded with tools, spare parts and boxes that seem to have been untouched for so long that they have almost melted into the shelf. A desk in the corner is littered with old tools and a yellowed file.

You look around, your thoughts sort through your surroundings, analyzing everything that could be useful.

You continue to look around the room, your thoughts organized as always, analyzing every detail of your surroundings, calculating every possibility.

Poppy.

She must have gotten through here. The light failure was no coincidence, and her movements - even with her limited speed - fit the scenario perfectly. From her room, she would either have had to go through the ventilation or the corridors. The ventilation is more likely, she is smaller and more agile, and the ventilation offers protection from direct pursuit.

Your mind draws the blueprints of the factory in front of your inner eye. You see the routes, the possible paths.

If she came through the ventilation, then she would have had to go through this room. The Empty Closet is a strategic connection. And at a speed of no more than 3 mph...

Your mind calculates the distance it could have traveled during this time.

Thirty meters.

Poppy is at most thirty meters away from you. Probably moving, but not fast. She knows what she's doing. Her destination is clear: the Game Station. There is no other logical point that is so close and at the same time offers so many options for hiding or maneuvering.

Your eyes linger on the box in the corner that caught your eye earlier. It stands there too neatly, too deliberately placed in this chaotic room. But before you step closer, you hear the group reach the vent.

Their voices echo softly in the room, Olivia, as always, the loudest.

"This place is full of stuff! Do you think there's anything important here?"

You exhale, short and controlled, while your gaze wanders around the room.

"I don't know, but it's definitely really creepy here," DogDay mumbles.

"It's bad air down here," Hoppy adds, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Why is it so cold all of a sudden?" Kickin asks nervously, his wings twitching slightly.

You stand still, the movement of your eyes precise and calm, while you register every little thing in the room. But then something moves next to you.

Olivia.

Of course it's her. She stands right next to you, that stupid, wide grin on her face, like she doesn't have a clue what kind of danger you're in. She stares at you, her eyes almost sparkling with some strange energy.

How could someone like that have worked here?

"Oh! Uh, sorry!" she suddenly shouts as something rattles above you.

Your head snaps up, as does hers. A box falls from the ventilation system, crashes to the floor and stirs up dust. Behind it - hidden in the dark opening - you see her.

Poppy.

The little doll stands up there, her big glass eyes fixed on the group. Her voice rings out, high and childlike, but with a strange calm that doesn't match her size.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying..."

Her gaze glides through the group. First to the Smiling Critters, whose reactions are mixed - DogDay looks familiar, Hoppy watches them attentively, while Kickin nervously takes a step back. Crafty and Bobby stand rigid, almost frozen.

Then her gaze lingers on Olivia, who stares at her with wide eyes and her typical goofy expression. But finally her eyes land on you.

She freezes.

A look of confusion flits across her small face. For a moment, she doesn't seem to know what to say.

And of course, at this very moment, it is Olivia who speaks.

"Ohhh! How cute you are!" She exclaims, her voice exaggeratedly delighted. "How could you have been locked up?"

Poppy says nothing, her big glass eyes keep switching back and forth between you and Olivia. The tension in the room increases noticeably as everyone waits to see what she will say next.

"Ahem. Um, I wanted to thank all of you for freeing me," Poppy finally says, her voice high and unsteady, almost as if she's choosing her words carefully. "I was stuck in there for so long! Thank you. I'd like to pay you back!"

As she speaks, you notice how she deliberately looks at everyone else - except you.

But you know exactly what she wants. Your calculations have long since been completed. Without hesitation, you take a step forward.

Your GrabPack flicks out, a well-aimed shot over her head, before you run straight to the switch. Your other hand shoots the power lever, and with a loud clack, the power is activated.

Poppy moves immediately. She goes to the vent next to her, climbs in and disappears into it. Her voice sounds through the wall, clear and calm.

"There is a train station nearby. It needs a code, and I have it. We're gonna get out of here."

The words echo in the empty room. A moment later she appears again, this time in an opening next to the large vent that leads back into Elliot Ludwig's office.

"As soon as you guys... get on up here! Hmph!"

"Do we really have to go back now?" asks Kickin, his voice full of displeasure.

"Don't be like that," Hoppy replies, her eyes rolling slightly. "We can easily get up to the vent with a robber's ladder."

Without waiting for an answer, the two get down to business. Kickin bends slightly, her hands firmly on the ground, while Hoppy stands on her shoulders. With some effort, she climbs into the vent and begins to pull the other critters up one by one.

Meanwhile, you are still standing downstairs, your gaze fixed on Poppy. Her eyes stare at you unblinkingly, and this time it's not uncertainty but nervousness that's on her face.

Next to you, Olivia breaks the silence. " 'You two know each other?" she asks, her tone curious, almost playful.

You don't answer. Instead, you lift your GrabPack, aim at the holder above the vent and pull yourself upwards in one swift movement.

But the moment you move upwards, Olivia suddenly clings to your arm. Her fingers grip tightly, and without warning she pulls herself up on you as you both enter the vent together.

"Thanks for the cab, boss!" says Olivia with a grin, her voice echoing loud and clear in the confines of the vent.

I should have killed her.

The thought comes and goes, quickly and emotionlessly, as you continue to progress. The vent leads you back to Elliot's office, then on through the upper levels of the factory. The path is no less dangerous than before, and the obstacles pile up.

A hallway whose floor has collapsed brings you to the next problem. The abyss below is deep and dark, and you know without hesitation that a fall here will be fatal.

Olivia, of course, immediately has an idea.

"You could always take someone with you in your GrabPack!" she says with the same carefree energy that always irritates you.

You just think about how incredibly stupid she is. Who returns to that factory without taking their own employee GrabPack with them?

"It's at home," she had said, completely unimpressed.

"That's a good place to be," you replied, your voice as cold as ever.

Of course you won't accept a suggestion from her. You're not mentally retarded. Instead, you choose the longer but safer route for you, Bubba, Crafty and Bobby. They all have a fear of heights, and you see the risk that the pace wouldn't fit due to suboptimal weights.

Olivia, now with your GrabPack, and DogDay persuade CatNap to cling to Olivia as they take the dangerous path. The situation is ridiculous, but they make it.

When you finally arrive, you have a clear view of Poppy.

A room full of locked gates.

Poppy is standing by a large hole in the floor, her posture calm, and she is quietly humming a tune that echoes through the room. But as you approach, she falls silent and slowly turns to face you.

"Listen. I'm going to need you to trust me-"

Her words are abruptly interrupted.

A pink arm shoots out of the hole and grabs Poppy with terrifying speed. Her screams echo through the room as she is dragged into the darkness.

That was Mommy Long Legs, for sure.

None of you stand still. No one but you.

Almost as if on command, the others jump in after them, without time for doubt or discussion.

Are they really that stupid?

Your mind races as you stare fixedly at the hole. You know the danger that lurks down there. Experiment 1222 - a creature of destruction, manipulative and deadly. In one confrontation, it will tear them all apart.

For a moment, you feel something. No frustration, no anger - it's different, strange.

You know what will happen when they meet her down there. They will die. All of them.

An image forms in your mind, unintentional and yet present. The Smiling Critters - creatures that only exist because you made them what they are. They are in this position because you brought them here.

Olivia.

She's here because you kept quiet back then. You didn't tell anyone that the prototype was planning an uprising. Not a single employee. You had thought it irrelevant - unnecessary to waste time.

Even Poppy.

A doll, an experiment. Just like everyone else, trapped in this system that you have helped to build for so long.

Your hand clenches into a fist for a moment, then you let it go again. You jump after it without any further hesitation.

The fall quickly turns into a long, sliding descent. The walls around you fly by, an irregular tunnel of cold metal. The breeze rushes past you, cutting and cold, and for a moment the world seems to stand still.

No sound except the echo of your breaths and the speed of the fall.

Now you are standing here.

"Did you have to take a quick piss up there?" Olivia asks, and you just ignore it.

Directly in front of the locked metal gate of the Game Station.

The surroundings are silent, apart from the quiet hum of the machines coming from somewhere. The massive gate looms in front of you, a monument to isolation that blocks access to the next phase of the factory.

You look around, quickly analyzing the situation and the group. Olivia still has that unnerving grin, as if she thinks this is all an adventure, while DogDay positions himself at her side, alert and focused.

Hoppy and Kickin stand together, both looking tense but ready. Bubba, Crafty, Bobby and CatNap move closer, their eyes wandering between you and the gate, obviously waiting for you to make a move.

"Wait here," you say curtly, without looking at her.

Your steps take you to the left, towards the Power Room. As you move, your eyes briefly meet Olivia's, who is standing there with her typical goofy expression.

"Come with me," you say, your voice as neutral as ever.

Olivia reacts immediately, a wide grin spreading across her face as she leans forward slightly and places a finger on her lower lip. "Uhhh, is something not teen friendly coming up? Or why are we moving away from the critters?"

Her voice carries this exaggeratedly teasing tone, and her eyes sparkle with feigned mischief.

How can an adult human being be so mentally retarded?

You say nothing, just turn away and keep walking as she follows you with quick steps. Her presence behind you is almost palpable, so much so that you have to force yourself to ignore her and focus on the power room.

You enter the Power Room, a small, compact space that seems to hang in the air. The walls are made of raw cement, cracked and cold. Cables hang loosely from the ceiling, some of them wobble slightly when you close the door behind you.

To complete this puzzle.

Your mind works immediately.

You must connect one of their GrabPack hands to the power source on the Left side, so the wall will not break off the wire. Then, they must go to the right side without having the wire hit the left power beam.

Once at the right power beam, they wrap the wire around the beam, then walk to the right beam and do the same. Finally, they go back to the right and shoot their other hand to the inactive power source.

A simple process. Clearly structured. Precise.

"So, boss, what do I have to do?" Olivia's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You sigh softly and point to the left side of the room. "Connect the GrabPack to the energy source on the left. Then go over to the right side without the wire touching the left beam."

She nods eagerly. "Okay, sounds simple enough."

"Then wrap the wire around the right-hand beam. Move on to the next station, do the same, and finally connect the other hand to the inactive energy source."

"All right, boss! This will be a piece of cake." She raises her GrabPack and aims at the energy source.

Your eyes follow her every move. It takes exactly five seconds for her to pull the wire the wrong way, and you hear a loud BZZT as the energy connection is broken.

"Oops."

Of course.

"Wrong," you say curtly. "Once again. Listen and do exactly what I say."

She tries again, slowly this time, and actually manages to attach the wire to the left power source without anything going wrong.

"Now go to the right side without the wire touching the left beam."

"Dude, I can't fly, you know?" She grins at you, lifting one leg in the air as if she's dancing. "Or do you want me to float elegantly, like an angel?"

You ignore her. "Go. Slowly."

She takes a few uncertain steps to the right, lifts the wire almost too high and almost lets it touch the beam. You take a deep breath, but say nothing.

"Wow, Dude, you're staring so intensely. Am I impressive?"

"No."

"Ouch." She laughs and wraps the wire around the right beam.

The rest of the process is no better. She manages to undo the wire three times, bumps into the walls and at one point even mutters, "Maybe I'd be better if you cheered me on. Like, 'Go, Olivia, you're the best!"

"I don't waste time with things like that."

She rolls her eyes, but continues to grin. "You really are the perfect motivational coach, genius."

Five minutes pass, during which your patience reaches the limits of its endurance. But in the end, it finally succeeds. The energy connection is activated and the puzzle is complete.

"I did it!" she exclaims triumphantly. "Well, well, Y/N, I'm a natural after all."

You just look at her, your face remains expressionless as always. Five minutes. For a puzzle that should have taken ten seconds.

Without another word, you make your way back to the others. Olivia walks beside you, and meanwhile she mutters once: "You must have been staring at me while I was bent over the beam."

You give her a quick glance. She's wearing a grin that reminds you of a cat, smug and playful. Without reacting, you delete the comment from your mind.

You walk on, down a long corridor that leads to another locked gate. But something is different.

The ceiling.

It is unusually high and so dark that you cannot see through it. Your eyes linger on it for a moment while your mind calculates the possibilities.

Mommy Long Legs.

The thought is unavoidable. Here, in this height and darkness, she could attack you without you seeing her first. Her ability to stretch out and disappear into the darkness makes this corridor her perfect hunting ground.

Olivia doesn't notice anything. She shoots the scanner on the door in front of you with the red hand of her GrabPack to unlock it.

But before the hand touches the scanner, it happens.

A pink arm shoots out of the darkness above you, grabs your hand and pulls it upwards.

Mommy Long Legs: "gasp New playmates! And even the Smiling Critters!"

Her arm pulls up and the cable between the GrabPack and her hand snaps with a loud bang. Mommy Long Legs - the culprit - glides down from the darkness. Her long limbs seem unnatural and grotesque, and she moves with an elegance that seems uncanny.

"It's been so long..."

Her right hand lowers, and in her grip she holds Poppy hostage. Webbing covers Poppy's mouth, preventing her from speaking, but her eyes are wide open, fixing on you - pleadingly.

"Isn't this exciting, Poppy? Very exciting, Mommy! Mommy heard that Ms. Poppy was going to just give you the train code to escape. Now how is that fun? Instead, why don't we make a game out of it? The Game Station is still working. It will be just like old times."

Her voice changes again, she imitates Poppy in a childlike way:

"And if you win all three games, I'll give you the train code! Mommy loves that idea, Poppy! Ooo, you're going to have so much fun. Head to Musical Memory and Mommy will get things started. Obey the rules, or I'll tear you apart, and eat your insides while you're still alive."

An eerie laugh erupts from her as she moves back into the darkness. But before she disappears completely, she stops for a moment.

Her eyes glide over the group and linger on you.

Her gaze changes.

Her confident, mocking expression becomes something else - terror.

"What... What are you doing here?"

You don't answer. Your empty, cold eyes remain fixed on her.

"You... How did you survive? Impossible... You should be dead-!"

Your voice cuts through the silence, calm and razor-sharp: "Just like your son."

Dead silence.

Mommy Long Legs' eyes widen and she freezes.

"What... WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

Her angry roar fills the room as she slides lower, her arms spread out menacingly. The others instinctively move behind you, even Poppy moves her eyes to you, her nervousness unmistakable.

But you don't move. No fear, no nervousness, just the same stoic manner that always accompanies you.

"I said, 'Just like your son'. Now go, before your game ends like your failed pregnancy."

The words are like poison.

Olivia pulls on your arm, trying to get you to shut up, while Poppy looks at you with a look that almost begs you to stop.

Mommy Long Legs trembles, her rage palpable, but she slowly retreats. With a final scream, she disappears into the darkness again.

With a loud click, the massive gate to the Game Station opens. You stride forward without hesitation, the others follow you, more hesitantly, but full of admiration - or fear.

"Damn!" Kickin breaks the silence with a triumphant grin. "He totally showed her!"

"But... what did he mean by 'failed pregnancy'?" asks CatNap, visibly irritated as she eyes you suspiciously.

"Who cares!" Kickin waves it off. "He dissed her and she knew she didn't stand a chance."

You turn around. Some of the group, like Bubba and Crafty, seem almost amused, maybe even a little relieved. But Olivia looks at you like you've just been a shining knight who rescued her cat from a tree - that admiring mixture of naivety and disbelief that almost makes you nervous.

This will take you to the Game Station.

The Game Station is a huge underground facility, completely filled with artificial light, as no natural light could ever penetrate here. Someone had once suggested in an official proposal that fake windows be installed here to give the children an illusion of daylight - an attempt to protect their mental health. But as it is now, the station feels oppressively artificial, despite the bright colors that adorn the walls and play equipment.

The walls are painted in a colorful mix of red, yellow and blue. There are play structures everywhere: slides, circular climbing frames and spinning play wheels that look like remnants from a happier time long gone. In the center, a massive train sits enthroned beneath a bright logo that proclaims "Game Station" in playful letters.

An eerie contrast: while the play structures are supposed to look like a paradise for children, the place has an aura of abandonment - as if the lights went out here a long time ago and no one had the courage to return.

After you have passed through the station, you will finally reach the train. A glowing console will prompt you to enter a code to activate it.

"Uhhhhh..." Olivia deliberately drags out the word and looks at you questioningly. "What's the code so we can leave?"

You reply in your usual matter-of-fact tone: "We have to play Musical Memory, Wack-a-Wuggy and Statues first to get the full code."

Olivia grimaces. "Can't we just... guess?" She grins mischievously. "And we can always rescue Poppy later." The grin widens, almost like that of a cat that has just discovered a new toy.

"That's not possible," you say matter-of-factly. "The third code contains a randomly generated element - a sequence of four digits. If you consider that we have to type them in and every wrong entry costs us five seconds of delay, it would be inefficient. It makes more sense to play the games."

"But I don't want to play by the rules!" Olivia starts to pout like a child. For a moment, it looks like she's actually going to throw herself on the floor like a toddler in the supermarket.

You sigh audibly before shaking your head. "By 'actually' do you mean...?" Olivia raises an eyebrow and looks at you challengingly. "You have a shortcut that gets us straight through?"

"The solution is right in front of you," you reply dryly.

For a moment, Olivia actually seems to think you're pointing at something in the room and turns around, searching. Bubba slaps his forehead in resignation, while Bobby snorts in embarrassment.

"Ahhhhh..." Olivia's expression brightens as the penny drops. "You're the solution!"

"The others stay here," you say firmly. "You and I will get the codes."

"But...!" Bubba starts, but you interrupt him. "If you come along, it'll only be more dangerous. Besides, you're blocking the games."

With a quick step, you turn away and walk off. Olivia follows you with a broad grin as she flutters after you.

"What a gorgeous genius you are! "

---

Let's go! Y/N even messes with Mommy Long Legs, and there's nothing she can do about it. But what do you think he meant by "failed pregnancy"? I'm happy to finally publish another chapter for this story. Now the game is really starting, and character development for Y/N is also getting underway - in case that wasn't already clear. For the Poppy Playtime stories, however, I'm taking a short break (which means I'm working less on them and concentrating more on my Arcane story). There'll be a new chapter for Poppy Playtime at the end of January, and I'll pick up right where I left off - including some of my other stories. Thanks to everyone for reading, and happy new year! 🎉

2 notes · View notes

whumpitisthen · 1 year ago

Text

A Lesson in Selfishness

Previous I Masterlist I Next

Rest of cws in tags as usual, but this one deals heavily with dissociation, depersonalisation/derealisation (depending on how you interpret it) and self-hatred, so i thought id put at least that much up here too <3 Mori is not having a good time

By the time Auden finds the door left ajar from his failed escape, he is openly sobbing into his hands in distress. Awful, ear-splitting screams echo down the hall, bouncing off of every ornament, every pillar, disrupting even the humble flickering of flames lighting his way along the walls. Each decibel added grows the mountain of guilt splitting his soul in twain.

He couldn't do anything to help. He was even worse than a failure. He was useless. Powerless to do anything but watch on as they were tortured. Even if they were a creature of Hell, it has become entirely clear that the deer demon was only doing what it was told, and never planned on hurting him at all. They are in a similar situation to him, and all Auden managed to do was bring their tormentor right to them, and cause unnecessary trouble. Cause ruthless, avoidable punishment. His realisation came far too late, and it cost them so much.

Lord, they begged him not to yell.

He hurries past the ornate wooden doors, swiftly pulling them closed behind him with trembling fingers. His body has become awfully pale, blue veins visible through the thin skin of his wrists. It must be yet another side effect or symptom of being mortal, yet another need he does not know how to identify nor meet. It's cold, the dirty nails at the tip of his fingers are turning blue. It only became chillier since the Reaper arrived, sucking the warmth out of everything living with his presence. Auden swears he can still feel Death's touch clear as day — his hold on him is so great that he can feel those black tendrils of rot solidify and take root inside his throat. Those icy fingers left blue marks on his face, little red dots where his claws dug into him, colder still where his silver jewellery touched him.

Perturbation takes him when he thinks of his saviour, his voice murmuring inside Auden’s head. The mocking, the cooing, the promise of pain. That terrifying laughter corrupts his every thought.

Why would he have thought the Grim Reaper to be merciful? Death wasn't fair, Death wasn't kind or protective or caring; Death was ruthless, and efficient, and anywhere from a sudden stopping of the heart to the most painful, agonising, twistedly slow carnage. And even then, even if he was all of those things — why would he act anything like this towards a filthy Fallen? He took Auden to be a gift for someone else, nothing more. He only protects him as long as he is in the deity's care, and who knows what will happen to him once he is given away. He is property, now, and the Reaper will not hesitate to remind him of that. He was lucky enough to be allowed to leave unscathed.

Exhaustion strikes his body at once, leaving him gasping on his knees leaned up against the sturdy door. His soul breaks apart for what could only be the hundredth time since he found himself curled up on that wretched burnt pasture. At every turn, he cannot help fooling himself with even the illusion of choice, the possibility of mercy or the hope of finding anyone who could keep him safe, if not happy. He only experiences burning shame at having been betrayed by Death himself — though it was barely betrayal at all. He should have known all along he was not really saved. He should have known that he does not deserve to even be gazed upon by beings like him.

He found Death's presence to be a necessary evil. Who else could keep someone so helpless like him safe in Hell? His Lord has all but abandoned him, as painful as it is to admit. So, among all these dangerous monsters, who only bring suffering, how fitting is it that the only one who could keep him alive is Death? However menacing, cruel, scary, demanding and even unholy — no one would hurt Auden again as long as he decides to stick around and defend him.

So how stupid must Auden be to police the actions of not only a deity, but the only person on this forsaken planet who can protect him?

‘Downright sacrilegious, isn't it? How devoted you are to your new Lord. To call him a deity, when it is proposed your only God is the one ruling the Heavens. You have truly become a mortal, riddled with sin.’

“Shut up!” — Auden explodes finally at the endless mocking voice plaguing his every waking moment relentlessly. — “Shut up, shut up, shut up! Stop talking to me!”

‘Best you quiet down, mortal. You saw how quick your new God was summoned to your side to punish an innocent creature for you.’

He must be going insane, he is sure. He has begun talking to a voice in his own head. Yelling out in frustration and arguing with it, like some form of cursed soul wandering the scorched Earth endlessly, groaning and moaning to itself constantly. He thought it was his own voice for a while, so used to shame and self-deprecation that he didn't even think it anything else, but now he is certain it's not him. Or is he? He does not know which option seems crazier; that he is arguing with his own thoughts or that he now has another voice inside his already miserable head.

“I don't care, just shut up! Please!” — he sobs, pulling his knees up to his face to hide behind them. He can feel his headache growing the longer he concentrates on the voice. — “I'm not a sinner, I'm not betraying my Lord, I'm not being sacrilegious, I’m, I'm, I-I'm just trying to survive! Pl-Please forgive me, I'm so sorry, I'm s-so sorry, my Lord…”

He devolves into heaving sobs, no longer having enough water to spare for many tears in his body. He continues mumbling to himself, but the voice does not respond. It left him after a job well done, sending him down a spiral and finally acknowledging it. He sits on the floor like this for a while, trying his best to rid himself of all these anxieties, miseries and emotions. Angels really aren't meant to be here for long, and Auden, though not nearly aware of it enough, is quite strong to bear it like this. It's a shame no one will care to remind him.

Three knocks on the door behind him send all his muscles back to attention, tensing them like rubber bands until they burn from exertion like they are about to snap. He had quieted down, nearly falling asleep sitting on the floor as he is, but now he is clambering to stand and move out of the way. It must be the Reaper again, here to remind him how dependent on him he is and how easily this fickle shield he managed to gain can be shattered at the slightest misbehaviour. Or maybe it's his new owner, whoever it is, here to take him and do something like Miss Thu'lin wanted to — maybe it's Miss Thu'lin herself, come to take him back and execute him properly.

He waits, but the handle isn't pushed down, the door doesn't open. A minute passes before four more knocks are heard, a little quieter, more timid. This doesn't seem like anyone he has met so far. The Reaper would just barge in, or even just appear in the room if he wanted. Miss Thu'lin isn't coming back. Could it really be his owner?

He clears his throat, rasping out a similarly timid ‘Hello?’, hoping whoever is on the other side will leave him be, but being too scared of repercussions in case he manages to disrespect someone again to not react anything at all.

To his relief, a familiar, almost forgotten voice answers. — “Hey, uh, hello. I'm here t-, I was sent t-to, uh… I have food. For you.”

Mori. It's just Mori! The deer person, the one who seemed like him!

The one who he left to suffer on their own. Who must have got every bone in their hand broken. The one who screamed themself hoarse from the sounds of it. Who they got in terrible, cruel, agonising trouble. And after it all, they are the one bringing him food.

Through immense, heart wrenching guilt, he dares to feel relief that it's only them. He wishes he could take back all the misfortune he managed to cause to this one, even if they are a Hell being. If only he understood the situation sooner, or even if he just let Death do as he wanted instead of trying to plead for their safety, — seeing as their screams only worsened when Auden was finally made to leave, more frequent, more desperate — he could have so easily helped them. Heavy shame eats at him for letting any of this happen. He feels like a fraud as a Guardian for being the main cause of this.

Though a dizzying cavalcade of negative emotions have latched onto him like a tumour, Auden forbids himself to ever hesitate helping Mori, and banishes the thought of ever, ever resisting what they say is best. The sight of their broken hand under relentless force, their pained face, the kneeling and the whimpering and the begging and the torture must never leave his brain for the rest of his life; a reminder of the consequences of his selfishness.

“O-Oh, oh, I see, I'm sorry.” — The door still does not open, and he struggles to find the right words to say, — “Uhm… Sorry, uh… You can come in. I'm, I'm the only one here.”

Of course he's the only one, who else would be here? Nevertheless, the door finally opens, letting in the abused form of the deer demon awkwardly holding a silver tray of food items, water, cutlery and even a small vase with a single flower in it, and a black candle. They balance it with one unharmed hand, the wrist of the other arm where their hand has been ruined beyond use and their own torso, unsteady on their hooves. What catches Auden's eye before any of that is Mori's antlers — antler.

One of their antlers was snapped off of their head, leaving an open, oozing stump that covers half their face in dark red blood. Their face is harrowed, pale as a sheet, only contrasted by their own ghastly wounds. A sheen of sweat covers them, making them look sickly and frail. Their breathing is just as unsteady as their stance.

Did Death do this? Did Mori lose their antler because of Auden’s idiocy? Auden caused all this?

All previous worries and troubles of his own have been forgotten when Auden laid his eyes on them. Overshadowing his self-pity is a divine need to protect, to fix, to cheer up and hold them forever, to never let them be hurt again. To Guard, like he was always meant to. As Auden stares on in stunned silence, Mori only becomes more nervous. They avert their eyes and eventually ask, — “would, would you, uh… like to eat in bed or shall I set it on, on the table?”

Dear Lord in Heaven have mercy — their voice sounds even worse without the doors to muffle it. Every syllable quivers, some words barely audible as their tone disappears and turns to whispers. All energy, liveliness and personality has been removed, a pile of shattered glass existing where their certainty was before. All that remains of them is a terrified husk, trembling before him like he could just as well tear off their other antler if he wanted.

Auden says the only thing he knows to say, — “I'm so, so, so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I didn't mean for any of this, I just, I just —”

“Please, may, m-may I put this on the table or would you like to eat in bed?” — Mori cuts him off with a huff of air, talking a bit faster. Their limbs are shaking. They avert their eyes towards the floor, swallowing. The glass vase is clinking against a glass of water intermittently. The light of the candle flickers dangerously close to the rose.

For a second, Auden assumes they are mad at him, so mad they don't even want to hear his excuses. He opens his lips to beg a little more for their forgiveness, but then his eyes linger on the awkward position they are in, and all the wounds, and the dark red circles under their eyes — he almost trips over his own feet trying to take the heavy tray filled with all of his food from them. — “Give, give me that. Sorry. Oh, I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry, I-I swear I'm not usually this dense.”

They gasp out a shaky sigh, relieved to have been freed from their stress position. — “Th-Thank you, sir. I am so grateful.”

Auden doesn't think he has ever been referred to like that before. His sense of smell does not let him chew on that for long, overtaken in such an unbelievable way by the sweet, delicious aroma wafting up to his nose he can barely keep his eyes on Mori. He does not recognise anything on the tray apart from the water. He can only assume that the vase and candle are not meant to be eaten, but he does not know that for sure. It is equally enticing and scary to be so clueless about something so important, because who's to say any of it is edible? What if it's demon food, not human food? Does it matter at all? What if it's poisoned?

His mouth waters excessively the longer he stares at it all, and that worries him as much as his churning guts. A wince snaps him back to attention finally, and Auden forces himself to tear his eyes away from the food to catch the deer flinch from something.

“Uh, I'll, I'll just put this down for now. Thank you.” — The angel hurries over to the table, setting the tray down carefully with the same quivering in his flesh that Mori has. He wants nothing more than to bite down on everything on that tray, to consume it all as fast as possible; a feeling so alien he feels sick and disgusted at himself for needing something in such a wild, animalistic way. He likens his hunger to hellish temptation, but he has never felt temptation as forceful and overwhelming as this. His eyes land on Mori once more, surveying them over and over. How could he ever expect them to forgive him? He has nothing to give, he is nothing at all. All that pain, just because of him. — “I, I-I’m truly sorry. I wish I could change what I did, I really, really do. I was just, I woke up and there was this big room with no one else around and I thought, I, I don't know what I thought but I didn't know that you weren't a threat, I always expect, I always expect to be, to be… hurt, here. And I, I should've listened to you, and obeyed and protected you and, and —”

“Pl-Please, it's… it's fine. It wasn't really your fault, sir. Please do not worry about it,” — they whisper in that broken voice, and there is that title again. This is not Mori, this is not how they were talking to him just an hour or so ago. This feels impersonal, lifeless, a tone reserved for authorities and power; not a lowly little Fallen like him. They are speaking to him like he deserves any respect at all.

They're talking to him like they were talking to their master.

“B-But, but I, I yelled for the Reaper, I called for his attention, I got you hurt —”

“Master Grim does not need a reason to hurt me.” — Mori states, following a line between two floorboards with their eyes with a melancholic expression. Their still working fingers dig into the grey fabric of their rugged potato sack of a tunic. They sound like how Auden sounds as he prays — almost in a trance, with a light tone and monotonous syllables, like they are recounting the same line they have repeated over and over again countless times before, — “I am his. I belong to him, and he is free to do as he pleases with my body and with my soul. If… If he wants to hurt me, and to, to t-torment me like this, he can, and he will, and he needs no further reasoning than that. I deserve it anyway.”

A horrid chill runs down Auden's spine as he listens to the most harmless looking creature he has ever seen parrot the words they must have been taught by their cruel master. Their very wording is so twistedly familiar to Auden, yet so alien — Auden feels devoted to his Lord, and willingly gives his everything to Him, while Mori was only forced to serve another, and bullied into the ground until they knelt and learned how to please him best. In the end, pure worship and devotion looks quite similar to fear of punishment, dependency and this forcefully taught ‘right’ behaviour. And the way to please Death is apparently to offer your body to be tormented for sadistic pleasure.

‘I don't see much of a difference. Devotion and control, punishment and mercy. Dependence, fear, worship. You and your Lord are much the same, however you twist it.’

Auden does not even entertain the voice. A huff of air leaves him, a wave of what could only be what his people call temptation. Sacrilegious thoughts cross his brain, but he never even thinks to come back with an argument. Not while in the vicinity of someone who needs his help. However, he also does not at all know how to respond to Mori's statement. Anything his mind comes up with sounds just so utterly hypocritical and hopeless. Subservience is the life of angels; what advice could he give to this poor creature who is forced to forget themself entirely in favour of pleasing a merciless overlord of the dead.

In the end, the blue silence is broken by Mori. — “I-I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir, please forgive me. Please help yourself to dinner. I hope it is to your, your liking. You must be famished.”

“I-I, wait —!” — Auden stutters, watching Mori walk past him and kneel next to the long dinner table with little grace, closing their eyes and tilting their head down in submission. They must be waiting for Auden to finish his food so they can take the tray and leave. While the situation is ever more unnerving, the angel simply doesn't know how to make it better. He lets out a long sigh, and walks over to one of the armchairs positioned at the end of the table, settling in it. His shoulders remain tense, but he is slowly unwinding, feeling safer every second the Reaper is away, and Mori is unharmed. He tries to ignore the awful, unbefitting position of having someone kneel next to him while he lounges around on a plush cushion with warm food, but he fails so quickly he almost slides right off the silky material to kneel next to Mori, if only the table wasn't so high to not allow him to reach it kneeling. Instead, before he takes a single bite, he clears his throat.

“Uh, um… you, you don't have to keep kneeling. There's more than enough chairs, you can, you can sit with me!” — Mori looks up at him, almost confused, before they turn their gaze right back down. Auden can see their shoulders have tensed up.

“Yes, sir,” — they say quietly, getting their hooves under them to limp their way over to the closest chair, sitting down next to Auden. They somehow look even less comfortable. They look so small in that tall backed plush chair, only making themself smaller as they hunch over, keeping their eyes trained on their legs bouncing under the wooden surface.

Mori took his question as an order, not as a simple offer.

Auden finds it harder and harder to focus on anything but the delicacies taunting him under his nose. His fingers twitch to reach, his mouth is drowning him. It hurts to deprive himself like this, it hurts so much more than he thought it was possible. It scares him, how swiftly he would turn into a wild thing, hitting and screaming and biting at anyone just for a single bite. He already has trouble just keeping himself in check, his hunger outweighing his guilt and exhaustion by a tonne, even with Mori in the same room. Falling has made him endlessly pathetic, leaving a hole inside him that only grows with each day, swallowing his worried little heart and any remaining grace he possessed as an angel.

The only thing stopping him from lifting the whole tray and slamming his face into it as fast as possible is a lack of knowledge — he must ask, however embarrassing it is that he has to; — “This, um… Is this edible?”

“Of course, sir.”

“C-, can I uh… can I eat this? All of it?”

“Yes, sir. It is yours.”

Tilting his head this way and that, he makes the decision to reach out towards one of the bowls. It has small green balls in it. A fruit? Looks plant-like, smells of nature and sweetness. They are connected by a dark branch. He takes hold of one, tearing it from the branch. It's just a little bouncy, soft orb. It smells divine.

Finally, he pops it in his mouth, his teeth demolishing it before he could observe it any further in instinct. It splits into wet chunks of cool, sweet, satisfying grape flesh. Such immense flavour, such incredible satisfaction! He tears up as he reaches for more, tearing more and more off and consuming them faster and faster, forgetting about decency and worries entirely. He shoves too much in his mouth at once and whimpers in delight and pain, not even caring as he chokes on the succulent juices flowing down the wrong pipe.

He could kill for this. He will kill for this, he's certain. This is the best feeling he has ever felt. Animalistic instincts be damned, he is ecstatic.

Mori’s attention is suddenly revived, a look of concern crossing their face as they see the angel suffocating himself in fruit. They hesitate, but make an executive decision in the end, standing and taking hold of Auden's wrists gently, but firmly. — “Sir, s-sir! Sir, please slow down! You shouldn't — I, I mean there is no need to hurry!”

Auden is crying tears of joy, hunched over, concentrating on swallowing the large mouthful he stuffed into himself. Sniffles and whines escape him as he slowly recognises Mori and the irritation of his poor throat. He gives a worried sound, signalling to Mori for help, so confused and scared on what to do now that he realised what he has done. Mori looks at him with purpose, a look that knows, a gentle hand holding Auden still on his shoulder.

“Just, just concentrate on chewing, yeah? It's okay, it'll pass, just chew and swallow when you can.” — Relaxing motions on his back from the palm warming him, going in slow circles. He finds unpopped grapes on his tongue, and slowly but surely works on munching them up into a smaller ball, swallowing bit by bit. His lungs lurch from the liquid trapped there, but soon enough, he finds the rhythm of his breaths again. — “That's, that's good. Well done.”

“Thank, th-thank you… so much. Thank you for helping me.” — His expression shows immense shame. Even after everything, Mori would still help him. He needs help just to eat… There is no one in the world who is any more pitiful than him, be reckons. He feels like less than nothing, like the most useless, disposable fool.

To Auden's surprise, a small, sad smile crosses Mori's face. — “Well, I, I guess I… have had similar experiences. I know how it feels to, to be allowed to eat after starvation. I'm, uh, I just had to help.”

Once Auden is feeling better, Mori helps him choose something else from the pallette. With their guidance, Auden discovers so many wondrous flavours he never knew before, finally satisfying his always churning stomach in a way he never knew was going to be possible. Different small bowls with different things he doesn't recognise, all filled with goodness. Some of them Mori names as they lift for him, like the cheese bowl. He isn't sure what a cheese is, but it tastes savoury and sometimes light, and it's easy and creamy and flows and melts and he is so glad Mori stops him before he could become too excited again and let the melted cheese stick to the inside of his throat.

After a few bowls of snacks, Mori suggests the main dish. Auden cannot even begin to guess what it is, or how to go about eating it. Something red-brown, warm, smells the strongest. It's soaked in something that resembles the thickness of blood, but when he asks about it, Mori is quick to reassure him it is only a sweet ‘sauce’.

With an optimistic thought, he lifts both hands and digs into the sticky sauce coating the ribs, lifting the whole thing to his mouth, managing to take a bite out of it. While the taste is immaculate, as he lets it rest against the plate while he chews, he notices Mori's puzzled eyes staring at him as if he grew another head.

His chewing slows, then stops and he swallows. He must have done something wrong, but isn't certain what. Mori does not really make it easier to understand.

He has sauce all over his… everything.

“Uh, I um… I did bring utensils.”

When Auden remained silent, looking back to the massive piece of meat and then to Mori, they grow nervous, clarifying immediately, — “b-b-but, it is not my place to tell you how to eat, sir. Please, pro-proceed as you wish. I was just… offering.”

When Auden still doesn't say anything, they revert completely to their submissive servant mode, hunching over and averting their gaze, only whispering a bare, fearful apology.

Now it's Auden's turn to worry, dropping the whole thing back on the plate to raise his hands in surrender, accidentally causing the poor deer to flinch. — “No, n-no, I'm, I'm not angry! I swear. I just, I'm… wh-what is a, a u-ten-sils?”

The red magma of embarrassment in his face is worth it when Mori dares to return his look of general worry and lack of understanding. — “What? Wha-What do you mean, sir?”

“I-I…” — he shakes his head, finally gathering the courage to admit, — “I-I don't… don't really know what, what that means… I've… This is the first time I've ever, uh… ever eaten anything. I know, it sounds stupid but, b-but… sorry, this is so dumb. I sound like an idiot.”

Mori only becomes more worried, downright concerned at that. — “You — What? This is the first time you've been allowed to eat? In your whole life?”

“W-Well, I mean, yes, but —”

“How are you still alive? Were you cursed?” — Mori questions, entirely forgetting their taught manners again. They sound fascinated, amazed, yet terribly confused and apologetic at the same time.

Cursed is more accurate than he will ever admit to himself the longer he spends indulging in earthly delicacies after so long of a lack of need for them. However, — “no, not cursed. I'm… I'm, I'm a Fallen. I didn't need to until now, that's all.”

“Oh… I see.”

An awkward silence arises again, and this time Auden is aware enough to break it himself.

“Your name is um… You're Mori, right? That's what, what your master called you? — he questions. Mori nods. — “My name is Auden. You don't need to keep calling me sir.”

Mori flinches again, remembering their manners. — “Yes, Master Auden. I apologise.”

Well, that's even worse.

“No, just Auden is fine!” — he says much too quickly, loudly, making sure he speaks as clearly as possible. His name sounds awful in that context. — “Please, you, you don't have to refer to me by any title. I'm a nobody, always have been, and I am one especially now. You, you don't have to… I'm not a Master of anything. Certainly not you.”

A second passes. Then another. Mori doesn't say anything. — “Isn’t, isn't that what you said to me too? That we're the same? I'm, I'm nothing like… like th-the Reaper. Please don't think I am anything like him. I'm so, so sorry if I made you think I was going to hurt you again. I'm not. Not ever. I am truly, terribly sorry.”

“… You didn't do anything wrong.” — Mori answers vaguely. Their ears never move from their flat state, looking limp and sad hanging from their head. Their arms snake around themself, twitching every once in a while, a distant look in their eyes. They must be reliving their recent tormenting, Auden thinks. The angel can only curse himself for being this inconsiderate, — of course they don't want to talk about it. It's still so fresh in their mind, it must not have been that long at all; a couple hours at most since he left. The blood has not even stopped flowing from their stump. — “And, uh, utensils are the silver stuff in front of you. Those three weird, slim shapes. You use them instead of your hands, so you don't, don't get dirty. You do not need to use them, of course. I'm sorry for not explaining sooner, si — Auden.”

The angel sighs, glancing back to his tray. Now that he isn't starving, he almost wants to leave the rest as a form of self punishment for being the way he is. He does not deserve it, not at all. If anyone, Mori does. They are so incredibly patient with him; another thing he does not deserve. They help him, and calm him, and ground him, and protect him — while he failed to do anything at all. Auden finds the utensils, grabbing onto the alien looking things. A round one, a pointy one, and a small blade. Just as confusing as everything else seems to be. He has seen these before, and recognises them as something humans always held in their hands when they ate. The small quadruple pointed trident was to stick into things and put in his mouth, he thinks. The blade must be for cutting, that much is clear. What the hell do you do with the round paddle?

“Um… Mori, I, uh, I don't really…”

Mori is already up from their chair. They quickly figure out his issue, moving to help. — “Oh, sorry… O-Of course, I'm sorry, I can help.”

As Mori explains, and finally gives back the ‘fork and spoon’, Auden already knows he will not eat a single bite more. He manages, after about twenty seconds, to pull a strip of meat off of the bones forcefully, sticking it on the end of the fork. He holds it like a child, gripping it tight in his fist. Mori tells him he did well, but he doesn't believe them.

“That's pretty much it. You did well. I'm glad I could help.” — They turn to skulk back to their seat without another word, only stopped by Auden grabbing onto them to stop them. Their eyes widen, tense and frightened already despite how non-threatening Auden has been the entire time.

“Would you like to have some of it?” — he asks, holding the fork proudly. They don't even hesitate to think before they decline, — “No, I can't, it is not mine. Th-Thank you.”

They try to pull against Auden's hand, but it doesn't budge. Auden doesn't notice their breathing quicken. — “Come on, for me? I, I can't just sit here and not share. Especially now… I saw how you were looking at the food. You're hungry too, aren't you?”

Their flickering eyes were too noticeable. Auden picked up on it, and now he offers food, and Mori will have to decline and risk disappointing Auden, or accept and be caught by Master Grim later for another round of punishment. They can't choose, they can't choose! How are they meant to do as they are told when their orders clash? It's not theirs, but they are starving, and it smells better than delicious, and Master Auden is offering so it must be fine — but it's meat, they don't like meat. Is it punishment? Master Auden wants to punish them, and then Master Grim will definitely punish them for taking it at all and, and —

“I, I, I-I am not hungry, sir. Thank you.” — Auden doesn't let up, not until it's too late, not until Mori is gasping and shivering and crying all over again, legs buckling under them, — “Please —”

Before Auden could understand, Mori has torn themself away from him with great force, almost falling over one of the chairs, letting it fall to the ground with a loud bang. That seems to only send them deeper into panic, clutching at their chest and hair. They back away from the angel until their back hits the wall, covering their eyes and trying their best to remember how to breathe.

“Mori! Oh heavens, Mori, I didn't mean to! Oh no, oh please —”

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” — is all that comes as an answer, Mori repeating that one phrase as if that's the one phrase they have ever known. They are crying, curling into themself. At the smallest movements from Auden they jerk like they heard a gunshot.

Through the gasping panic, their meltdown seems to suddenly thin, unnaturally quickly. As fast as they descended into complete horror, they now seem to stop breathing all together. Auden watches as Mori twitches up to the side, as if grabbed onto, hands falling away from their eyes to stare upwards at the ceiling, locking onto an invisible pair of eyes. A violent chill runs down Auden's spine, his heart filling with the familiar pressure of magic bringing mortal fear. A tendril of smoke grips Mori's neck, and a whisper inaudible to the angel coos at his helpless deer friend, forcing them to relax.

It's all gone before Auden could even comprehend what had happened, dropping Mori to their knees and disappearing entirely. Silently, they lift a hand to their throat to feel the leftover marks of icy claws that held them.

Auden is already on them, terrified, not daring to touch them at all in case it happens again. — “Mori, Mori, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay, please, please, you have to be — I messed up again. I'm so sorry, I messed up again —”

Blinking slowly, swallowing thickly, Mori returns to Auden. It takes only a few seconds for their eyes to find him, utterly devastated and near tears again, expecting the worst, and then even worse. He cautiously hopes they are okay when he sees them come aware again.

“Mori? Mori, it's me. I'm so sorry. Please, are you alright?“

They nod. They look… haunted. Their eyes are wider than ever, but their face is almost slack. Never before have they resembled a lost child like this. They look like they would shatter if the rain touched them. They nod, finally, answering one of Auden’s torrent of questions.

“Oh thank the Lord, I was so worried. What happened, do you know? I just touched you and then I scared you and then I thought the Reaper was here again, but he wasn't, or he's already gone, and you looked so scared and I was so scared and, and, I'm so so sorry, I'm so stupid —”

“What happened?” — Mori whispers, falling right back into the fragile voice of a ghost.

“Yes, yes, I'm not sure, do you know?”— Auden confesses, wanting to help so badly, but not until he knows he won't make things worse. He cares so much, and yet he keeps messing up, and he needs to learn he can't ever just run into whatever problem and expect a straightforward fix. He is in an illogical world, one he doesn't understand, and one that always has something worse in store for its denizens.

Mori stands abruptly, as if nothing had happened. Auden stands too, questioning Mori again. Mori turns to him, pauses, and only then answers. — “Nothing happened. Master Grim came to tell me I am allowed to eat with you, Master Auden. Thank you for granting me some of your food. I will be forever grateful for this mercy.”

Death visited them, just now. Not a stutter, not a pause — just like a robot. Are they brainwashed? Possessed? No, this is simply how they are. Still the same Mori, but under the constant threat of horrible, unimaginable consequences. This is normal for everyone here except Auden. This is fine. They are all tested and punished and stressed and stretched until they break and find the path of least resistance, the path of the least pain.

And for Mori, according to the Reaper, that path is complete, mindless submission. That is how they defend themself. That's how they survive.

Mori turns and sits at the table without another word, quivering all over. They do not touch anything until Auden follows, and once they are both sitting, Mori stares at Auden like he doesn't exist, and waits to be fed. It's eerie, how calm they have gotten. They shiver and fear as always, but they are like putty moulding into whatever shape Death wants them to be in the moment.

With great hesitance, Auden offers the fork to Mori again. Mori leans down and takes the bite instead of taking the fork in their hand, chewing and swallowing efficiently. They straighten once they swallow, continuing to stare in silence. Their breaths shiver, their flesh twitches, their limbs are wound as tight around their body as possible. They are far from relaxed, yet they never even give a whine of displeasure. Perfect obedience without a word. How they truly feel is irrelevant — all that matters is pleasing their Master.

The angel swears over and over again, both to himself and Mori, that he will protect them. That he won't hurt them again. That they don't need to be scared around him. And every time he has dared to even try helping, it has ended in catastrophe. It's like the Devil himself is punishing him for his decency and kindness. It's like all he touches becomes rotten and dead.

He simply continues feeding Mori in silence, his hunger having completely left him. He says nothing more, knowing Mori is barely even themself right now — they are the most bare bones version of themself that only knows how to please their Master. And they consider Auden one of their Masters.

They might calm down enough to dare being their true self after a certain amount of time has passed, once they find a safe place to exist in for just a minute — but for now, all Auden can do is make sure they eat as much as they want. He will have to make sure to ask when they are full, in case they just keep eating and eating for as long as Auden offers. They think they are nothing but property, right now. A thing. Something to use, abuse, and then throw away. Barely alive.

Auden will be here to remind them they are more than that, once they can truly hear him again. He will remain with them, and he will show the same endless patience they have shown him, and he will do his absolute best to comfort them once they are allowed to feel like a person again. Once they return to him, and regain that shine in their tired eyes that glows with purpose and life. He will be here for them.

Even if his saviour tries to interfere.

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-me-all-night-long

14 notes · View notes

honeycollectswhump · 1 year ago

Text

Things End | People Change – Healing

to the surprise of literally no one, i've been insane about vincent again... enjoy the result of that: a continuation of this!! i guess this is a slight spoiler for @whumpcloud's story? but rather for the vibe than specific plot points

CW: implied / undertones of past sa, references to past torture and starvation

There it is again. The thing, the wobbly metal plate Vincent has come to think of as a weird mirror. It’s the best he’ll get anyway, even though he likes to steal glances at the way modern mirrors are shaped and designed so very differently than what he grew up with. He is denied any grace of a reflection though, another trade for immortality and power he thought so simple. And yet…

Sometimes when he sees Clary’s reflection, her posture held high and proud, just like she should be, Vincent’s mind drifts, wishing for a similar soul that would allow him to see himself as he is. Unlike before though, he doesn’t dwell on it. The knowledge simply is, passing briefly through him, but barely leaving an impact.

Now, he’s in front of his almost-mirror, that twists and turns his shape and everything around him, that Cai got rid of again after what happened the first and last time Vincent had it in his room. The dent –a reminder of what happened– is still visible, distorting the reflections even more. It surprises him that Cai didn’t throw it away and instead just disposed of it in this room, that holds so many memories but mostly also old possessions they can’t seem to bring themselves to get rid of.

Today, the twins have decided to declutter and Vincent is more than delighted to help. Maybe his vampiric strength couldn’t protect him, but now it can help with the mundane chores that come with everyday life, and maybe that's worth something more too.

Which is how he ended up here, once again face to face with his own warped reflection, and he can’t help but stare. He looks…different?

Logically, Vincent knows he shouldn’t look the same as he did after years of starvation and torture, that he prefers to bury in some dark corner of his mind. But without a reliable method of visualising himself, and too afraid of appearing eternally, cursedly bloodstained, he never dwelled too long on how his body might look, never even debated asking Clary or Cai. It was for the better that way.

He’s not bloodsoaked though, his hands are not stained with ash sticking to him like goo, the scars where he ripped his own skin off in an attempt to cleanse himself of the reminder are long gone.

Instead, as he steps forward to take a closer look, he finds that his face seems softer. Gone are the hard edges carved by malnutrition, the sunken-in eyes setting shadows over what remains of Henry. His now rounded jawline is a stark contrast to what it used to be, and together with his slightly plump cheeks, feign a picture of youth. Against all odds and the passing of centuries, he feels like twenty-two again, when he was still unburdened with immortality and foolishly wishing for a change.

His hair is changed too, though he consciously worked towards that. He knows from the way it feels, his curls finally getting defined, the length cut regularly. It takes work, but it feels nice, so nice to finally have something only he can control.

Suddenly, a stray thought overcomes him, and Vincent sheepishly looks around for any onlookers, even though his vampiric hearing already tells him that the twins are busy in the living room. Hesitantly, almost afraid of what he will see, Vincent lifts his jumper up.

Maybe he should feel embarrassed at such a childish action, but right now his curiosity overwhelms any sort of shame.

He chose the jumper by himself too, just like he decides how his hair looks, even though Clary said it makes him look like a grandfather, said that he is finally acting his age. Before, he would have scrambled to rip the fabric off of his body in a desperate attempt to please her again, but now he knows that she is joking. It feels good to know.

His skin is more lifelike, a blush shining through the paleness that makes him look like a dead man. It’s not just that though. Where once protruding ribs used to sit, he can’t even see his bones now, not even a hint when he stretches. It’s a hard-earned layer of fat, chubbiness he’d never take for granted

All of it is both a gift and a symbol, showing the care of feeding him every single day even when it comes at a cost to the twins. He can’t even remember the last time someone showed him such consideration, and it must have been back with Henry, two lifetimes ago, but now that thought doesn’t fill him with the same sadness anymore that it did before.

He is not just grieving something of the past. Care was given once before and it will be given again, no matter how unlikely that still feels to him. Every moment he spends with Clary shows him that. Despite it all, life became good again.

It feels almost easy to believe, that his flesh and skin are ignorant of what happened, that the memory went past them like a light breeze, leaving no mark. Like seeking a thrill, Vincent looks for the imprints he once saw, collaring his neck, tainting his heart and hips. He–

He can find none.

Like a piece of paper left blank, he feels oddly empty. Even without seeing them, he had grown accustomed to expecting them there. The knowledge painting a clear picture spoken in dark, hand-shaped prints holding onto him forever. Something even death could never erase, and yet… And yet he finds himself devoid of such things, finds himself almost—

He cannot finish that thought, cannot think further, not yet.

The curiosity that had taken hold of him made room for a wondrous disbelieve. Vincent looks closer, he finally does, expecting to see contradictions to the fickle hope bubbling in his chest like a new heart.

Another person stares back.

Not the timid boy, with his eternally lowered gaze for reasons he couldn’t understand, hunching his back to make himself as unassuming as possible, always, next to everyone else. Born soft and squishy just to force himself into a rigid form, fitting in with expectations he could never hold, his spine bending under the weight. That never changed, not even after becoming a vampire, especially not with Lyfelde. One head held up high, the other forcefully pushed down.

That’s not who he sees, though. Instead, he sees a young man, standing straight, only bending through the warbling mirror. There is a shine in his Henry-green eyes, and for a moment Vincent thinks that if someone were to look in his face, they’d notice his eyes first and the scar second. Maybe, the scar wouldn’t catch their attention at all.

He can’t remember the last time was allowed to look this soft, the last time he allowed it himself. It goes beyond his rounded cheeks that bring back an air of innocent youth, beyond the comfy sweaters with the good texture. It’s the smile that comes to him easier, the glimmer it brings to his eyes, the silly laugh at stupid things he isn’t afraid to hide. It’s the piles of books, old and new, about linguistics, and the evenings where Clary listens to his rambles. It’s that somehow, before this moment, he had never noticed it all like this, never noticed the meaning beyond the thankfulness that occasionally overwhelms him.

It’s that all of this has never been touched by Lyfelde.

Maybe some of his impact will never leave Vincent, like the honour of creating the last scar his body could ever remember. Maybe he will never be who he was before Lyfelde. But, and the thought makes him feel almost giddy, he is not who he was with Lyfelde anymore either. A metamorphosis maybe, two- or threefold, a life categorised by before’s and after’s but never always’.

Vincent hopes –victoriously–, that if Lyfelde saw him today, with all of his joy, and love, and caring friends that are starting to feel like family, he would be unrecognisable to him.

#I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM #its a curse at this point. ill never be free #he has charmed me with his autistic looser swag and his big wet eyes <3 #things end | people change #honey's writing #other people's ocs #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #multiple caretakers #whumpee and caretaker #recovery #recovering whumpee #referenced past sa #past torture mention #past starvation #vampire whumper #comfort #past trauma

18 notes · View notes

nami-writes · 2 years ago

Text

[ an apple | a day | (keeps the doctor) away ]

couple month old 3 part story i conjured up! i came up with this concept and thought it was pretty cool so yknow. wrote it and now here we are <3

content warnings: implied/referenced abuse, emeto, bad/reluctant "caretaker," starvation, begging

It’s his first day being tasked with watching Villain.

He arrives half an hour early, signs in, and sits in the lounge to pass the time. This promotion may not be due to his competence— it's no secret the heroes’ main facility is becoming understaffed after their public support started dwindling— but he’s not going to let that disprove it. The heroes need all the loyal supporters they can get. Guard can ignore a couple of rumors to prove he's worth their time.

He triple-checks his sidearm before he rounds the corner and exchanges a nod with the guard already there, then takes her place. In five hours they’ll bring him Villain’s dinner to slide under the door and then three hours after that he’ll switch out with the night shift guard and go home. Easy as that. He just needs to ensure Villain eats and check the barred window every few minutes to make sure Villain is still chained up.

He is, upon Guard’s first glance in. The chains are longer than he expected and the cell is also much smaller than he expected. Villain is slumped against the wall, so still Guard can't quite tell if he's still breathing, but he decides that even if he's not, so be it. His job isn't to keep Villain alive. His job is to make sure he doesn't escape.

Things get boring quickly. He starts out looking in every dozen seconds or so, just out of curiosity and amazement that he’s this close to a completely helpless Villain, but nothing ever changes. Minutes and hours drag on and he thinks a strand of hair shifted out of place, but even that could be his imagination. Maybe Villain is just asleep. Guard passes the time counting the cracks in the wall. Then counting them again, just to make sure he didn’t miss any.

Finally, someone brings him Villain’s dinner tray. It holds a couple spoonfuls of what looks like mystery meat, half a cup of water, and a limp carrot. Guard frowns, then shrugs and slides it under. They must intentionally keep him weak. It doesn’t matter to him anyway, just makes his job easier. He's a little hungry too, in fact— maybe he'll bring a snack with him tomorrow.

He checks on him again a few minutes after sliding his lunch in. Villain still hasn’t moved. The chains must be as long as they are so that he can reach his food, but if he’s tried, he left no signs of it. Guard’s starting to think maybe he is asleep.

“Hey,” he calls, knocking on the door with a knuckle. “Wake up and eat your lunch before the rats get to it first.” He doubts there are actually rats, but it makes for a marginally meaner command.

Villain doesn’t show any signs of life. Maybe he’s just dead.

“Hey!” He slams a fist into the door this time. “Wake up!”

He flinches and his head lolls just a bit. Guard frowns, annoyed. So he is alive. He’s just ignoring him.

“Eat your lunch or I’m coming in there,” he shouts. He was instructed to avoid unlocking the door but he is authorized to use force if he deems it necessary.

Either way, that seems to get his attention. Villain’s eyes snap open and he scrambles for the tray of food that Guard isn’t even sure is fully edible. Just to be safe, he watches as Villain takes each painstaking bite. Each one comes slower than the last until he stops completely, with half the tray still untouched. He downs the water, stares at the rest of his food like it hurts to look at with a hand clutching his stomach.

“Stop wasting time and finish your food,” Guard says. Villain has survived this long on this same food. What makes this particular tray so awful?

“I…” He drags in a ragged breath. “I c-ca…”

And then he retches onto the floor, just beside his tray of food.

Guard doesn't know what to do. He watches Villain heave the undigested contents of his stomach onto the floor he now realizes has stains from previous incidents like this and he just stands there because he wasn't told what to do in this situation. He stares in shock as Villain coughs up the last of the chunky vomit and then drags himself back over to the wall, where he collapses again. He doesn't even bother to sit upright, just lies down on his side.

It's fine. They'll probably bring him something new to eat tomorrow. He did eat, technically, and he won’t die from one day without food. Guard knows that doesn't count as eating, but something twists in his gut at the thought of making Villain choke the food down and swallow back his vomit. So he leaves it at that.

He lets Villain sleep for the last hour of his shift, even though the next guard shouts and bangs on the door to wake him up the moment Guard steps away.

—

He brings his own food the next day. A sandwich and an apple. He doubts he's supposed to be eating on the job, but he doesn't exactly have a lunch break and Villain is in no shape to try anything funny.

Things go about the same way they did the day before. He looks into the cell every couple of minutes. There’s a fresh new stain on the floor now, no doubt from yesterday. It seems the janitors didn’t clean it up very well.

With nothing else to do, Guard nibbles on his sandwich. Villain only moves once and it’s to curl up on his side with his arms around his abdomen like he’s still in pain even though it’s been a day. He’s completely silent, though, so Guard leaves him alone.

Five hours have never felt so long. At least yesterday standing in the same place while glancing through bars on a door was new. Now, the minutes drag on and he recounts the cracks in the wall but when that gets old, he starts counting how many times he needs to nibble his sandwich to finish it. When it's gone, he still has three hours left. He could’ve sworn it’s been longer.

He’s bored. He’s tired of standing here. And his only source of entertainment is Villain.

He checks in on him again. Villain is still lying on the ground curled up in a ball. Vomiting should’ve solved whatever was upsetting his stomach, right? What’s still wrong with him?

“Hey,” Guard calls. “Something wrong?”

Villain curls himself tighter. “No.” His voice is strained. It’s a boldfaced lie.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“M’fine.”

He shouldn’t pick a fight with him. He knows it’s not worth it. But he’s bored out of his mind and maybe he shouldn’t just resign himself to letting Villain die, if just because he needs something to do.

He pulls out his key and unlocks the door. The click of the lock catches Villain’s attention immediately and wide eyes meet his as he steps into the room.

“W-wait,” Villain stammers and holds up a thin pleading hand, “wait, wait, I’m sorry, I wasn’t— I didn’t mean to—”

“What’s the problem?” Guard snaps at a cowering Villain. He didn’t exactly expect him to start grovelling, but he just needs to know what’s wrong with him.

His eyes flick between Guard and the door, but then drop to the floor fast. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look at the, um, I just— my… my s-stomach…”

“Throwing up didn’t fix it?”

Villain winces. “No, no sir, it happened, um… after.”

After? “What happened after?”

“...Nothing. Nothing. S-sir.”

“Spit it out,” Guard says, annoyed. “I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. What is it?”

Villain looks torn and terrified. Guard doesn't understand why it's such a big deal. He lifts a hand to gesture “well?” but Villain only cringes away from him.

“Well, it’s something with your stomach, right? And it’s not a digestive issue,” he says. Villain doesn’t respond. That’s a yes. “Lift up your shirt.”

He freezes. Understandable, but annoying nonetheless.

Guard frowns. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me to figure it out a normal way, so lift up your shirt.”

“No, wait, just— I-I’ll talk, I’ll talk, okay?” He sighs and mumbles shamefully through grit teeth. “I… it was a punishment. For throwing up. Okay? That’s— that’s what happened. They, um… beat me.”

“They beat your stomach?”

He nods. He doesn’t lift his gaze from the floor.

“Why?”

“My stomach’s why I threw up,” he shrugs. “So, that’s… that’s what they beat.”

Guard hums in acknowledgment. He sees the reasoning, he supposes, but beating his stomach won’t make him vomit any less. Isn’t the goal to solve the problem?

Villain raises his head just a little bit, daring to glance up. “Am I… are you done now?”

That’s when he remembers he originally just came in here to harass Villain and entertain himself. He almost feels bad. He does feel bad. But he’s already established that he isn’t here to be nice to him, so he just gives him a curt nod and lets him suffer in peace. As close to peace as he can get, at least.

Villain doesn’t move again for the next two-and-a-half hours, save for painstakingly shifting back into the same position on the floor he’d been in before Guard entered the cell. He doesn’t know how Villain is going to stomach his dinner if he threw up last night and now his stomach is in pain. Guard doubts the food will be any better tonight.

He receives the tray on schedule and slides it in. It holds the exact same food as yesterday, only the mystery meat is replaced with beans. It’s not enough to sustain him, not when he didn’t eat last night’s dinner and probably couldn’t eat any meals in between. But what can Guard do?

Thinking about food starts to make him hungry again too, which reminds him— the apple. He’ll just snack on that until his shift is over. He pulls it out and brushes it off and goes to take a bite, then stops. He takes a second to check on Villain. Villain hasn’t moved.

“Hey,” he says. “Uh…” How does he say this without being weird about it? “Are you gonna be able to eat that?”

Villain looks up at the tray of food and his eyelids droop warily. “Yes sir, I will, I’ll… I’ll eat it. I'll eat it. Have to.” He mutters the last bit hoarsely like the knowledge that he needs to eat it to survive is painful.

“I told you to stop lying to me,” Guard snaps. He’s trying to help Villain this time. “I’ve got an apple. If you couldn’t eat that I was gonna give it to you.”

At that, Villain’s eyes light up with hope and desperation. “Please.” He doesn’t even hesitate to beg. “I’m sorry, please. Please, I-I need— I won’t lie to you again, I swear I won’t, I swear, please!”

Part of him relishes in being able to make Villain beg. The better part of him rolls the apple through the slot under the door to get him to stop. “Here. Just don’t throw up again.”

“Y’sir, I won’t, I swear.” He practically lunges for the apple and bites into it. He still winces when he swallows, likely due to his stomach pain, but he gobbles up the apple twice as fast as he tried to eat his dinner last night. “Thank you— thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, then adds, “Really. I doubt I’m supposed to be giving you food. Don’t say anything to anyone or you’ll regret it.”

It’s a bluff— he isn’t actually going to do anything about it, not really— but Villain either doesn’t realize or doesn’t care because he nods vigorously nonetheless. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” He looks down at the untouched tray of prison food beside Villain. “An apple isn’t enough to make up for a day’s worth of missed meals. Try and eat that too. Just don’t eat so much you throw up again and the apple ends up not doing anything for you.”

Villain eyes the tray painfully but at Guard’s command, he steels himself. “Yes, sir.”

He doesn’t make it past three bites, but at least this time he doesn’t vomit. Guard counts that as a win.

#writing #original writing #whump #cw implied/referenced abuse #cw emetophobia #cw bad caretaker #cw starvation #cw begging #guard caretaker villain whumpee dynamic bc i lov it

36 notes · View notes

warnerswilsons · 4 months ago

Text

Raccoon Problem (Whumptober 2024)

I'm doing Whumptober this year! I won't be doing every prompt, and they won't be in order but I figured I'd start with some Schmookie, and what better way to start than by getting in the Halloween Spirit?

The prompts for this oneshot are numbers 12 (starvation), 19 (blood trail) and 20 (emotional angst). More details below.

Content Warnings: Blood, Referenced Starvation, animal death, animal carcasses, Bruises Also, I'm using he/she/they/it pronouns for Schmitty in this chapter. I just think they all fit!

It was starting to get concerningly late. Cookie tapped his foot and leaned against the counter as his eyes wandered from the front window to the back door leading out of the kitchen. Sure, he didn’t expect Schmitty to get home exactly on the dot, but three hours later than planned did seem to be a bit worrying. The Fibbage host opened his phone to try and send his partner yet another call, hoping he’d actually pick up this time. If this fifth call went to voicemail, Cookie was ready to go through every single mutual friend and co-worker the two of them shared until he actually got somewhere.

Then he heard something outside, way past loud enough to reach Cookie through the window. Though the Fakin’ It host didn’t dare look, he could make out quick, shrill hissing and snarling, coming from multiple sources. He tip-toed to the door, letting his back slide against the wall. While Cookie very much did not want to alert this thing of his presence, his mind had started playing the utmost worst-case scenario, and he didn’t know who else would put a stop to it. He reached the door just as the screeching and growling died down and reached for the doorknob, but whatever was just outside beat him to it.

Cookie couldn’t help but gasp when he saw Schmitty standing in the doorway. His eyes were glassy, and a dazed, disoriented expression was plastered on their face. That would’ve been the most concerning thing for Cookie, if not for the fact that Schmitty was covered in blood, most of which stained his right hand, and fingernails that were eerily reminiscent of Sabretooth.

“Schmitty, what the fuck-”

“Raccoon problem outside.” Schmitty jerked a thumb back towards the front door, their voice sounding as cloudy as she looked. “Took care of it.”

“Yeah, really helpful.” Cookie crossed his arms. He’d have to press for an explanation about the quote-unquote ‘raccoon problem’ later. “And by the way, where the fuck were you?! You said you’d be back at half past three hours ago!”

“Got caught up in something.” Schmitty shrugged and headed towards its room. Unfortunately for the Quiplash host, Cookie was faster.

“Look, that’s not gonna fly right now.” The Fibbage host rolled his eyes, making the regrettable decision of grabbing his partner’s shoulders. “You disappear for hours, don’t answer your phone at all, come home looking like you fought the X-Men, and explain it all with some bullshit answer that ‘you got caught up?!’”

Schmitty immediately grasped Cookie’s wrists and narrowed his eyes. For the first time that night, Cookie could see clarity in them. “Look, I’ve had a shit night, and right now, I’d love nothing more than to just go to bed and not have to deal with this right now.” While Cookie kept his gaze fixed on Schmitty’s eyes, he could see red smudges on his wrists as Schmitty unknowingly tightened his grip. The Fakin’ It host squinted as he continued to stare at the other’s face, almost certain that their canines had gotten sharper and more fang-like. It was probably nothing more than the lightheadedness he was beginning to feel.

“Jeez, Schmitty! You could’ve just started with that!” Cookie lifted up his hands and tried to remove them from the other’s grip. “God, that’s really gonna leave a mark.” The comment must’ve been loud enough for Schmitty to hear, since he immediately released its grip on Cookie’s arms.

“Sorry,” Schmitty muttered through gritted teeth.

“Just, don’t. You’re fine.” Cookie paused, letting out a sigh. “Well, obviously, you’re not fine , you just…you know what I mean.” Cookie pressed a thumb onto a now black and blue wrist, glancing down at his hands. “Let’s just table this for now, and talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine.”

Without saying another word, Schmitty started to head off towards their shared room. Cookie let his eyes follow his partner, eventually noticing the blood still dripping from his fingers. As he shifted his gaze to the floor, he noticed a line of crimson trailing across the floor, and most likely well past the front door. The Fibbage host let out a long sigh as he went to treat the bruises on his arms. Hopefully, Schmitty would finally tell him what had happened that night come morning, but in this moment, he just wanted to tend to his wounds and go to bed. He could worry about what that discussion would be like-and the concerningly long trail of blood-tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cookie woke up relatively early the next morning, and immediately could sense that something felt different. For one thing, he found himself sprawled at the center of the bed, the mattress feeling wider than usual. As he continued to wake up, he noticed why. Schmitty’s side of the bed was completely empty, and felt almost cold to the touch.

Huh. Maybe he got up a while ago . Cookie pushed himself out of bed to see if his assumption was true. As the Fakin’ It host made his way into the hall, he heard snoring, the sound getting louder and louder as he got closer. Once he reached the living room, he found Schmitty, fast asleep on the couch, with all the blinds closed. Cookie let out a sigh, thinking about how cute his partner looked, before going to open one of the blinds. It was midmorning, after all. Cookie hadn’t even opened the blind an inch before he saw Schmitty physically launch himself off of the couch and scurry out of the room. Cookie let the curtain drop out of his hand as he heard distant snoring resume once again. He sat down on the couch, and typed out a list of every questionable thing Schmitty had done in the past several hours. He quickly copied the list, and opened a text message. He quickly typed out some context above the message.

Cookie; 09:42: I know you’re into monsters and shit. Schmitty’s been acting weird, and i dont know why. Said weird shit below.

It barely took a minute to get a response.

Laios; 09:43 : Let me check and I’ll get back to you!

Cookie simply sent back an ‘okay’ sign and leaned into the back of the couch. Hopefully he’d get some explanation soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t for another number of hours until Cookie saw Schmitty again. The Fibbage host was quite literally just about to dig into a sandwich, when Schmitty trudged out, picking up speed as she noticed the fridge.

“Oh thank god! You’re finally up!” Sadly, Cookie’s comment went unheard as the Quiplash host opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of ranch dressing. It didn’t even bother to close the door before unscrewing the cap and chugged the entire fucking bottle.

“Um, what the fuck?!”

Schmitty didn’t even register their boyfriend’s comment. They just dropped the bottle on the floor, and turned around as if something caught his ear. Cookie went to follow Schmitty out the front door when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Immediately, he whipped it out and tried to skim through the notification, his eyes not picking up anything else aside from ‘skinwalker’. While Cookie hoped that Laios was wrong, he still felt like he had to at least have something in case he needed to defend himself. With that, Cookie made his way out to the front porch, and what he saw in his lawn didn’t make him any less concerned in the slightest.

There was Schmitty, standing on the porch, next to a tree, with what looked like a shriveled bird in his hand, and blood running down his fingers. In fact, their hand was quite literally going through the bird. Cookie shuddered as he looked away, only to be met with something resembling a racoon carcass with a hole through its torso. Well, at least he finally knew what the ‘racoon problem’ was. Kind of. Cookie’s attention was brought back to Schmitty when she let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, I really needed that.” The Quiplash host turned to Cookie, seeming to be much more like himself. Cookie shakily revealed the steak knife he’d been holding all this time.

“What’d you do to them?!”

“I’m sorry?” Schmitty tilted her head ever so slightly.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You should know that as the host of Fakin’ It and its sequel Fakin’ It All Night Long, I know how to spot a faker!”

“Wow. Way to brag about your third series of games.” The Quiplash host stared at its boyfriend with the most deadpan expression. “And I’m serious. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean that, you killed my partner and tried to take their place! I’m not gonna let you get away with replacing Schmitty, skinwalker!” Cookie stepped forward, waving the knife in the air with much less grace than he’d handle his buzzsaw with. To his surprise, Schmitty didn’t retaliate.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Cookie, but again. What the fuck?” They took a moment to go over the speech their boyfriend had just given before failing to stifle a laugh. “You think I’m a skinwalker?”

“Well, yeah? What else would you be?” Cookie reluctantly lowered his weapon of choice.

“A vampire…”

“Yeah, right.” Now it was Cookie’s turn to laugh in disbelief. “Since when?”

“Since last night.” Schmitty shrugged as if this was just common knowledge. “I’m sorry, why the fuck did you think I was a skinwalker?”

“Well, Laios said-”

“He wasn’t even there when that happened!” Schmitty started to make its way inside, and this time, Cookie was quick to follow. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re missing some context.” He paused for a second. “And he’s definitely gonna ask me about this, isn’t he?”

“Forget Laios’s questions! I’ve got a shit-ton of ‘em too!” Cookie flung his hands in the air before quickly making sure to place the knife on the first shelf he saw. “Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?”

“Do you really think I was in a place to?” The Quiplash host whipped around, his breathing getting quicker and quicker. “Look, it happened almost instantaneously, and I almost attacked the kid because that’s how much I was craving blood! So excuse me for wanting to just come home and at least have some hope that this all has been a twisted nightmare!”

“Oh shit…”

“And I just…can’t bear the thought of hurting you too.” Schmitty cringed as its voice broke but there was no stopping them now. “Hell, I don’t even know how long the bird and raccoon blood are gonna hold me over until there’s nothing else I can do.” The Quiplash host trailed off, hugging herself with her arms. Without hesitation, Cookie wrapped his arms around them, simply staying there for a while. When the Fibbage host broke away, he gently grabbed Schmitty’s hands and looked him square in the eye.

“Hey, I’ll be okay, Schmitty!” While his tone was genuine, that did not seem to reassure it. “Say that does happen. We’ll make an emergency plan, and I’ll be better in no time!”

“Cookie, I don’t think it’s that-”

“You need human blood specifically? You and I both know some quick and easy ways to get some. And you won’t even need to hurt anyone! I promise you, we’ve got this!”

“Jesus, Cookie. How are you so unfazed by this?” While Schmitty’s did seem slightly more relaxed, there was still a sense of wariness in his tone. “You’re just okay with all of this?”

“Well, to be fair it’s not the worst-case scenario I’d thought of by far.” That got a small shrug from the Quiplash host. “And what sort of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t gonna work with you through this? You’ve done the same for me after, well, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s a fair point.” Schmitty let out a sigh, dropping her hands. “But what about the kids? What about work? I think it may be a bit hard to explain why I can only host Quiplash in the middle of the fucking night!”

“We’ll plan for that too!” Cookie led Schmitty over to the couch and sat down. “But clearly talking about this now is only gonna stress you out more, so how about we just sit down, put on a movie or something, and pick this back up whenever you’re ready to, okay?”

“Honestly, That’ll probably help a lot.” Schmitty dropped down onto the couch, right next to his boyfriend. “Got anything in mind?”

“Whatever you want!”

“Great!” Schmitty quickly grabbed the remote and started scrolling through any selection he could find. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cookie staring at him with a giddy grin. “What? What is it this time?”

“I’m just glad to see you acting like you again,” Cookie purred, leaning into the other’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Wonder how long that’ll last.”

“Oh, come on!” The Fibbage host gently gave Schmitty a soft jab in the arm. “Can’t a guy just be glad to see his partner finally getting a moment of peace?”

“Actually, that sounds very nice, Cookie.” The Quiplash host leaned further back into the couch. “God, I love you so much!”

“Yeah, love you too!” Cookie’s grin only got bigger as he stared back and forth between Schmitty and the TV. “Anyways, are you gonna pick a movie or are we just gonna continue acting like we’re in a cheesy romcom for the rest of the day?”

“Hey! It’s a tough decision!” Schmitty threw their arms up in mock defense. “Maybe next time I should just let the movie trivia expert pick!”

The Fakin’ It host chuckled, unknowingly kicking his legs out a bit. “You have no idea how much I missed this.”

“Oh, believe me. I think I might.”

The couple’s back and forth went on for a while even overlapping the movie they were meant to be watching. Somehow, that was the most reassuring thing out of all this, whether they knew it or not.

1 note · View note

samtheacesheep · 1 year ago

Text

Work Description:

Milo escapes from the dungeon he has been imprisoned in. Despite his freedom, loneliness weighs on him, as does the inevitability of his future.

———

a new mml au, called the fairytale au!

#whumptober2023 #no.3 #‘like crying out in empty rooms with no one there except the moon’#mml #fic #minor whump #implied/referenced torture #touch starvation #isolation #I wrote a thing #mml fairytale au

0 notes

mybrokenlittletoy · 2 years ago

Text

Beta Reader Requested

Would any one be interested in being a beta reader for a new fic of mine? It isn't finished/still in the rough drafts stage and the CW list is long. Fandom Based: The Magnus Archives Main Characters: Daisy Tonner and Jonathan Sims cw- cannibalism cw- dehumanization cw- object insertion (not sexual) cw- supernatural torture cw- conditioning cw- panic attacks cw- force feeding (not sexual) cw- whumpcare cw- starvation/dehydration Beginning Paragraph Jon looked so pretty when he cried. His head would throw back, he would make such adorable little noises like he was trying to stifle himself, and when the tears he was holding back would push harder and harder against his eyes and finally began to fall he would sniffle. He would arch his back if he was tied loose enough and thrash. Oh he would thrash, and sob, and scream loud enough that he would choke on his own blood as he coughed. And once he started screaming, he couldn't stop. It was as if a gate had been opened in him and he was beautiful.

#beta reader #fandom referenced #whump #panic attacks #conditioning #dehumanization #starvation #dehydration #the magnus archives #rough draft

0 notes

leighsartworks216 · 2 months ago

Text

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

This is a continuation of the first masterlist. Future Love and Deepspace fics will all be added here

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Request Rules

Tag List Form

Zayne

Damn Him - AO3 - Father!Zayne x Mother!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, angst (at the end), family fic, breasts, Dawnbreaker, swearing

Honey, I'm Home - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, desserts & sweets, sleepiness, kissing, couch cuddles

Public Displays of Affection - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, physical affection

Christmas Surprises - AO3 - Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Christmas, fluff, domestic fluff, unplanned pregnancy, marriage proposal, crying, literal sleeping together, cuddling, anxiety

All-Nighter - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: pre-relationship, college au, cuddling, literal sleeping together, food, sharing food

Silent Night - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, parenthood, Christmas, cuddling, food, sharing food

Doctor's Orders - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, Christmas, childhood friends, cuddling, crying, not proofread, possibly OOC

Self-Destruction - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, swearing, anger, implied/referenced self-harm, self-destructive behavior/tendencies, no real ending

Knitting Hands - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, knitting

When You Forget Things A Lot - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, headcanons

Calling Out - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, a little silly, sleep deprivation, exhaustion, stress

I'll See You In The Morning - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

SMUT Warnings: fluff, smut, established relationship, kissing, biting, creampie, gentle sex, light teasing, banter, gender neutral smut (no parts described)

Just A Bad Dream - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, nightmares, cuddling, literal sleeping together, forehead kisses

As If In A Dream - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, domestic fluff, children, cooking, kissing, blood, open ending

Intrusion - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, caretaking, pre or early relationship, depression, food, hugging, crying

Warm Hands - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, no dialogue, cuddling, slightly touch-starved Zayne, sleep, scars

Sylus

Puppy - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: swearing, pet names, biting, teasing, fluff

You make me feel like a fool (Waiting for you) - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, light angst, kissing, sleepiness, literal sleeping together, established relationship, cuddling, injury, bruises, soft + kinda clingy Sylus

Kiss-Proof - AO3 - Sylus x implied fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, kissing, established relationship, lipstick, implied sexual content at the end

The Calm After The Storm - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, silly, Christmas, alcohol, drinking, kissing, cuddling, some family drama

Sour Candy - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, silly, swearing, candy, food

Worship - AO3 - Sylus x fat!fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of being fat, mentions of a fupa, dresses, teasing, kissing, biting, bruises mentioned, spicy but not full smut

Boss's First Christmas - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, Christmas, cuddling, kissing, glasses

Suffering - AO3 - Sylus x touch-averse!gn!Reader

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, touch aversion, touch starvation, kissing, first kiss

Live Stream - AO3 - Sylus x gn!streamer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, silly, established relationship, video games

Dove - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: pre-relationship, pet names, banter, guns

Beloved - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

SMUT Warnings: soft smut, comfort no hurt, caretaking, pet names, creampie, cockwarming (kinda), cuddling, gentle kisses, gender neutral smut (no parts described)

Sleep Schedule - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, silly, pre-relationship or early relationship

Sweet Mindless Love - AO3 - werewolf!Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: light angst, mild hurt/comfort, fluff, swearing, pet names, werewolf AU, scent stuff, painful transformation with minor descriptions, temporary character death (silly)

Recharge - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, kissing, cuddling, banter, pet names

What's the Whole World - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, cuddling, crying, swearing

Cup Runneth Over - AO3 - Sylus x fem!Reader

SMUT Warnings: smut, established relationship, swearing, creampie, stuffing, size kink, aftercare, praise kink, biting, kissing, licking, begging, overstimulation, explicit consent

It's Nothing - AO3 - Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing

Insatiable - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Sexual Content Warnings: fluff, established relationship, implied sexual content, banter, sweat, kissing, cuddling, teasing, licking, marking, biting, swearing

I Heart You - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, children, parenthood, silly, kissing, references to Sylus's Mountain Journey and myth

Sleeping In - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, literal sleeping together, implied/partial nudity, kissing, cuddling

I'm Sorry (I Still Love You) - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, no dialogue, established relationship, literal sleeping together, cuddling, arguing

Mud Masks - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader

Warnings: fluff, silly, established relationship, kissing, implied height difference, slightly suggestive, banter

Snowcrow - Zayne x Sylus

Being Sick HCs - Part Two - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader x Sylus

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, polyamory, sickfic, cuddling, mention of food

Lay All Your Love On Me - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader & Sylus

Warnings: fluff, silly, jealousy, drunkenness, Sylus being a little shit

The World At Peace - AO3 - Zayne x gn!Reader x Sylus

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, polyamory, cuddling, literal sleeping together

Hostage Situation - AO3 - Zayne x Sylus (x gn!Reader)

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, polyamory, cuddling, kissing, literal sleeping together, pet names, dialogue heavy

Your Majesty - AO3 - Zayne x fem!Reader x Sylus

SMUT Warnings: pwp, smut, polyamory, threesome, royalty AU, kissing, cuddling, cum swallowing, blow jobs, face sitting, hair pulling, anal sex, fingering, oral, 69, light dom/sub, sweat, banter, teasing, biting

If You're Quiet During Sex (Headcanons) - AO3 - Sylus x gn!Reader + Zayne x gn!Reader (separate)

Warnings: sexual content

Rafayel

Artist to Artist - AO3 - Rafayel x gn!illustrator!Reader

Warnings: fluff, silly, clingy Rafayel, cuddling, teasing

Fine Arts - AO3 - Rafayel x gn!graphic designer!Reader

Warnings: pre-relationship, banter, bickering, if this was a full series it would be enemies to lovers

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #zayne #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #lads sylus #lads zayne #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader

172 notes · View notes

tired-of-being-nice · 11 months ago

Text

too weak to move

@febuwhump day 18!!!! ehehehe *kicks legs* oh boy!!!!!!

cws: starvation, sleep deprivation, referenced injury and brainwashing

Coren places one foot in front of the other very, very carefully. They feel funny— sort of floaty, lightheaded with pain and hunger and sheer exhaustion, and they giggle to themself over nothing in particular as they stumble towards home. They were promised a whole 30 minutes of rest, and they're so excited. Rest would feel so nice, and more importantly, it would (maybe) give their body time to heal the wounds that have been bothering it for the past...couple days? They can't really remember. Time gets so funny when you haven't slept and you haven't eaten and your blood keeps going where it shouldn't and— they're happy here! Yes, they are, definitely, they—

They aren't being careful enough in their walking. Their foot hits their other foot, and their knees hit each other, and then very abruptly they're on the ground.

Hmmm. They should move, they think.

They should move.

...They can't move.

They want to. They really, desperately want to. They want to drag themself offi the cold ground and out of this dark alleyway and back to their room and to bed, oh god, they want to be in bed so badly it hurts.

But they can't. They can't move, they're so tired and everything hurts and they haven't eaten in far too long. And it's their fault, they know, they know it's their fault and that if they were better and stronger and worked harder they would have time to eat, time to rest, time to do anything but work. But they don't. They can never be good enough and now look where it's gotten them. They can't get anythingdone like this.

They try—they try really, really hard—to move at least their arm. Just their arm. A hand, even.

They manage to raise an arm, just slightly, and then let it thud back to the ground. Pathetic. Even that feels like it took so much out of them. They're so exhausted. How did they not realize before now how weak they are?

The noise, they think. There's a certain noise, that the Company sometimes has them listen to. It fills them with energy, stops them from feeling hurt or tired or hungry, stops them from thinking incorrect things. They like it. They miss it. They want to hear the noise now.

They're so cold. They're so tired. If it weren't for how badly everything hurt, they'd fall asleep, but they can't do that either. And they can't move.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday18 #whump #starvation #sleep deprivation #too weak to move #referenced injury #referenced brainwashing #oc: coren #october's whump

7 notes · View notes

zuzu-draws · 9 months ago

Text

So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.

I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!

Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.

This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!

This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.

What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.

Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.

And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)

In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.

On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.

Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:

Link to the original thread: Link.

More context (and reactions :P):

Link to original thread: Here

This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.

When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:

When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?

No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.

This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.

This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.

Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )

I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.

He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.

I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.

Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.

Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.

This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.

I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:

Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.

Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.

But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:

This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.

Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.

If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3

#ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #king of curses #heian era #character analysis #manga #jjk manga #jjk 257 #this is...so very long omg im sorry for my huge word vomit #like 1.4k works but i really did felt like i wanted to gather my scattered thoughts into one place and kind of make the connections #not sure if anyone is gonna read this but if they do #thanks for reading! be sure to let me know what u think!#i just love psycho-analysis of my fav characters and being able to really understand the essence of their characters #their emotions their motivations and to finally be able to do that with Sukuna and reading what everyone else have to say about it ahhh #im super excited! We're finally getting close to the Heian Backlore!! rejoice!!#my gut always did tell me he was a tragic character T_T and now we're finally getting the tid bits #also apologies for adding different panels #but i only added the translations i liked #i don't like J*hn W*rry's translation like yuck #so ima wait for Lightning's translation notes~ for further clarifications!

422 notes · View notes

thegeniusofplaytimeco · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 13: Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Summary:

It begins, you as the Doctor who created the experiments VS The Experiments! But the chapter starts slowly, a little background lore, inner monologues and explanations of plot points that may have been left open. Your unmatched mind, your way of thinking that is ahead of every person on this planet and the challenge that comes with it. But in all these thoughts, the situation seems even more surreal on the hand: While you are standing here, Huggy Wuggy is waiting just a few meters away from you, waiting to attack.

Notes:

This story hasn't gotten an update in a damn long time! I'm sorry to everyone, but I hope you know that I have several stories going on. It's quite hard to keep moving from one character to another because all my characters are so damn different. A child plagued by terror. A teenager who suddenly discovers his superpower. A spy who spies on a foreign world. And of course the genius, who is on a completely different path, far from the one that a person has ever walked. Okay, enough talk! Enjoy reading and leave kudos and a comment! wc: 5.5 k

---

Panic.

Normally something you didn't know. Normal people knew it, but you didn't.

Arguments at home, with parents or siblings. Stress at work, that oppressed feeling in your stomach, and the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Not being able to keep to a time slot and then having to apologize to someone else for it. Having once tried to take responsibility, but now having to live with the consequences and failure.

You had it easy, honestly. That was always down to two things.

You were absolutely emotionless, Stoic, and always reacted and lived with logic. All things had a reason, some due to human stupidity, some due to science, and other things could happen absolutely by chance. You never believed in things like luck, chance exists, is mathematically verifiable and fitted more into your rational way of thinking.

The second point is even simpler than your always thinking too much way of thinking: you are simply better. You don't need stress, neither in life nor at work. People create stressful situations, so you distance yourself from them as much as possible or give them orders, because if you want something to be good, you have to do it, after all, nobody else is even remotely on your level.

But there it was again: your life had absolutely no reason to be lived. Others would probably have killed themselves in your skin within the first few days. A life that consisted of numbers, dates and absolutely nothing else. Feelings were secondary; in your opinion, you only acted on them if you were either an idiot or completely without a plan.

It may sound edgy to most people, but it didn't matter to you whether you died alone or not. In the end, whether you die alone or with others, absolutely nothing changes in the result. You didn't care what other people thought about you, to you everyone was worth less than you anyway.

You were called a genius, what other person had such an acronym? You were at the top, no, you are the top. There will never be anyone who can even begin to think as far as you. You've always been a thousand steps ahead, when you do something; say something; plan something: it was perfect. It would probably take other people years to understand a single move you make.

That's why feelings were of secondary importance to you, if at all. You can always feel, at least normal people can, but thinking and knowledge were better. Being able to assess others, write reports, solve complicated equations and formulas that took others years to do, that was your field. The world can be explained with the help of numbers, which you saw everywhere in your everyday life.

But in this whole world, there were only an incredible few people who existed in your eyes.

Once there were your parents, without them you wouldn't have been born. Thanks to cell division during sex, you had the incredible misfortune of being born. You were a fairly quiet child, but the costs from your birth to the age of seven were 310,754 dollars. Of course, you weren't able to write things down as a small child, i.e. the costs, but at seven you started to do so and estimated approximately how much you cost, based on your bank statements.

Then your brother, Rin. United by a bond that neither your parents nor anyone else would understand. Brothers who carried the same blood and yet were so different, and the rarest of things, who could still stand each other. You played soccer together on the school team, and you had always promised Rin that one day you would make it big and earn so much that you wouldn't be able to spend it.

That's how it would have turned out if you hadn't done the year abroad and...

Doesn't matter.

And then there he was: Elliot Ludwig. Probably the only person who made you think twice before you said something. Elliot was dangerous, and you were sure you were the only one who knew that.

A person who can look millions of people in the eye, give their children a smile, and at the same time has children's corpses in the basement and turns them into toys.

However, you or Harley Sawyer carried out the operations.

So who was really the monster?

All in all, you could say that your life is a tale of woe, with a protagonist who you neither know whether he wants to be the main character, nor whether he feels anything at all or wants to live.

In your opinion, life, birth to death, was an absolute waste. A genius like you was absolutely wrong at that time. Like someone trying to explain colors to a blind man, you wandered from place to place to gain knowledge, to satisfy your hunger for information and to become something at the same time.

And that's how you ended up here: Playtime Co.

A company that was not known to you for its many toys, but for the scientific situation that absolutely destroyed it. Rising electricity prices, sales figures not as high as before, and reports of employees disappearing. You had a rough idea of what was happening there, and by simple addition and logic you had an idea of how it could be done much better.

That was the birth of genius.

The previous head doctor at the hospital, who was described by others as a miracle, finally found his place in the Emotional and Dark World. A genius who worked directly under the boss, ran the labs, and even people like Harley Sawyer were subordinate to him. Truly the smartest and best employee Playtime Co would ever have.

Thinking back to work always made you think of your mother. How she used to tell you and your brother that you needed a "good job", "where you don't break yourself". If only she knew what you've done, how many bodies you've destroyed and turned into damned monsters and deformities.

Percentage-wise, you had to think about your mother more often than anything else. Her voice, somewhere in the back of your emotionless, cold and rational mind. It was as if Playtime Co was the evil that drew you to the deeds, and then there was your mother, who always believed that you weren't really the way you acted. On top of that, you had always seen how your mother took care of everyone in the family, but they always left her alone.

It was unfair. But that was life. That's why you left out feelings, thoughts and everything else that made a mere mortal. There were enough other idiots who thought like that, and as long as you thought perfectly and always knew what was coming, you were ahead of every fucking person on this filthy planet.

Your life was one big pile of complicated garbage, but it doesn't matter anyway. Sooner or later everyone dies, whether you were famous, maybe made it into the history books or whatever, in the end it doesn't matter anyway.

Because all Humans will someday Meet with an Accident or Disease and Die, Without Exception.

All these thoughts, all this knowledge, the knowledge that you would die anyway, made every day feel like the same day. It didn't really matter, every day was just another hand on the clock that slowly pointed to your inevitable death. But death was just as normal to you as life. You never understood why people were afraid of it and didn't just accept it.

You were a solution in search of a problem

"A heart full of sentimentality is dangerous"

Was it something you told yourself or something that was drummed into you?

So what, and what difference does it make now, especially in this situation:

You here, right next to Olivia, in front of the gate where in the infinite darkness Huggy Wuggy is waiting to tear you apart. The subtle smell of toxic enzymes that only your nose can detect is still buzzing in the air as a sign, a warning.

"I think I peed my pants." Olivia says, standing to your left as your two pairs of eyes waver on the colorful gate of the Make-A-Friend room in front of you.

What a fucking idiot.

She was already annoying now, in a situation like this you had to think quickly, which isn't a problem for you, but now it's different. Not only were the Smilling Critters lined up behind the two of you, desperately lining up, but this woman was here too.

There are more variables than you thought, and that causes problems.

Huggy will wait there in front until someone moves into his territory. He will either come out slowly, staggering after his prey, or run. If he runs after it slowly, the adrenaline kicks in, so the meat gets better and he'd rather have it that way.

If he runs, we have absolutely no chance, so we're lucky he won't run. No, it's not luck, I'm starting to sound like that Olivia, that idiot. It's simply the result of Huggys eating habits, nothing more.

Also, if he steps any further into the main room and the hallway, the alarm will go off anyway. That means both of the vents in this room will open, and that will take us into the Conveyor Belt System. But...

You glance slightly to your left, catching sight of Olivia still staring into the darkness, wearing a nervous smile. Your second, important glance goes to the door to the right of the machine, the vent entrance.

Will the critters and that idiot Olivia manage to follow me in the Belt System? Huggy will definitely chase us, and he fits crouched in the ventilation shaft. But with an average speed of 5kmh and the fact that the critters will block each other and panic, it will be difficult to get everyone through easily.

So all the variables have to be right, and we have to unwind Huggy in the Storage Bay, otherwise everyone dies. If everyone dies, no one gets what they want and it's all for nothing. With ten people we'll definitely have problems in the later systems, and in the puzzles with my GrabPack this 'Olivia' will get on my nerves.

In your head, hundreds, thousands of thoughts go through a process that would even make natural selection look bad. Every conceivable possibility, every outcome and every possible person with all their characteristics goes around from the back of your head to reality.

It all happens in seconds, fractions of a second, and the others don't even notice your gaze moving across the room in that brief moment. All the variables were set up correctly, you've rearranged the equation of your survival so many times in your mind that everything will work out. But in the end, everyone but you in this room was just a variable, given a letter by thousands in your head.

They are just variables, nothing more.

"When I tell you to run, you do it." You say, a stoic tone of voice and seriousness that has always lingered in your voice. With that, you slowly take steps forward, into the hallway, aiming to set foot in the darkness where Huggy lingers.

You don't even listen to the words that fall behind you, neither Oliva's nor DogDay's or Hoppy's shouting anything at you. You know they heard what you said, even if they didn't, Oliva did, and that's enough for you. As you walk slowly towards them, you hear the voices behind you that you had intended to block out.

"What's he doing?"

"can't you see that Kickin! He's going to fight the monster now!"

"What nonsense are you two talking about? Huggy is bigger than all of us by far, at least physically." Bubba interrupts, with his head up and his eyes glued to your back.

"Depends on what size we're talking about..." Olivia interjects, with a hand in her hair to comb it back, and a big nervous grin directed at the critters.

"What?" Bubba asks quickly, seemingly not understanding the perverse and rather stupid joke Olivia was about to make.

"Nothing." Olivia says quickly, and a feeling spreads, creating even more nervousness. She hopes Bubba won't ask you later about her joke and what you might say to her.

"But Y/N just said that we should run, didn't he?" DogDay now asks, standing behind CatNap and hugging him from behind, looking around the group.

"Wait...you really trust him?" Now Olivia says, and her voice suddenly becomes serious.

"What do you mean?" Not taking a second, Bubba immediately jumped at the question and put both arms in front of his chest. Bobby, standing next to him, turns to her as well and taps Crafty on the shoulder, causing her to stop shaking.

With that, the rest of the Smilling Critters turned to Olivia, her question arousing everyone's interest.

"So...you know who he is, right?"

That was absolute silence for the time being. Everyone, even Olivia, turns in your direction. While you are already many meters away and in the bright hallway, just a few steps away from the darkness, you think again.

I don't have to run into the darkness, according to the blueprint of this hallway there should be a motion sensor here. But to activate it, Huggy has to walk past it, throwing something won't help, because the sensor has to be activated for several seconds. Only Huggy can do this when he sees me again and needs a few seconds to realize it.

You realize it, a fine human instinct that you had already developed before: You are being watched. The eyes that meet your back, see you standing there with your hair, your black coat, the GrabPack and backpack underneath.

So you turn around and your theory is confirmed. New pairs of eyes stare straight at you, but they don't disappear. You don't make a gesture, you told them what you were going to do and that they had to run, so now you try the last three steps.

"You've heard his title here at the company, haven't you?" Olivia whispers down to the Smilling Critters, which made absolutely no sense because Two was the same size as her. All the Critters formed a circle, Olivia also forming a compartment, and with her head slightly bowed she tells her thoughts into the group. "The genius."

"Yeah..." Bubba remarks, standing directly opposite her in a circle next to Bobby and Crafty. He wags his trunk slightly, looks around the group quickly and continues to answer. "He's the smartest, isn't he?"

With that, Olivia slaps a hand against her forehead and looks hopelessly at the group. There's a conflict going on inside her as to whether she should really tell them the truth, the whole truth. She is quite sure, which she hasn't often been in life, that you had already told them what you had done here.

"He worked above Harley Sawyer a..." Her face, to the shock of the others, turns serious. The previously humorous, take-nothing-seriously woman suddenly spoke in a serious and sentimental voice, and the critters listen. "Really, really bad person."

All eyes are on you as you walk slowly into the darkness.

Step number 1: The darkness is cooler than the Great Make-A-Friend Room, you notice that immediately. Your legs slow down a little, your shoulders rise slightly and you know it's getting serious.

"He has done things that I am certainly not allowed to talk about with you children."

Step Two: Your eyes adjust to the darkness after just a few seconds of exposure. You see the Long Hallway in front of you, dark and smeared with blood everywhere, and then there is this huge figure in front of you.

"I can tell you though, if there's one person the world really hates, it's definitely Y/N. Probably the same the other way around, you've often heard that everyone is dirt to him, the only one from the company who could talk to him on a level was Mr. Ludwig."

Step number three: It was no longer a step. You stand still, deathly still and with an upturned gaze at the experiment that just stood before you. Absolutely nothing has changed in your face, the stoic look that seems almost bored, the stiff posture as it has always been, and the mind that has already thought of everything.

"I can't believe he really wants to bring you here, I don't know what for anyway, probably just to clear his conscience. But I don't think someone like him can sleep at all, with all the things he's done."

With that, you suddenly sprint back, which none of the others seem to have expected. Their faces are indescribable, but they change directly to terror and panic when they see the giant Huggy Wuggy behind you.

You don't even say anything, you don't even run, even though the alarm is now sounding.

"WHAT THE?!"

"THERE HE IS! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

"BUT WHERE TO?"

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

The alarm is quieter than you thought, and the red lights don't seem to be working either. But that's all secondary, your eyes land on the vent next to the machine, which was now open.

"HEY Y/N?! WHAT'S THE PLAN?!"

You turn around, and the sight burns itself into your mind.

She, Olivia, standing straight in her white T-shirt and black jeans, and Huggy slowly approaching behind her. What exactly was it in that moment that burned itself into your mind? Was it her stupidity, why she didn't just follow you with the critters and finally go into the vent as agreed? Or, was it the fact that she somehow managed to look flawless in this, for the others, panic-stricken situation?

"That's the plan!" You shout, even though normally you would have just gone ahead and left the others to their fate.

"THIS IS A FUCKING SHIT PLAN!" She shouts back, or rather screams. Huggy's footsteps become more and more present, and with that, the critters and Olivia finally run over to you and quickly line up in front of the vent.

"HEY DON'T PUSH ME!"

"I DIDN'T!"

"THE GIANT THING IS GETTING CLOSER AND CLOSER!"

You climb onto the conveyor belt, enter the vent and start the chase. Diligently behind you are the others, while Olivia quickly jumps in, the critters all go one after the other, still completely panicked, but no matter. You waste no time, feel the bag on your back rattle and quickly run off.

"HEY Y/N WAIT!" Olivia shouts behind you, and to the shock of the others, you stop for a second to see what's going on. Crafty has apparently fallen down, not expecting the conveyor belt to still move slightly. "COME ON! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE FAST!"

It starts with the slamming down of the vent opening where you were standing a few seconds ago.

Panicked footsteps, thick air and a strong smell of terror in the air. You all run as a group through the Conveyor Belt System, where you have no problem keeping the perfect pace at the front, while some at the back are already slowing down.

"DAMN! HOW MUCH LONGER?!" Olivia yells as she catches her breath and keeps her eyes on your back. Her pink backpack rattles on her back, her permanent grin gone and replaced with a panic face. "I SHOULDN'T HAVE SKIPPED GYM CLASS!"

Left, right, straight ahead, right, straight ahead, left, down, straight ahead, then turn back and just keep walking, then left again and out to the right, which will take you to Storage Bay.

Although most of the paths have not yet been taken, you were already far ahead in your thoughts. Thanks to the blueprints, of which there were over 60, you know exactly where to go, which paths are a 'trap' and how to get directly to Storage Bay, the room you thought was the most logical place to go.

"DAMN THERE'S HUGGY!"

You turn left again, and the others need several seconds to keep up with you.

"HOW ARE YOU SO FAST?! HEY! SHIFT DOWN A GEAR NOW! THIS IS NOT THE OLYMPICS!""

She's so damn stupid.

For a moment, an incredibly brief moment that only good eyes could see, you turn your neck minimally and have a good view to the rear. Olivia and the others can barely keep up with you, and you're immediately made aware of it by their noses, loud breathing and loud footsteps.

Instead of stopping talking and concentrating on keeping up with me, like the Smilling Critters do, she just keeps on talking. I can already hear that she's out of breath and won't make it much further.

"Just straight ahead!" You didn't shout it or make an effort to wrap it up so they could all hear it, given their condition.

"DAMN! WHY DO SMART PEOPLE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SO FUNNY?"

The final sprint follows. Your legs feel as good as ever, you could easily run this distance another twenty times before you notice anything. The conveyor belt beneath you suddenly turns to hard plastic and you are no longer in the belt system.

The new room, where you are all still standing on a small catwalk, consists only of a long catwalk containing multiple pipes and conveyor belts positioned everywhere. But your path is directly blocked by boxes that are stacked high and won't let you through.

You will realize it immediately:

We have to go down a step, onto the catwalk below us.

But how? In a few seconds Huggy will arrive here, destroy the door and run towards us. I don't have infinite time, less than five seconds, if that.

"HEY WHAT ARE WE DOING NOW?" Olivia shouts in your ear as she stands next to you. You all stand on the narrow catwalk, blocked by the boxes and panic in the air.

So you do it, you look around, so quickly that it almost seems like you never did it. All the information from this room flows into your mind, the length of the catwalk to the door, the width, the number of people and even the approximate room temperature. By turning your head to broaden your field of view, you take in all possible information that could help you resolve this situation.

That's how you always did it in the experiments. By looking straight ahead, we are using our central, paracentral and macular visions. But you could do much better: your Blessed Mind allowed you to absorb and process all things at lightning speed, even if you only saw them for a fraction of a millisecond.

In the experiments, it was often the tools, such as the scalpel or clamps. In the event that the patient, now the experiment, woke up, which never happened because you had calculated the exact amount of sleeping pills for the body, you still knew what you should have done.

By including all possible information, the solution seems far too simple for you:

The large box above you, on a stationary conveyor belt.

She was perfect, with your GrabPack you could hit her at an angle, and as soon as Huggy runs at you, you pull her down, hitting not only him, but also the catwalk.

How long would it have taken other people to realize all this, because it only took you 1.7 seconds. But you weren't really a human being, more like the waste of all thoughts and feelings that no one else could process.

"Y/N! WHAT NOW!"

You don't answer, stand in front of Olivia and the Smilling Critters and keep your eyes on the box. The critters panic and stand behind you, with Olivia standing in front of them and directly behind you, in a pose like a mother cat protecting her children.

"HEY! HE'S ABOUT TO COME IN HERE AND KILL US ALL! WHAT'S THE PLAN?!"

"I already told you." You finally reply, turning to face her, her eyes still on your back. Your tone of voice was calm, which Olivia can't understand one bit in this situation, standing frozen as if a giant monster wasn't going to come out and kill you all in a few seconds. "That's the plan."

"DAMN YOU BASTARD NOW SAY IT! I DON'T WANT TO DIE YET OKAY?"

You don't react, press the GrabPack button and land your hand on the box above you. It was wood-colored with yellow lines around the edges and a line through the middle, which somehow doesn't fit here in terms of color. While your hand is already stuck to it and your backpack starts to wobble slightly, you make a mental calculation to be on the safe side, but it only confirms it.

With a gravitational acceleration of 9.81 , the box will have a weight force of approximately 981 newtons. Even if it is lighter, it will be light enough to break through the catwalk and take Huggy with it.

"WHY ARE WE STILL STANDING HERE! WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"I'm scared..."

"IF ALL TEN OF US GO FOR HIM, HE HAS NO CHANCE!"

You ignore the stupid statements behind you, they are unnecessary and so idiotic that they don't even find a place in your mind. Your eyes stay on the vent entrance about 5 meters in front of you. If you mess up the timing by a second, that's it.

Your idea to give the critters something like an apology. Try to come to terms with your incredibly unnecessary life. To find the strength to apologize to your brother for everything. To get your negativity back and start from scratch again.

To make your mother proud for once in your life.

"I HEAR THE BANG, HE'S HERE!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE Y/N! WE HAVE TO RUN AWAY RIGHT NOW!"

You stand still, and the moment Huggy bangs through the metal door, it's quiet. Time passes slowly, your eyes are by far the quickest in the room to comprehend the situation.

At this very moment, with Huggy standing less than ten feet in front of you, no one dares to question your determination. The whole idea was already crazy: the person who turned the Smilling Critters from humans into monsters wants to help them get their old bodies back.

But you act: With a strong press of the switch, the blue and red toy hand of your GrabPack pull on the box, which falls straight down.

It hits Huggy on the head and pushes him down so that he hits the floor of the catwalk with it. She also destroys the platform beneath you, and for a moment you are in the air. The critters scream, but the loudest screaming voice is still Olivia.

You land on your feet and are the only one to do so. As you watch for another second as Huggy slips off the side of the catwalk and falls off, you turn around to see how the others are doing, even though you don't care.

Olivia has fallen on her butt, legs outstretched as she stares into nothingness while holding a nervous smile paired with an aggrieved expression.

DogDay, who had apparently been hugging CatNap, was lying on his stomach. With his tail wagging in the air and his legs bent against his body. CatNap was sitting on his back with a smile on his face, showing that the whole situation had scared him, but now that it was over and the adrenaline had worn off, he would like to do it again.

Hoppy and Kickin are lying right next to each other on their sides, with their chests rising steadily and breathing loudly, which even you can hear. While Hoppy slowly tries to get up, and for a moment her left leg is not in rhythm with her right, Kickin jumps up. He straightens up, holds up his beak and says something like "Phew! Not so bad!".

Bubba, who is completely shocked and doesn't seem to understand the situation, is completely beside himself. After all, he is sitting leaning against the railing with a distraught look on his face. His shakes are shaking, as are his legs, and his arms are just lying next to his blue body.

Picky, Crafty and Bobby lie on top of each other. They almost form a small ball, with Bobby on top and Crafty on the bottom, with Picky in the middle. But they don't stay like that for long, Bobby gets up quickly, helps Picky and Crafty by holding her hand out and stands next to Bubba at the railing.

And then there you are: Absolutely stoic. No sweat, no trembling legs, an almost bored look on your face and complete control of the situation.

"Was this...your plan all along?" Olivia says, for the first time speaking softly and with an adrenaline-drenched tone of voice.

You don't answer, just look down at her, still sitting there on the catwalk, gazing back. It was pathetic for you how a grown-up person could be so stupid and still not understand anything, even though the panic situation was long gone.

You scoff, pass her, straighten your GrabPack and walk ahead again as the head of the group. It was a waste of time for you, and time was ticking, so you don't have much left to waste.

Meanwhile, something completely different was going on with Olivia, her thoughts were in pieces and her smile disappeared from her face.

This guy knew all along what was going to happen. He knew the way since the Make-A-Friend Room and was able to direct us here, and immediately solved the problem with the blocked path!

How far can he see ahead? Could it be that before he entered this factory, he already knew that he would meet another person? That's why he took a GrabPack with him, even though the paths were cleared by me!

Unbelievable... How the hell did he know all this?! How many steps ahead of us is he? Huggy would have slaughtered everyone without a problem, but with simple thinking Y/N put him in checkmate.

He is...

With that, her eyes land on you again, you, the guy walking at the head of the group. She is completely flashed, while her mind slowly puts the pieces of the puzzle together, just as you did hours, days or even years ago.

A genius.

With that, she walks off, past the critters, who are all already busy chatting, and stands next to you again. You don't move a bit, the only sign that you're alive are your footsteps, which leave a slight metallic sound on the catwalk.

We are honestly lucky that he is on our side. Not only does he probably know the inside of this factory better than anyone else, no, he also knows all the experiments.

And in addition...

Her eyes land on your jaw, your pale skin and your eyes. Each feature gets full attention, while the rest of her body continues on automatic. She literally analyzes you and compares what she sees here with the stories she has heard about you.

He doesn't look too bad...

This brings you to an abrupt halt.

"Huh? What's going on up ahead?" Says Kickin, only seven meters behind you. With one hand, he walks around the yellow fur on his head while his eyes land on you and Olivia.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Bobby shivers behind you, with her arms now against the other side.

"We can take a little break here." You say, turning around and looking at the critters. Your eyes land in the middle of DogDay, watching the others out of the corner of your eye.

The word break hasn't even left your mouth for a second before Picky sits down against the railing and rummages around in her backpack.

"Who's up for a slice of pizza?"

Another two seconds pass and the critters organize something like a buffet. They carefully place food and drink on the metal catwalk and distribute it among themselves.

You and Olivia stand next to her, like teachers in a kindergarten group, looking down on them and watching them together. You don't move an inch as you realize that a coffee would be good to completely heighten your senses, which they always are.

"To think we were just running away from a giant blue monster." Whispering in your direction, with her hands on her hips, Olivia turns to you and starts to smile. "I don't know if it's the coffee I spilled earlier or something else. But! my pants are wet."

Fucking idiot.

And so ends Chapter One, a long journey characterized by too many thoughts and too much panic for the Smilling Critters and Olivia who is now along for the ride!

But that's only one of four, which means there's a lot to come. A slow redemption, slow relationships that build, many encounters with experiments that plague your past and maybe finally learning to empathize.

Maybe this Journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about unbecoming everything that isn't really you.

Notes:

Wow, after the chase scene they all take a break together, quite unexpected. I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who helped me get to 260 kudos! Many thanks to all of you! It really means a lot to me to see that people are reading my stories. The next update will be for my Arcane fanfiction again, then for the Rat story. After all, time is ticking there, and I think it will be the first of my stories to end. Thank you all for reading, leave kudos and comments!

2 notes · View notes

clownsuu · 2 years ago

Note

what do you think of Howdy turning into a butterfly? I saw some fan art and thought it was an interesting idea lol

and i love your art! she is the first thing that appears when i wake up and open tumblr hehe

Funny Ngl LMAOO, I just feel like him turning into a butterfly would just make him more colorful and fruity- but I like the idea that he’s not really able to grow into a butterfly either due to a birth defect or just him not really reaching that point yet

though I don’t have the same ideas for emo Howdy-

cw a singular bug photo/heavy religious referencing/decently dark topic

Heavily based off of the Haploa clymene (Clymene moth), bein very fluffy yet unable to eat or speak anymore- he knows his fate and has tried every single season to resist pupating (and has successfully done so numerous times), however every year it gets harder and harder, becoming extremely mentally and physically taxing to his body. He knows he won’t be able to die from starvation due to being a puppet, but he still STAY starved and mute for the rest of his time if he transforms into a moth- so he tries his best to keep his glory days as a caterpillar, til one day he’s far too exhausted and tired to resist anymore and accept his fate. Also where tf did he get that outfit JDHFHHDDJ-

very much attracted to the light, if not careful, he could just randomly disappear one day trying to chase a light-

#Welcome home #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #too lazy to tag the others JCHFGDH #Edgy howdy edgy howdy #M �� f f #Also glad ya like my art gamer! JDHCHCDH I try my best to post when ever I got dumb ideas in the brain

3K notes · View notes

miasmatik · 1 year ago

Text

Sins of the Mother 🩸

Pose referenced from Ugolino and His Sons, one of my favorite sculptures based on a story from Dante’s Inferno about a father who dooms his children to eternal starvation. Felt very House Dimitrescu ~ links

#mine #re8 #re8 village #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu sisters #horror art #horror #illustration #artists on tumblr #resident evil

982 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 4 months ago

Text

In the mood for...

Sep 23rd

~*~

1. Hi! This is for ITMF. Is there a fic where WWX's friends and family throw children to him either to cheer him up/to calm him/to make him stay put? Its okay if its just mentioned once. Please dont make the children as hostages. Thanks

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) The Wen throw A-Yuan a few times so he can keep still & recover from injuries

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) people use A-Yuan to make WWX calm down when he's struggling with his temper post-war

Go Hiking With a Blindfold On by Hauntcats (Not Rated, 12k, WangXian, WWX & JC, WWX & WQ, Not JC Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, No Golden Core Transfer, Canon JC Characteristics)

we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club) chapter 7 onward

leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 143k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you’ve met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation) Wwx is homeless and crashing with wq and wn and about to bolt again when wen popo puts a crying a-yuan in his arms so she can cook. Wwx tells this to lwj about his past and how he came to be a parent in a sort of queer platonic arrangement with the wens! Love this fic ive reread it so many times 🤩

~*~

2. hello! Are there any junior quartet shenanigan fics? I want a fic where they are the main or secondary focus :))

matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match by mowochi (T, 21k, LJY & LSZ & OYZZ & JL, JC/NHS, post-canon, outsider pov, canon compliant, matchmaking, fluff, junior quartet dynamics, family bonding, JL pov, getting together)

Lan Sizhui’s Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (T, 22k, ZhuiYi, WangXian, Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Courtship, Misunderstandings, Aged-Up Character(s), Post-Canon, Ensemble Cast, 5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Confessions, Junior Quartet, Fluff)

Trust by FlyingMachine1 (G, 8k, WWX & the Junior Ensemble, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, background wangxian, BAMF!WWX, Humor)

🔒 best friends forever by varnes (T, 16k, WangXian, JL/LJY, JC & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Yungmeng Sibling Reconciliation, Juniors shenanigans)

Onomastic Exercise With The Juniors by ssuibian (G, 1k, Humor, Underage Drinking, (but no one gets drunk), JC has had enough, lots of teasing, Junior Quartet Dynamics, The Juniors are OT4, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian available)

🔒 For Great Justice by aubreyli (G, 8k, WangXian, Humor, Teenage Rebellion, Social Justice, Vigilantism, JL is ancient Chinese Zorro, WWX is everyone's favourite qianbei, The ducklings create the Justice League, OYZZ will probably take over the world one day, Friendship, There should be more fics about friendship, Post-Canon, Podfic Available)

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)

🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst, [Podfic] kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona))

House Named Whatever by liverbiver9 (T, 17k, LJY & WWX, WangXian, ZhuiYi, Modern AU, Modern with Magic, Trans WWX, Found Family, POV LJY, Hurt/Comfort, mild body horror, suibian as a house, Magical Realism, Fairy Tale Curses, Cursed WWX, Smitten LWJ, Lesbian WQ, Trans WN, witch wq, Witch WWX, Fierce Corpse WN, Bad Parent YZY)

🔒 how to make your dad fall in love with your high school teacher in five steps; the complete and bulletproof guide by ravenditefairylights (T, 90k, wangxian, modern, coffee shop au, nonbinary LSZ, hurt/comfort, trauma, past abuse, past domestic violence, healing, hurt WWX, found family, hospitalization, therapy, single parent WWX, pining, teacher LWJ, unreliable narrator, chronic pain, queer platonic relationship, genderfluid WWX, autistic LWJ, fluff & angst)

Lan Jingyi and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Road Trip by scribblemetimbers (T, 26k, Junior Ensemble & LWJ, WWX & Junior Ensemble, Magic, Creatures & Monsters, Demonic Cultivation, Modern, Action/Adventure, Hijinks & Shenanigans, YLLZ RIGHTS, The Junior Ensemble Love WWX, Identity Reveal, Secret Identity, but only bcoz in any universe ever these kids r always gonna look at wwx and go'wow he's shaped like a dad', and imprint accordingly, Pre-Relationship, for wangxian specifically bcoz listen, if ur life's work is RIGHT THERE and he's like ur soulmate, why would u NOT be with him?? Yes?? Yes)

~*~

3. Hello I was wondering if you could make a comp of WWX becoming a god? Like after the siege he becomes one.

🔒💖 Calling Heaven by mondengel (Not Rated, 2k, WangXian, God AU)

In the end by apathyinreverie (T, 4k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WN, Canon Divergence, God WWX, WWX ascends, the cultivation world hates it, but they don’t get a say, LWJ is done with the cultivation world, cultivation sect critical)

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WQ & WN, WN & MXY & WQ, WQ & WWX & WN, Eventual WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn’t kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ)

🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence)

💖 Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa (E, 19k, WangXian, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, tgcf fusion, Gods & Goddesses, Ghosts, Romance, vengeance, Dark LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

4. for the next itmf: looking for some canonverse, post-canon established relationship wangxian porn without plot. ideally less than 15k, nothing going on except them filthy fucking <3 no mpreg though pls

~*~

5. Hey can you recommend some good and angst with happy ending type of nielan works but not modern please.

~*~

6. Hello ! I am looking for fics where Lan Xichen travels back in time, thank you for everything you do! @ayellenne

To Fix Your Twisted Reflection by Dgcakes (ficsnfun) (M, 167k, 3zun, time travel fix-it, slow burn, trust, healthy relationships, or at least trying) 3zun time travels

🔒💖 The blame game by apathyinreverie (T, 13k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, LXC & WWX, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, possessive LWJ, oblivious WWX, fluff, siblings, romance, golden core reveal, golden core fix-it)

Intriguing by nirejseki (G, 6k, JGY/NMJ, NHS/LXC, Matchmaking, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Crack, a look inside NHS's brain, oblique reference to ADHD)

🔒💖 Drag Me Into Your Coffin (I Will Drag Your Sins Into the Light) by the5leggedCricket (G, 2k, canon divergence, temporary character death, time travel fix-it, BAMF LXC)

🔒💖 Alternative Choices by StarClearWaters (Readoutloud) (T, 20k, wangxian, time travel, butterfly effect, LXC pov, protective LXC, temporary character death, mpreg, panic attacks)

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) link in #1 this is similar. WWX is the one to actually travel in time, but LXC uses something similar to empathy to share his memories so he also has experienced the original timeline

3Zun Fixit AU Series by Eleanor_Fenyx (E, 132k, 3Zun, Angst with a happy ending, Time Travel, Established Relationship, Hurt/comfort, Fluff) is one where LXC isn't actually the time traveler but has him waking up in the altered timeline (at an earlier point) with all his previous memories intact so it's similar-ish?

Melody of the Lost and Found by esama (T, 48k, WIP, XiXian, WangXian, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, YLLZ WWX, There are two WWXs in this) has both LXC and WWX time traveling to the Gusu lectures

~*~

7. ITMF: WQ and JYL bullied WWX so he can take care of himself better. If you can, where WQ and JYL worked together or they are friend (i just want WWX has his older sisters together where they are not enemy or jealous of each other, please). It doesnt have to be the focus of the story. Thanks

A Bell That Tells Us to Rise and Fight by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (T, 120k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, SongXiao, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Everyone Needs A Hug, Women Being Awesome, BAMF Women, Minor Character Death)

~*~

8. Hey, I'm looking for fics where it's pointed out that just because Wei Ying is smiling at someone and laughing with them and talking sweetly and complimenting them, doesn't mean he's flirting with them and trying to send signals.

Not trying to rant but I'm fed up of lan zhan accusing him of leading on people and madam yu and Jiang Cheng's opinion doesn't help.

I just need someone to point out how wrong it is.... @constellationdks

~*~

9. wangxian fix where Wei wing is a omega and lan zhan is the emperor and it’s a omega verse and af the end lanzhan turned dark @you-saidwhat

~*~

10. Hello! Thank you for all your work! I’m ITMF some cute kid fics!! I read The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane and I loved it so much, I need more!!

🔒 so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it’s about the yearning, slowburn, some characters have a pretty strong bias against folks with drug addiction, (this does not reflect the author’s opinion of people with addiction disorders!), none of the really grim abuse/drug use affects our main characters, and it takes place offscreen)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, WangXian, Modern AU, single dad lwj, Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let lwj have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

my little love by mellowflicker (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, kindergarten teacher LWJ, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Pining)

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i’m the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)

Accidental Uncle Acquisition series by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 13k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff, Podfic Available, Kid Fic, Soft WangXian, Matchmaking, Humor, shark week)

🔒 Lost Boys by raitala (E, 115k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, Modern, Kid Fic, Gen or Pre-Slash, hints of wangxian, finding your found family, A-Yuan is a sweetie, Emotional Baggage, LWJ is on the Asexuality Spectrum, Neurodivergent LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, sugar daddy LWJ, LSZ is the bestest boi, LWJ is trying his best, WWX needs a hug, background societal homophobia, Grief/Mourning, Under-negotiated Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Mild Painplay, Sharing a Bed, Family Feels, Nice LQR, Adoption, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Spit Kink, Slow Burn)

🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending) link in #12

🧡 Yiling Salon: Hair, Nails and Piercing by TriviasFolly (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hairstylist AU, Hairstylist WWX, 5+1 Things, Fluff, Experimental style)

🧡 your heart, two doors down by ghostsgf (G, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pining, Parenting)

~*~

11. Hii, itmf fics, definitely Canon but with additional powers other than cultivation, like elemental control and such , ( bonus if its just wwx or lwj that achieve these things) thx!

~*~

12. Hi! I don’t really know how this asking thing works but I really liked paint smears on sunny days and was wondering if you could recommend fics with similar premise or vibe? Also thank you for your hardwork in general.

我爱你 Collection of the_marathon_continues, multiple bookmarks

three stories from trippednfell have a similar vibe (but tend to have more angst than Paint Smears): 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

Ornaments Under the Stars by trippednfell (M, 62k, wangxian, Modern, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, the wangxian Hallmark Movie AU no one asked for, plot and title were randomly generated, Kidfic, Disabled Character, debilitating injury as substitute for missing golden core, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Guest starring Lan Zhan’s sky blue coat, The Coat deserves its own tag, disordered eating habits - not a major plot point, WIP)

~*~

13. Are there anymore fics out there like By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller? Fics with the premise that WWX is in MXY’s body and sort of side steps the plot? Thank y’all for all your hard work!!

~*~

14. Hiiiii, thank you for the help. I have a few different ITMF if that’s ok. A) fics about reborn WWX getting his old face and body back. It can be sudden or slowly. B) abusive Madam Yu fics where WWX is abused. C) fics where WWX has severe injuries or chronic pain from burial mounds or the war. @plzloveme

14A)

Saw My Life in a Stranger’s Face by timetoboldlygo (T, 27k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, wwx’s face changes post-canon to look like his original face, Slight Panic Attack, because lwj doesn’t recognize his husband, the mortifying ordeal of not knowing your own body, the terrifying inevitability of change, taller!wwx theory)

14B)

so i cut the shackles and changed my name by MichelleFeather (T, 30k, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, LQR & CSSR, LQR & WWX, CSSR/WCZ, WWX & The Lan Clan, WIP, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, WWX is a Lan, Good Uncle LQR, Supportive LQR, Protective LQR, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, JFM & YZY Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, Abusive Jiang Family, Running Away, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Genius WWX, No Sunshot Campaign, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cultivation Sect Politics, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Canon Divergence, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, WRH isn’t a power hungry tyrant, mostly)

Scars of Lightning by The_peregrine_falcon (T, 6k, YZY & WWX, WWX & WRH, WangXian, YZY’s A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Wen WWX, zidian, YZY is a bitch, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Heavy Angst, Lotus Pier, Nightless City, Young WWX, Muteness, Hurt kind of comfort)

🔒💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)

🔒🧡 Company by WithBroomBefore (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, POV LWJ, Fix-It, Pre-Canon, at least to start, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, But Not In The Usual Way, fear of character death, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, good teacher LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, brief discussion of past minor character suicide, Kitten, Not YZY Friendly)

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 60k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death, Depression, Psychological Trauma, Justice, Fear, Angst, No War AU, Attempted Murder, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LXC, Podfic Available, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Romantic Gestures, Recovery, POV LWJ, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad)

A Star Fell by CordialCoroner (CordialCrow) (M, 76k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, POV Multiple, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Not JC Friendly, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Slow Burn, Sunshot Campaign, WWX becomes a medic, Mutual Pining)

🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 179k, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX, caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

in case you ever foolishly forget by RavenclawLoki (E, 19k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Engagement, fast burn, Fluff, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Bad Person YZY, YZY Bashing, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, LWJ & WWX are decent at communicating hense the fast burn, Good Uncle LQR, Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Established Relationship, BAMF JYL, she has given up on defending bad parents and we simply must support her, it's yanli's world we are just living in it, Demisexuality, Asexuality, Sex Positive Asexuality, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Soft WangXian, Implied Switching, LWJ shows love by slow blinking, Loss of Virginity, First Time, gonna add Out of Character tag to be safe regarding YL)

14C)

🔒 How to Treat Your Injured Yiling Laozu by merakily (T, 3k, wangxian, Chronic Pain, Whump, Love Confessions, Literal Sleeping Together, Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ has a lot of feelings about WWX being in pain, Hurt WWX)

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 96k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) link in #1

Rest and Care series by meyari (T, 62k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, very little hurt, lots of comfort, Chronic Illness, Serious Injuries, Self-Medication, Disability, PTSD, Depression, Self-Worth Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aftermath of war, Aftermath of Violence, Prisoner of War, Identity Issues, Warning: JGS enslavement (discussion of), abuse (discussion of), actually very fluffy, despite the warnings, Fluff and Crack, dubious academic writing, Historical Research, Modern Era, Good YZY, Good Person SS, Reincarnation)

Smoke and Mirrors by mrcformoso (T, 5k, wangxian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, WWX Has Chronic Pain, WWX Has Issues, WWX has Phantom Pain, WWX was Malnourished, Sad LWJ, POV WWX, WWX is always cold, Chronic Pain, Phantom pain, migraines, Malounirshment, Suicidal WWX, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, mirror therapy, Minor Original Character(s), Good Friend NHS, Protective LWJ, Regretful LWJ, Crying, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, WWX’s body is normal but he still feels as if it isnt, Made up Nie Clan lore)

Elder, an Aesthetic by MarbleGlove (G, 8k, JC & WWX, Fix-It, Post-Sunshot Campaign)

~*~

15. I have been into serial killer Wangxian fics recently but I can’t find many so I was wondering if you had any @wrappedaroundxielian

~*~

16. Hi, I'd like some recommendations for fics that have the juniors meet teenage wangxian! Whether it's time-travel or wangxian reverting to their teenage forms, it's all good- so long as it's NOT a fix-it! Just plain 'ol fluff, please. @a-fire-that-isnt-burning

Time Travel, Obviously by nirejseki (Not Rated, 1k, Time Travel, Crack) the Juniors only meet Wei Ying in this one

~*~

17. Hello! For itmf could you help me find any fic (au or canon) that focuses at least somewhat on lwj realising he is in love?

Like at first he finds wwx annoying but quickly notices he is attractive. Then he notices that wwx is annoying hot and charming. THEN he notices that he is annoying, hot, charming and brillant. And when he finds out wwx is also KIND on top of all of this he is like fuck i am in love and not just weirdly attracted to this other dude!

Thank you!

🔒in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric)

soften you by Solarlwj ( M, 14k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Touch-Starved LWJ, Mutual Pining, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Friends to Lovers)

🔒Tangible by apathyinreverie (T, 2k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, Possessive LWJ, First Kiss, Getting Together, the library scene)

Three changes. by orange_crushed (M, 18k, wangxian, fluff, hijinks & shenanigans, cloud recesses shenanigans, no war au, everyone lives au, romantic comedy, fade to black, friends to lovers, falling in love, harm to animals, non-graphic violence, sparring, developing friendships, hurt/comfort, first time)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

170 notes · View notes