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thegeniusofplaytimeco · 14 days ago

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Chapter 16: Severed Ties

Summary:

With Mommy Long Legs hot on your heels, you have no choice - you and Olivia have to go. The plan is simple: get the train codes from the games and get out. But it was already clear that not everything would go according to plan. At the same time, Y/N's character development begins to emerge more and more clearly - not only through Olivia's view of the world, but also through the influences of the Smiling Critters.

Notes:

No, I haven't played Chapter 4 yet, but I'm planning to in the next few days. However, I've been told that it's not as good as Chapter 3. What do you think?

"Do you think it was a good idea to leave the children alone in the Game Station?"

Just now, as you and Olivia are making your way to Musical Memory, where for a moment there was finally silence - of course she has to say something again.

Three things about this statement bother you immediately.

First the word "children". Your opinion of the Smiling Critters has long been clear - and was expressed unequivocally exactly 42 minutes ago:

"The Smiling Critters are children's corpses ported over in fabric covers. Don't you get it, you fucking idiot?"

The Smiling Critters are not children. They might have been once, but that's over. The fact that Olivia still calls them that, as if they still were, as if they were somehow your children, leaves an unpleasant aftertaste. An absurd thought that you would like to forget immediately.

Secondly, the fact that she questions your decision. A good idea can only come from someone like you - someone who has already planned everything out, who doesn't make mistakes. Who does she think she is? An employee? One of those stupid puppets from Playtime Co. who keep making the same catastrophic mistakes? No. You're the genius here. You're the one in control.

Thirdly: "alone".

It doesn't make you angry - anger is an emotion for stupid people. But it annoys you. The Smiling Critters are a dead case. Even if you had stayed, it wouldn't have changed anything. They can't save themselves - and they don't deserve to.

Only you are different.

You can master every possible situation with flying colors.

Only you.

But Olivia - just like the others - is stupid. They need someone to guide them.

Because there is a reason for this saying:

If you want something done right, do it yourself.

"Can't you finally shut your mouth." Your voice cuts sharply through the silence.

Olivia raises her eyebrows, but instead of pouting or retreating, she grins mockingly.

"I get the idea. People like you scientists..." She makes a vague hand gesture. "Don't talk to women much, do you? Makes even you nervous, I guess."

I'll kill them.

You walk on through the labyrinthine concrete paths, tunnels and rusty metal bridges. The path is not complicated - for you. Olivia sometimes stumbles over loose cables or thinks too long before taking a turn.

Your rucksack occasionally jolts. Fully packed. Every movement reminds you of its weight.

You count through the contents in your head:

Medicine.

Food.

Tools.

Pistol.

Everything in its place.

And then you are there.

There are buttons and two screens in front of and behind the platform. An observation platform towers above you. Cables and pipes wind along the ceiling - and right in the middle, connected to a metal plate, hangs Bunzo Bunny.

The space for the green hand was superfluous. You already had it with you and are now putting it on.

You step onto the platform and cross the small metal bridge - which immediately retracts behind you as soon as you touch the ground.

"I really don't have a good feeling here." Olivia moves closer. "And you're quite sure she's going to give us the code?"

You don't answer. Your eyes remain fixed on the screens.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, you know..." Olivia crosses her arms. "You could at least pretend that me and the Smiling Critters aren't scum."

No answer.

She narrows her eyes, grabs you by the coat, takes a deep breath - just about to shout at you.

Then -

The screens light up.

"Welcome to Musical Memory! This advanced memory and cognitive recognition test is designed to stimulate several segments of the brain, allowing us to see how quickly and efficiently your brain works."

Everything exactly as it was back then. The same rules. The same mechanisms. A test for the orphans and employees. A game with a predictable outcome.

"The guy who's talking..." Olivia leans closer, her voice hesitant. "Is that-?"

"Yes." That's all you need to say. She understands.

"A sequence of colors will be shown, and you must recreate the exact sequence using the buttons around you. Bunzo will slowly lower towards you. When you complete a color pattern correctly, Bunzo will rise back up. When you input a pattern incorrectly, Bunzo will lower towards you faster. If Bunzo reaches you, your test is over."

If Bunzo reaches us, I'll just shoot him in the head.

You raise your eyes. He's hanging up there. Bunzo Bunny.

It looks... different than you remember it. Maybe damaged. Perhaps modified. The prototype probably didn't spare him either.

"The test will become more difficult as it continues, with longer patterns in quicker succession. That's all. Good luck!"

It doesn't matter what happens in the fifth round. It's just a distraction. We have to press the shutdown button. After that, she's guaranteed to give us the code.

"I hope your brain is working properly, Y/N." Olivia sighs, stretches, cracks her joints. "I'm really not good at mind games like this..."

Nobody thought so either.

"And besides, you have to keep turning around here, it makes me sick..."

You wouldn't make it anyway.

"I once heard that this is supposed to be really hard..."

Now shut the fuck up.

"Oh, isn't it amazing?"

Olivia flinches, startled.

You just slowly turn your head up towards the window.

Mommy Long Legs.

She leans forward slightly, watching you with a mixture of joy and malice.

"Mommy hasn't seen the place up and running in years! Mommy can only imagine how excited Bunzo must be."

"Damn it! Where did that come from?" Olivia instinctively backs away.

"Stay calm." You're not saying it to calm her down. Just to prevent her from doing something stupid - as usual.

Your eyes meet.

Her eyes are tense, a nervous flicker behind them. Yours? Empty. Emotionless.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Fine pink spots appear on her cheeks.

You turn away.

Bunzo above you bangs his cymbals together three times.

"Oh! That's the dinner bell! Good luck."

And so the game begins immediately.

Colored buttons appear in front of you, while the colors flash on the large screen. You react instantly. Precisely. Mechanically.

You hit the right buttons at lightning speed - so fast that Olivia can barely follow with her eyes.

You barely move, turning only minimally, while your hands work in perfect synchronicity with the commands. Using simple probability calculations, you predict which color will appear next. And you're right. Always.

The first laps pass in seconds. One. Two. Three. Four.

And then comes the fifth.

From here on, the game is impossible for a normal person.

But you are not a normal person.

As the patterns intensify and the speed increases, you calculate the next sequences in milliseconds. Your fingers hit the right buttons before your mind is even consciously aware of them.

And with a little trick, you can eliminate the time loss of the GrabPack: instead of letting the arms retract completely, you fire the second arm at the moment of retraction. Perfect efficiency. Not one movement too many.

"Dude! How do you do that?!" Olivia gasps beside you.

You ignore them.

It is unnecessary. Just like the Smiling Critters.

And yet...

In the midst of the stream of hundreds of colors, numbers and shapes, in the midst of absolute calculation, a single, disturbing thought creeps into your head:

Do I owe them anything at all?

From a logical point of view? No.

The Smiling Critters were just kids who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were unlucky enough to be under your scalpel. Unlucky that your genius turned them into monsters within an hour.

They could have been born anywhere in the world.

159 generally recognized sovereign states. This gives a probability of 99.19% that they would not have ended up here.

99.19 % against them.

You owe them nothing.

But...

Why does your stomach still feel so strange when you think about them?

Kickin's stupid grin. DogDay's silly smile. CatNap's calm look. Crafty's nervous hands. Pinky's resounding laugh. Bobby's curious eyes. Bubba's intelligence. Hoppy's unwavering determination.

So much more human than you.

And yet you are the one who has supposedly taken away their humanity.

The game gets faster. Relentless. Inhumanly fast.

Any orphan, any Playtime Co. employee who was in the wrong place at the wrong time would have lost long ago at this point.

The orphans would have survived. Of course they would. They were valuable raw materials.

Sooner or later they would have ended up on your operating table anyway.

For one employee, however... this would have meant the end.

Bunzo would have fallen down, torn him to pieces, pressed him between his teeth - and from that moment on, he would have been nothing more than a memory. A name on a file that would disappear into a dusty archive.

But you see him.

The button.

Black and yellow. A triangle with an exclamation mark in the middle.

"Fuck, what's happening?" Olivia screams and clings to you.

If you weren't busy aiming for the shutdown button, you would have pushed them away.

Targets.

Meetings.

Press.

The entire game stops abruptly.

Silence.

"Oh... it broke. That's no fun."

Mommy Long Legs watches you from above, her voice sings sweetly, but you know the poison behind it.

"For doing such a splendid job, Mommy has decided to give you both... part of the code for the train. Look up."

You both raise your eyes.

There, sticking out of the darkness of the observation room, is her pink plastic hand. Between her spread fingers is a small, folded piece of paper.

"Someone has weird fantasies about that." Olivia grins, despite her racing heart. "A kink loose." She nudges you playfully. "Come on! Take this thing and let's get out of here."

You ignore them. And you stretch out your arm.

The GrabPack whizzes through the air, grabs the paper and pulls it back towards you.

A quick glance.

One of three codes. Still far from complete.

Upstairs in the Observation Room, Mommy Long Legs takes a step back and sinks into the darkness.

"And now we'd best go very quickly."

You don't hear them. Because you've known for a long time that this is far from over.

The bridge that is supposed to lead us back to the exit is about to collapse.

This is not a technical defect. It is not a coincidence.

It was programmed into the system.

And if Mommy Long Legs has really recognized you - which she has - then she won't let you reach even the second game.

But if you tell Olivia that now, she'll panic. And panic costs time.

Time you can't waste.

So you say nothing.

You take quick steps towards the bridge, Olivia following close behind you.

"That was just really cool! Man, you fucking rocked that!" She laughs, a nervous, excited laugh. "The way you shot that long - phew! Phew! And not a second wasted."

You don't answer.

Your gaze remains fixed on the bridge.

Three more steps.

Two.

One.

Then she collapses.

Olivia opens her mouth, ready to scream - but before a sound can escape, you both land on the floor.

You are standing, as expected.

Five, maybe six meters drop height. A piece of cake.

Olivia, however, falls, flails her arms wildly, bounces roughly and then looks at you, panting. For a moment, she seems to check herself to see if everything is still in place - then she hastily straightens up.

"Phew... not so bad after all."

Does she always have to comment?

You're not wasting any time.

Your gaze glides through the darkness and you easily spot the dull red light. Beneath it: the entrance to a ventilation shaft.

With one shot of your GrabPack, you tear open the lid.

Just as you are about to push yourself into the opening, you hear Olivia behind you.

"I'm not going first! Not a chance!" She glares at you defiantly. "You do want to look at my ass, don't you?"

You pause.

It's not the first time she's made a remark along these lines. But Olivia... Olivia doesn't sound embarrassed or seriously belligerent - more like she's trying to provoke you.

And at that moment you feel something.

Not frustration. Not anger. Something deeper, darker.

The urgent desire to simply reach into your backpack, pull out the gun and paint the wall behind it red with three quick shots.

It would be easy.

It's that simple.

But you don't do it.

Instead, you crawl silently into the ventilation shaft, the blueprint of the factory clear in your mind's eye.

Every now and then your rucksack hits the ceiling.

"Really stuffy in here..." Olivia.

That's enough.

You stop. You turn around with a jerk.

And Olivia, who was just crawling behind you, emits a questionable noise.

You open your mouth.

The words are already formed.

Every single insult, every detailed description of her uselessness, her stupidity, and the simple fact that a few seconds ago you were seriously thinking of killing her.

You want to say it. No, you will say it.

The first syllable is already rolling over your tongue - sharp as a blade, ready to cut deep.

And then...

I'm still negative. I want to get up to zero.

Your own words.

An echo from the past.

Olivia looks at you. Full of expectation. Unsuspecting.

And you... say nothing.

Why?

It is not compassion.

It can't be.

Not with you.

Not here.

Not now, when you were just about to stomp them into the ground.

But something inside you is stopping you.

Something unknown. Something foreign.

A fragment of something you thought was long dead.

You breathe in. Then exhale.

"Move." Your voice is toneless, cutting. But the insults remain unspoken.

Olivia draws her eyebrows together, visibly confused - but she follows.

The crawl through the vent continues.

Step by step.

Silent.

Until you finally land.

In the Rejected Room.

As the name suggests - a warehouse for failed experiments and stranded ideas.

You glance around the room.

Everything looks exactly the same as it used to: a run-down, chaotic department store, crammed with shelves piled high with rejected toys. Creations that Playtime Co.'s management deemed too scary, too faulty or simply too stupid to ever bring to market.

You were only here once - because some incompetent idiot couldn't get the stock management right - but nothing has changed.

It smells of dust. Of decay. Of oblivion.

While you operate the crane to hoist Bron off his small platform and clear your path to the next area, Olivia strolls through the rows.

"No wonder some of these toys were never licensed!" She shakes herself. "They'd give me nightmares rather than fun!"

You don't answer.

The crane's mechanism whirs quietly as you charge the green hand with energy. The puzzle is already solved before Olivia even realizes that you are doing anything.

Then:

"Oh man! I need to go to the loo!" Olivia. "Is there a toilet around here somewhere? I'd rather not do it in your presence!"

You pause.

How can someone talk so much?

A single glance from you is enough.

Without a word, you turn around and jump onto the newly freed platform. It leads through narrow concrete pipes, deep inside the factory - back to the Game Station.

Olivia looks at you. Full of expectation. Silly.

"Okay, okay, I'll hurry!"

She disappears for barely a minute. Maybe two.

Then - hasty steps.

She runs back.

"Wow, I had to go really bad! But the fact that there are no toilets down here..."

You don't listen.

A quick glance at her, then you move on.

Back through the cold concrete corridors.

Past steaming pipes.

A few seconds of running.

Up a flight of stairs.

Pushing open a blocked door - a chair was behind it.

Then you're back.

Game Station.

The grand staircase.

Olivia stops a few steps behind you.

"Shall we go up together?"

You turn to her. She has a nervous smile on her face - probably because she knows she'll be meeting the Smiling Critters again in less than ten seconds.

You look at her briefly.

"I don't care."

Then you turn around and climb the stairs.

And then -

An odor.

Cocoa.

Fresh. Warm.

That doesn't fit here.

"Just hurry up."

"Oh, you're already talking more than you were at the beginning..." Olivia. You can't see her, but you can picture her grinning face. "That's a real step forward!"

You ignore them.

Step by step, you climb the last steps and enter the main platform of the Game Station.

And then you see them.

The Smiling Critters. They have breakfast.

In the middle of this godforsaken factory, on the platform in front of the train's control panel. Food is spread out on the floor. Plastic plates. Sandwiches. Cookies. A few thermos flasks.

One of them - Picky - is sitting there with her legs crossed, holding a kettle. A kettle from your home.

You blink.

Why...? Do you think you're saving the information for later?

Picky pours himself a cup of hot water and then stirs in a powder.

Cocoa.

Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"Tell me... do you really make cocoa with water?" She shakes herself. "Who does it like that? You drink cocoa with warm milk!"

The critters look at each other.

"Milk is hard to come by." Bubba. "So, water. "

Olivia sighs. "Poor you."

She takes a cup from them without being asked and also pours herself some cocoa. Then she sits down - just like that.

As if all this were completely normal.

You watch and as you stand still, Olivia sits down with the critters and starts to eat breakfast with them.

Despite time pressure. Despite everything.

Is she completely disabled?

Is she seriously going to have breakfast now?

A few minutes ago, during Musical Memory, she was still screaming as if it was her last breath. She was scared to death. And now? Now she's sitting there, stuffing bread in her mouth and acting like this is a fucking picnic.

You are angry. Suppressed, of course, as always, but the sight in front of you...

Olivia. The Smiling Critters.

The way they all sit there, handing each other food, talking as if nothing is wrong.

Even in a situation like this - where you are being hunted by experiments that would swallow you alive - they take their time.

Not for escape. Not for panic. Not for calculations or strategies.

For each other.

"Can you pass me the sausage?"

"Only if you give me the butter first!"

Smile.

They are all smiling.

Although they should know best.

The Smiling Critters - themselves experiments, themselves victims of this factory. Olivia - someone who has worked here, who should know what these walls hide.

So why? Why are they laughing? Why are they so happy? Just under an hour and a half ago, we fled from Huggy. From a monster that would have eaten us all alive.

And now they're sitting here. And laughing.

You watch them.

One step closer.

Olivia shoves a piece of bread into her mouth, drinks and talks at the same time.

DogDay and Bubba are the first to notice you. Then - slowly - Olivia.

She lifts her head, still chewing, and looks at you questioningly.

"What?" she mumbles with her mouth full. "Come on, I'm hungry! And thirsty! Besides, we almost died earlier!"

I can't believe this is a grown woman.

"What happened?" asks Bobby. But Olivia ignores her for a moment.

"Oh come on, genius..." Olivia grins at you. "Even here at Playtime Co. we had lunch breaks!"

Silence.

For a moment, everything is dead quiet.

Then -

Kickin giggles. Picky follows and slowly - one by one - they all start to laugh.

And Olivia? Her too, of course.

With her stupid laugh, her stupid manner and that damn...

You just look at how they all laugh.

Even Hoppy. Even her, who had that cold look on her face the whole time - and rightly so.

And then...

Do you feel it. For a moment. For a very brief moment.

It feels like shortness of breath. A pressure in your chest, a pulling in your stomach, as if air is suddenly escaping.

And then you really notice it.

You smile. Not much, but you do.

A small, almost uncertain smile. A nervous one.

Because it's new to you. Because you can't explain it to yourself.

It was a bad joke from Olivia.

From the person who annoys you the most. Who is always talking. Who always interferes.

And yet... somehow...

You smile.

You want to hide it.

Do something so that nobody sees it.

It feels wrong. Foreign. An unfamiliar feeling - and you hate unfamiliar things.

Maybe that was the reason why you wanted to become a doctor. Why you became a scientist.

Everything must be understandable. Controllable.

But this?

That's not it.

"Holy shit..." Olivia stares at you with wide eyes. "You're smiling!"

All the critters fall silent.

Her eyes follow hers.

Follow to you.

You stand there for a split second. Caught.

But your face immediately returns to its usual stoic, expressionless form.

"You imagined that."

Olivia raises a brow. "Ohhh no. Definitely not."

And then - of course - she starts talking.

"This is a real breakthrough! I knew it! There's a real heart behind that cold, emotionless facade! Oh my God, what's next? Will you maybe even say 'please' and 'thank you'? Will you show us your cuddly toy collection?"

You take a deep breath.

"Olivia." Your voice is cutting, razor-sharp. "Hold it. Your. Shut. up."

Of course she doesn't keep her mouth shut.

"Oh, come on, I need to enjoy this!" She leans closer with a grin. "Do you often smile secretly when no one's looking? Have you ever laughed? How does it feel? Did it hurt? Do you need a hug?"

You can feel your brain dying.

Every single second she keeps talking is a blow to your patience.

And the worst thing about it?

It takes time.

You are wasting time.

The clock is ticking.

Mommy Long Legs could reappear at any moment.

The prototype could be watching you by now.

The Game Station is just a playground for death.

And they sit here and talk about your damn smile.

The critters have long since become engrossed in another conversation that you are ignoring.

Playcare.

They speculate about what it looks like there. What is probably left of this place.

You don't care.

It doesn't matter.

You're just waiting for Olivia to finally stop stuffing her face with bread and drinking cocoa.

At last.

After what feels like an eternity, she puts her cup down, stretches exaggeratedly and grins.

"Okay, okay, I'm ready! Let's get going, boss!"

You turn away and start moving.

But then -

"Wait!"

Bubba.

He jumps up and takes a step closer.

"I want to go."

You pause.

Look at him.

A single sentence is on the tip of your tongue. A cold, rational answer.

"No. You're just getting in our way."

But you don't say it.

You would have said it. Just an hour ago.

But now -

Now it remains unspoken.

And before you can even formulate an answer, Olivia takes over.

"We both know our way around here best, Bubba." She puts a hand on his shoulder. "And there's no time to lose."

Bubba hesitates, but then sighs and nods slowly.

You don't say anything.

But two things stick in your head.

The first:

She said "both".

Not "me". Not "you're bothering me".

Us. She described you and herself as a team.

The second: You didn't insult Bubba.

Not because you forgot. But because you simply didn't do it.

Without a reason. Without an explanation. And it's as if something is shifting inside you.

Not much, but something. Something human.

And so you start moving again.

Next destination: Wack-a-Wuggy.

The second test for the train code.

"Don't take offense from just now..."

You turn your head slightly to the side.

Olivia.

For the first time without her usual grin. Her gaze is more serious - not entirely serious, but more serious.

"I know it must be hard for you too."

Heavy? For you?

Interesting.

"I've worked here too, I've heard the rumors... and also things they've said about you."

Rumors.

There are many about you. You know that.

The scientist who worked with the doctor.

The man who knows everything.

The genius who has no emotions.

But this time you listen more carefully.

For the first time, the conversation doesn't seem completely meaningless.

"I would never have expected someone who worked with the Doctor to keep the critters safe. "** Olivia takes a deep breath.

Understanding.

Your voice has understanding.

A strange concept.

"I understand that you want to improve, honestly!" She gets louder as you walk down the stairs to the next game. "But..."

"Sometimes you don't even need to move on. You just need to not go back."

You unconsciously hold your breath.

These words - they hit the mark.

Not like a realization, but like something you've known for a long time but never wanted to accept.

Your mind stops for a moment.

It's true.

Maybe you don't have to try to become a better person. Maybe it's enough to stop being a bad person.

"You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore."

That's the second sentence. And again: truth.

Not rational. Not measurable. But somehow... right.

It feels like an algorithm that you've never calculated. Olivia looks at you. Expects a reaction.

But you are quiet. You just keep walking.

Wack-a-Wuggy awaits you.

The way to the second game is not nearly as long as the first. Just down the stairs of the Game Station.

Olivia stops for a moment, turns around and waves to the critters, while you continue on your way.

You are already planning.

She won't give us all three codes just like that. Never. With the third code at the latest, she'll get angry and probably hunt us down.

You descend further, into a large hall with a sandy floor and a faded mural of a building site on the walls - as if this place was once really meant for children.

And even if we have all three codes and free Poppy too, she won't let us go. Poppy needs us for something, probably to help against the prototype, she'll never let the train leave.

"Ready for game two, genius?"

Olivia grins - as always. Despite the situation. Despite everything.

"You've already carried the last game. Hopefully this time again."

You don't answer. But for the first time there is this urge to do it.

Then -

"The toys in this game used to have strings attached to them... so they could be pulled back... when they got too close to the children."

Mommy Long Legs. Her voice sounds from above. She is watching you from a dark observation room.

"Have fun."

"Do you think..." Olivia takes a more defensive stance, her shoulders tensing. "Do you think they took the thongs off?"

Wasn't that obvious?

Her tone said it all.

Then -

Noises.

From above. From the sides. Through the ventilation shafts.

You are here.

"Dude..." Olivia. Her voice flat. "So here we go..."

And then it starts.

And the moment it starts, it's already over for you.

The Huggy's are coming from every direction. But you are already expecting them. Your movements are precise and calculated. Every movement optimized. You aim, shoot, hit. Always.

One shot. One hit.

Olivia stands behind you, back to back. She shouts occasionally, calling out directions to you, but you don't need it. With your perfect vision and the constant, rapid turning of your head, you have long since captured everything.

Your speed, your attack pattern and your weaknesses.

They are predictable.

Apart from the specific children's weights, only children under forty kilos were ever used for the mini-huggies. In the event, one of their heads will weigh no more than six kilos, so a pistol shot to the head would be enough to knock one out.

The Huggy's emerge from the holes and fall back again just as quickly.

One after the other. Precisely. Efficiently.

You win.

Of course you do.

"Oh..."

You both look up. And there she is again.

Mommy Long Legs.

Her pink body hangs relaxed against the glass of the observation room, her voice dripping with false admiration.

"A win! Mommy is so proud of you two..."

Then - a change. A darker tone.

"Although I didn't expect anything different from you."

"Damn, I think she's got the hots for you!" Olivia grins at you, but you ignore her.

Mommy stretches out her endless arms, and from another ventilation shaft, barely visible in the semi-darkness, her hand appears.

Another piece of code.

"Perfect!" Olivia beams as you reach for the paper with your GrabPack and put it in your coat pocket. "That's just one more thing missing."

But then -

"I do wonder one thing though..."

You both freeze.

Normally it disappears immediately after the code is transferred.

But not this time.

Mommy stays.

Her tone is softer, but more dangerous.

"What's a rotten soul like you doing here?"

Your gaze remains neutral.

No reaction. No twitching.

She can't read your facial expression, nor can you see right through hers.

"You worked with Sawyer, and you're not ashamed to come back here?" Her voice becomes more menacing. "Even with the Smiling Critters?"

Olivia pulls a confused face.

Of course she doesn't understand anything.

Maybe, if you were to estimate generously, she could guess 2% of your knowledge. Probably less.

"I'd have to tear them to pieces in front of you..."

Mommy Long Legs continues to lean forward.

Her eyes sparkle with unspoken hatred.

"...just to show you a tiny part of our suffering."

Her fingers crunch as they clench into a fist.

"You and the prototype..."

"You're both the same."

And with these words, she disappears into the darkness.

The door back to the Game Station is blocked.

You have to take a detour.

Through narrow maintenance rooms, past old machines that haven't been running for years. At one point you even have to pull yourself up on a metal pole - because the stairs are destroyed.

You don't mind Olivia clinging to your side as you pull you both up with the GrabPack.

It would have been a moment in the past when you would have instinctively pushed her away.

Now?

You register it, but you don't react.

The road is long.

Rusty tracks and locked gates.

When you finally end up in a long corridor, criss-crossed by old rails and several locked doors, you stop for a moment.

Planning.

You need to figure out how you're going to do the third game. How to trick Mommy Long Legs. How to free Poppy.

There are still too many variables. Mommy is unpredictable. Poppy is not trustworthy. And the prototype...

You exhale and turn to Olivia.

"Look around you."

She raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Look around you. I'm thinking."

She seems to think for a moment, then shrugs her shoulders. "All right, then. Maybe I'll find a secret treasure or something."

At least it's quiet.

While she disappears, you let your thoughts run free.

We don't have much time. Everything has to be put in the right order. Mommy will chase us. Poppy will try to manipulate us.

And then?

Then there's Playcare. Your mind races through old memories. Plans. Blueprints. Calculations.

And then - steps, Olivia comes back.

"Soooo..." She leans against one of the metal walls. "I've checked the puzzle. It's impossible."

You narrow your eyes. "There's no such thing as impossible."

"Yes, you do. I swear. Even you can't do it."

"You don't have enough intelligence to estimate, nor can you solve a puzzle that was made for stupid production workers."

Olivia rolls her eyes. "Oh, shut up. Anyway, Kissy Missy showed up and opened the door for me. Cute, right?"

You pause.

Kissy Missy?

Unlikely.

But not impossible.

You say no more.

You simply walk up to the puzzle and solve it within two minutes.

And that brings you back to the Game Station.

Olivia immediately runs up the stairs without a moment's hesitation and throws herself into the middle of the group of Smiling Critters. Her voice almost cracks as she recounts what just happened - how Kissy Missy opened the door for her, how you solved the puzzle in record time, and of course, how Mommy Long Legs once again gave a little personal hate speech against you.

You don't listen.

You are not interested.

You're already thinking about the next game.

Statues.

It has to be perfectly planned.

If you survive the game, it must fulfill two objectives:

First: Kill Mommy Long Legs or at least hurt her so badly that she can no longer follow you.

Secondly, Olivia has to save Poppy.

No plan B. No mistakes.

Just one single, flawless pass.

You look at the group.

They have finished their breakfast - finally.

And just like you, they also seem to be planning.

Bubba has placed a large blueprint of Playcare on the floor. In a calm voice, he explains the structure of the building and the possible escape routes he remembers.

Of course, no one listens to him.

Kickin and Hoppy are discussing their seats on the train like this is a fucking school trip. Bobby is talking to Olivia about some bullshit, something about makeup or warm milk. Crafty is sitting cross-legged on the floor, drawing intently with a broken pencil. DogDay and CatNap mumble quietly to each other, presumably about their own pasts.

They all have their small, meaningless worlds.

You ignore them.

But then -

"Good luck to both of you!"

A few of the critters call after you as you finally set off.

You pause for a split second.

To both of you.

You cut that out of your thoughts. Meaningless.

The Game Station disappears behind you as you step through one of the rear doors.

The path to Statues takes you deeper into the complex. Narrow hallways and dark back rooms.

You solve a few more electrical puzzles, supply doors with electricity, bypass defective circuits. Olivia stays quiet this time - perhaps because she realizes that you're already five steps ahead in your thoughts.

After exactly four minutes and seventeen seconds, you will finally be standing in front of another huge metal door.

Statues. The gate slowly rises and the hall in front of you is huge.

Three sections, clearly recognizable.

The first: a labyrinth of small castle walls. A zig-zag path that will lead you through narrow corridors. The second: A moat made of blue foam cubes, with rings hanging above it. Too risky. Shimmying through the rings would take too much time. You will have to go through the bottom.

The third: Yellow blocks scattered across the foam trench. A jumping course. No problem for you - but Olivia?

You note down every potential risk in your head at lightning speed.

And then -

The TV flickers above you.

"Welcome to Statues."

A cold voice.

"Wow... it's getting exciting." Olivia sounds excited.

"This advanced obstacle course is designed to test your physical endurance and strength. The rules are simple: The lights will turn off; you can move through the obstacle course at this time. However, when the lights turn on, you can look around but cannot move. You may move again once the lights turn back off. The lovable PJ Pug-a-Pillar will follow you. If PJ reaches you... your test is over."

The screen goes black. The music stops and you both stand at the first gate leading into the first sector.

A light flickers to your right, without looking you know what to expect.

Barely fifteen meters away, behind a window, she stands: Mommy Long Legs.

"It was always so sad to see the kids go..."

Her voice is almost melancholic.

"They called me Mommy because I was the closest thing they ever had to one."

You only see them out of the corner of your eye.

Her long, unnatural limbs; the way she almost blurs with her surroundings in the semi-darkness.

"But they'd come for games... and never come back."

She leans closer to the glass.

"They left Mommy to die alone... Mommy didn't deserve that."

"I'm getting really scared of the..." mumbles Olivia at your side.

You do not react.

You don't need to be afraid.

Facts only.

"But you two..."

Mommy Long Legs raises her head slightly, her eyes sparkling.

"You worked here. So If anyone deserves to die alone..."

A smile slowly spreads across her face.

"It's you."

Then she disappears.

And the gate opens.

Lights off.

The disturbing music echoes through the room, distorted sounds that don't belong here. You move quickly, along the walls, in a constant zig-zag pattern.

Left - right - left - right.

Then -

Light on.

You stop abruptly.

"Don't move."

Simple. Direct. No room for error.

"I know..." Olivia sighs. "But can't we just keep going?"

Not even three seconds have passed and she is already getting impatient.

But then -

A sound.

Deep from the shadows.

Slow, sluggish, heavy.

Behind you, in the darkness, something is moving.

PJ Pug-a-Pillar.

It winds its way through the narrow path, its massive body pulling itself through the tunnel, centimeter by centimeter closer to you.

Lights off.

You are moving again.

You're getting further than you expected.

Olivia is fast.

Even faster than you.

Nevertheless, it does not remain quiet.

"Damn, I stubbed my toe!" and "I swear, this wasn't built for children!"

It's irritating - but it keeps pace.

You reach the second section.

Lights off.

"Oh my fucking-!"

"Stay calm."

You have to go through the foam trench.

The soft ground makes every step difficult, forcing you to literally dig through the cubes.

Behind you -

PJ comes closer.

His crawling movements echo through the tunnel.

But Olivia... She fidgets.

It cannot stand still.

Even now - when any movement could mean death - she twitches nervously.

If she doesn't get this under control, we're dead!

So you make a choice.

Slowly. Painfully slow.

You move your hand.

Then you reach for hers.

Her skin is warm. Unusually warm.

Olivia freezes.

Her head jerks around towards you, her eyes wide, her cheeks red. An expression you've never seen on her before - startled, yes, but also...

Shy.

But you can't analyze any further.

Lights off.

You keep moving.

But Olivia...

She won't let go.

Quite the opposite.

Her grip tightens, her fingers clasp yours, and you move together through the darkness.

Together.

You slide through the cubes, jump over obstacles, climb side by side over the yellow blocks.

Almost... effortlessly.

As if something had settled in.

But you can already see it.

The error in the design.

The collapsed exit: it is blocked.

Large piles of rubble - the planned trap.

Mommy Long Legs never intended to make you pass this test.

That was an execution.

Light on.

PJ is now less than twenty meters away.

His huge eyes look at you without expression.

"Wait a minute..." Olivia gasps, only now realizing the obstacle. "Don't tell me!"

"Hold on tight."

That's all you say.

Olivia is breathing faster now. Her chest rises and falls in short, uncontrolled movements.

She panics, but has no time to process it.

As soon as the light goes out, pull them with you.

A single, lightning-fast shot from your GrabPack will send you both soaring.

You crash into the glass wall of the observation room.

Olivia gasps loudly as you come to your feet. You push her behind you so that she doesn't get hit by shards of glass in her shocked state.

You are on top.

Mommy Long Legs is already gone.

And now?

Now there is just one last thing to do, and that is the last part of the code.

Olivia is still standing next to you, breathing heavily, her eyes wide, her fingers trembling slightly.

"What..." She swallows. "What do we do now?"

You straighten up and look at the dark hole in front of you.

"Normally we would go through this corridor now..."

Your voice is calm. Calculating.

"It goes deep under the factory, through a massive underground system, and then back towards Game Station."

Olivia blinks. "Normally?"

"There's a quicker way." You look at her. "A way that leads us directly to a machine we can use to kill them."

She swallows. Her grin has disappeared - she understands that this is no longer a game.

Not that it ever was.

You move.

Through a white door in the observation room.

Then down the stairs, through various hallways.

You are back near the Game Station, but that is not your destination.

You take them further.

Deeper.

Until you stand in front of a long, sterile corridor.

White.

Much too white.

It's as if someone had tried to make this place look clinical - a pointless attempt when you look at the floor.

Stains.

Red and blue squares.

Colors that shouldn't be here.

All over the walls - drawings are scribbled pictures of Mommy Long Legs.

A nursery nightmare in the middle of this lifeless factory.

And at the end of the corridor?

One goal.

A huge, metallic gate.

Directly above -

A scanner for the blue hand of the GrabPack.

You turn to Olivia.

"Listen."

Your voice is calm. Controlled.

"Mommy's about to come running up behind me."

Olivia winces.

You ignore it.

"There's a big machine in this room. A kind of shredder."

She nods, nervously.

"We have a minimal time window. I'll activate the shredder with the GrabPack. Mommy will be too fast to stop and run straight into the machine. Once she's caught, we'll have her crushed."

Every word fits.

And to your surprise...

Olivia understands.

She doesn't say anything stupid. No jokes. No comments.

She just nods. Slowly.

And then you shoot the blue hand at the scanner.

The loading bar fills up slowly.

Much too slow.

And then -

Stamping.

Heavy.

Loud. Fast.

You turn around.

At the end of the aisle - Mommy Long Legs.

She runs. Unnaturally fast.

Her body stretches to absurd lengths, her arms grab the walls, pulling her forward even faster.

"She'll be right here-!" Olivia gasps. "Damn it! How long does it scan for?"

The gate opens, much too slowly.

Mommy is right behind you.

You take Olivia with you. Immediately. You both storm through the entrance.

You see the shredder.

Without hesitating for a second, you shoot your GrabPack at the lever.

The machine starts up. Mommy rushes in behind you. But she doesn't stop. Too fast. Too much momentum.

She crashes into the machine.

One mistake. A single mistake. And she realizes it too late.

Because your arm is in the shredder.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

She screams.

Her body writhes, fighting against the metal teeth. In vain, as she is slowly pulled in.

Their flesh shatters into fibrous strands.

"HE'LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM! "

Olivia stands stock-still next to you. Her eyes are wide, her breathing shallow.

But you, you are just observing.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"

One last screech.

Then -

Silence.

The shredder spits out the remains.

A single severed head rolls across the floor.

And then -

A sound.

Not from Olivia. Not from you. From behind the gate. Something is moving.

You turn around immediately. But it's too late. Something shoots out. A metal hand.

Unnaturally long, thin, bony And she reaches for the head.

Mommy Long Legs' remains disappear into the darkness.

The prototype...

You do not react. You don't shout. You do nothing.

Just watch.

Mommy Long Legs' head disappears into the darkness.

You don't move. You don't even think about it. Just another calculated result.

That's it.

"Let's go."

Your voice is neutral and Olivia says nothing.

No stupid comments. No jokes.

She just follows you. Back to the Game Station. But differently this time. Not through the corridors below. But high up.

You move across metal catwalks, narrow lattice walkways that run high above the game station.

Directly above the Smiling Critters. Twenty meters above their heads.

Normally...

Normally you would have expected Olivia to say something like, in her usual inappropriate volume:

"Oh my God, look down there!"

Or "Hey, do you think I can spit down here?"

Something. But she says nothing.

She is still shocked.

You can see it in her attitude.

How she doesn't deliberately push herself towards you this time, but consciously keeps her distance.

She still processes it. The shredder. The screams.

Mommy Long Legs' last, desperate sentence:

"HE'LL MAKE ME PART OF HIM!"

But it's not your problem. You reach the train's command center.

You step through the door - and Olivia immediately makes a noise.

A soft, stifled gasp. And then you see it too.

Poppy.

Upstairs, on a small conveyor belt, directly above two computer screens.

Glued down. Wrapped in a net. Mommy had caught her. But Mommy is dead.

You don't wait, one well-aimed shot with the GrabPack and the net tears.

Poppy falls forward, you catch her and also tear off the snippet with the third move code.

That's the end of it.

But before you can say anything -

"Did you kill her?"

Poppy's voice is weak. Broken. Her porcelain skin looks paler than usual.

Something is different. But you can't place it. And you don't answer either. Neither does Olivia. But the answer is clear.

Poppy looks at you. Long.

"Good...I'll board the train. We need to leave. "

It disappears into the shadows.

And you continue across the catwalk.

This time it is Olivia who draws attention to herself.

She calls down with a short, sharp "Hey!".

The Critters look up. Bubba first. Then DogDay and then the others.

A few wave.

Kickin shouts something upstairs, but you don't listen. All you see is Olivia suddenly falling back into her role. She leans over the railing, grinning - a smile that's much more forced than usual.

But she tries. She tries to pretend that everything is normal. But her fingers, clinging to the metal, are white with tension.

And then -

"Come on."

You don't wait for her. You go down a small, blue chute. A short, narrow shaft.

Olivia lands a little roughly on the floor next to you, curses briefly, and then -

You are back downstairs. Back in the Game Station.

The critters are ready. Breakfast is over, the plans are made.

Bubba is the first to approach you.

His eyes wander back and forth between the two of you.

"Is she dead?"

You just nod.

"How?"

Again, you just nod.

Bubba presses his lips together, but he doesn't ask any more questions.

Therefore DogDay.

"And now?"

Now. Now you go.

Now you're off to Playcare.

You know it. And they know it.

But Olivia...

It's not quite there yet.

She laughs with the critters, but you can tell it's not real.

She talks, makes jokes, even complains loudly that the cocoa was made with water and not milk - but her hands are still shaking slightly.

She almost overdoes it.

And you recognize it.

She doesn't want to think about what she has just seen.

Mommy Long Legs' body, crushed between the gears.

The torn-off head, the metal hand that stole it.

But she says nothing about it. And you say nothing. Because there's nothing to say.

"Let's get going."

That is all.

A simple, short command.

And then they all get on the train.

You. Olivia. The Smiling Critters.

The code is complete. You enter the numbers, your eyes fixed on the indicator lights.

Red. A moment of silence. Green. The train jerks forward. And you're on your way. You can feel the glances of the others behind you.

Everyone is standing in the front carriage - tense but excited. The Smiling Critters whisper among themselves as the train plunges deeper and deeper into the yellow network of tunnels beneath the factory.

"Finally away from this place!" Picky leans back and relaxes. "I think I'm having nightmares about that spider woman."

"What do you think awaits us down there?" Kickin looks nervously at the window. "Playcare..."

"I don't know." Bubba replies calmly. "But whatever it is - it can't be any worse than this."

You listen to them as you slowly lean back. But your mind is elsewhere.

If Poppy still needs us, she'll crash the train. There is no alternative. If we reach Playcare, she can no longer control us.

So she has to stop us before we get there.

You know it. And Poppy knows it.

"I was so scared she'd put me back in that case."

Everything stops. Every voice. Every noise. The conversations stop abruptly.

You all look up. Left, to the small loudspeaker.

Poppy's voice.

"But you saved me."

Confusion spreads. The critters look at each other. DogDay frowns. Bobby tilts his head. Olivia furrows her eyebrows.

But nobody says anything.

Then -

"You two are perfect..."

A whisper, soft and cold. "Too perfect to lose."

Your gaze hardens. There it is. The moment you've been waiting for.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you leave."

The train jolts. No gentle braking. No warning signal. A brutal change of direction.

Instead of going straight ahead, where the exit is, the train suddenly veers to the right. A steep precipice. A disused track. An unavoidable crash.

"Hold on tight." That's all you say.

But the panic sets in immediately.

"WHAT?!" Olivia's head jerks around. "Wait, wait, wait - is she trying to kill us?"

"Damn, damn, damn!" Bubba tries to hold on to the seat.

"DO SOMETHING!" Kickin screams.

The critters cling to each other, too late, too slow. Then the train tips over.

It pulls to the left, then to the right, then everything tilts.

The world turns. And then - the impact.

Loud. Hard. The critters are thrown backwards. You see Olivia crash into a metal strut, her head falls forward. One by one, they lose consciousness.

And you? You're still standing. The only survivor in a room full of falling bodies.

You can see the emergency brake lever. It is close enough.

Your arm shoots forward -

You reach for it, tear at it -

"You should know best what happens down here... Y/N." Poppy's voice sounds so much colder now. "I hope you take this as always... professionally. "

Then - the final impact.

Metal breaks. Windows shatter. A final, fatal jolt -

And even you can no longer stay on your feet. The force pulls you backwards. You slam into the wall. Your arms shoot up, trying to cushion the blow -

But it's not enough.

The pain explodes in the back of your head.

Your vision blurs, the world around you goes black.

"What my subordinates are doing, Mr. Pierre... is a plan. Not murder, just the simple execution of my orders."

Light. Flickering. Distorted. Not the cold neon light of the factory. A different light. Orange. Glowing. Burning.

You feel it even before you see it. Heat. Pain. Your eyelids twitch. A flicker, a twitching of your fingers. Then - breath. A breath of air, rough, hot, oppressive - not enough. You gasp. Your body feels heavy, every movement is like passing through a thick, burning fog. You blink.

And then you see it. Fire. Everywhere. Glowing flames wrap themselves around the walls of the derailed train. Red, blazing tongues that consume everything around them. The ground beneath you is hot, almost unbearable. Black smoke rises, thick and oppressive. It burns your eyes, bites your lungs. Every breath is agony.

"Shit..." Your own voice sounds strange. Broken. Scratchy. You try to move. Your fingers grope across the soot-covered floor, your muscles ache. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you straighten up.

Your head throbs. A dull pain hammers through your skull. You grab the back of your head. Blood. Warm, sticky. But not lethal. Not deadly enough to stop you.

You look around you. But that's the problem: you're alone. No Smiling Critter. No Olivia. No one. Only fire. Only smoke. Only the distorted shadows of the blazing flames.

"Olivia?" No answer.

"Bubba?" Nothing.

You stand there, surrounded by destruction. Your mind is working, analyzing, reconstructing: Where are they? How long were you unconscious? How bad are their injuries? But no matter how many formulas, calculations or probabilities you run through in your head - you have no answer.

And this is the first time you really notice it: something has changed.

You look around you. The world around you is a chaos of fire and destruction. But now that your vision clears, you recognize it. Playcare. Or more precisely - the Playcare Train Station. Except that it no longer looks the way it should.

The floor is torn open, steel beams protrude from the walls like broken bones. The air is thick with smoke, heavy and poisonous, burning in your lungs, each inhalation feels like a sting. Flames flicker over pieces of rubble, casting distorted shadows on the walls. The light from the neon tubes above you flickers, some are broken, others hang at unnatural angles from the ceiling, spraying sparks.

And behind you - a massive mountain of rubble.

The way back is blocked. Perfect.

You take a deep breath and feel the weight of your rucksack on your back. Everything is still there. You check your hands. Slight wounds, nothing serious. Slowly, you take a step forward.

And then you hear it.

Crying. Quiet, trembling crying. Childlike.

You stand still. The sound cuts through the smoke, softer than anything else here. But you know it.

You've heard it many times. In the labs. In Playcare. In prison. It's the cry of someone who has lost. Someone who knows there is no escape.

You follow the sound. It leads you past broken train carriages, through smoke and glowing debris.

And then you see her: Hoppy. She is sitting on the edge of the platform, huddled together, her big green ears hanging limply, her body trembling slightly. Her hands are buried in her face, she is crying.

You pause and say nothing. Neither does Hoppy. Only the sound of the fire fills the silence. Seconds pass, then minutes. Neither of you moves.

Until finally - "I'm sorry." Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

You don't react. Again: "I'm sorry." More shaky this time. "I'm so sorry." The same words over and over again.

And at some point you speak:

"Why?" A simple word, but it brings everything to a standstill.

Hoppy takes a deep breath, her hands clawing at her legs. "Because..." She falters and swallows hard. "Because I'm the only one left."

"What?"

"The others..." She shakes her head, her ears twitching slightly with tension. "They're gone. All of them. Kickin, Olivia, DogDay... all of them."

A hard knot tightens in your stomach.

"Gone?"

"CatNap took them."

Silence spreads - only the crackling of the fire remains audible. You sit down next to her; Hoppy doesn't move.

And for the first moment since you've known her, there's no hatred in her gaze - no more resentment or reproach - just guilt. She looks down at her hands; they are clasped together as tightly as if she were trying to hold herself.

"I've been hiding." Her voice is soft and brittle at the same time. "When CatNap came... I was too scared. I didn't do anything. I... I let her down."

You observe her closely - and without meaning to, you recognize yourself in her.

Because that's exactly... that's exactly what you've been doing your whole life: following orders, not rebelling, not fighting - and when it came down to it... you did nothing.

You understand them more than you want to admit - more than you should.

"What do we do now?" Her voice almost breaks under the weight of her question.

And then you say something you've never said before - something that feels wrong and yet is more honest than anything you've said before: "I don't know."

And yet - here you are.

Sitting next to Hoppy. Staring into the blazing flames engulfing the remains of the train.

Not acting. Not calculating. Just waiting. As if you had nothing else to do.

In the back of your mind - Olivia's voice. Not really there, just an echo from your memory.

"Maybe this journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about unbecoming everything that isn't really you. "

You remember her tone of voice when she said it.

Relaxed, as always. But something about it hit you, even if you ignored it at the time. But now - now it sticks. Like a foreign object in your head. Something that shouldn't be there. Something you can't ignore.

You open your mouth slowly. A hesitation that you don't know from yourself. "I think..."

Hoppy lifts her head. Her ears twitch slightly, her eyes meet yours. There's a hint of surprise in them - as if she didn't expect you to say anything at all.

And then:

"I think...I miss Olivia."

---

Holy shit, what the hell was that?! The train crashed, that was to be expected - but the character development? So much in just one chapter! Okay, seriously, you don't find happiness at the end of an adventure, but somewhere in the middle. And since the middle of four is ... two ... okay, I'll stop with the bad jokes. The development from bored genius to something completely new is really fascinating. And it only gets more intense. I'm delighted that you've read the chapter - feel free to leave support!

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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

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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

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jamestsmirk · 5 months ago

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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.

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nami-writes · 2 years ago

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[ 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

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samtheacesheep · 1 year ago

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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

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evanbuckleyrecs · 16 days ago

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January wrap up

So I haven't really had the energy to make separate posts lately, BUT I started track what I read and bookmark, so here is a list of all the 911 fics I bookmarked in January 2025!

Edit: I tried adding the author's tumblrs but couldn't find all of them. If you are/know any of them, please let me know :)

Please, please, please by bookinit

buck doesn’t touch eddie anymore. eddie’s losing it, a little bit.

You'll Never Find Me Trying to Leave by DuoOfDiaz

Eddie and Buck are overjoyed that Christopher has returned from Texas. They organise a Welcome Back to LA party in his honor and it goes off without a hitch. Buck wonders whether the after party moment is finally the time to tell Eddie how he feels.

Please don't say I'm too much by buckleyys118

a comment from Tommy causes Buck to spiral. Eddie fixes it.

Born with a weak heart by foxwatson

the one where eddie won't touch buck once he wakes up in the hospital, and buck goes absolutely bonkers bananas about it

If I loved you less by spaceprincessem

Buck can't use his phone for two days. Eddie sends him text anyways

If You Need Me, You Know I'll Be There by soft_satan

Eddie’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. “Buck? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” “No,” Buck laughed, breathless and bitter, just on this side of hysterical. He sniffled again, sounding like he was trying to stop himself from crying. “C-could uh… could you come get me? Please?”

Out of ashes by ashavahishta

“They found Buck.” Hen’s hand goes to her chest. Chim stumbles like he’s been hit, hand curling around the back of a chair for balance. And Eddie - Eddie’s knees give out. He’s lucky there’s a chair right under him because he just buckles, head in hands, trying to remember how to breathe. “Is he - did they - what…what did they find?” “He’s alive.” “What?” Eddie’s head snaps up.

I Did It All (To Make You Love Me) by sirencalls

Honestly, Eddie is just trying to find the pair of boxers he knows he left here last week.

Won't you kiss me on the mouth (and love me like a sailor) by hirarih

Buck discovers he’s in love with Eddie, rants about it to Maddie, and doesn’t realise Eddie is right behind him.

I can read between your lines (dizzy from the spinning) by buckleydiazy

“So, theoretically,” Eddie sounds absolutely delighted, “if we didn’t know each other, you’d hook up with me in a public bathroom?” “Theoretically—I mean, do you want a serious answer?” Eddie hesitates for a moment. “Yeah,” he says quietly, all traces of humor gone from his voice. “Tell me.” “Probably,” Buck says. Then a little firmer—“Definitely.”

Not Doing This Alone by carpediaz

The one where Eddie hires Buck as a nanny for Christopher and has to navigate falling in love with someone he shouldn't want (who definitely wants him in return).

The kiss that lingers by greenbergsays

5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't.

Was I even on your way? By rangerdanger

Buck gets reminded of something that happened he'd rather forget.

This Could Be Our Year; Don't Let Go of My Hand by allisonRW96

After a routine call at the studio of a wealthy, eccentric fashion designer, the 118 find themselves invited to a masquerade ball on New Year’s Eve. Buck thinks it will be a perfect time to kiss Eddie. Eddie thinks it will be the perfect time to kiss Buck. Someone else has more sinister plans.

Rhythm of Your Heart series by devirnis

the 118 run a front restaurant for money laundering, and accidentally adopt the Buckley siblings

Baby mine by Fizzlespin

When Maddie tells him about Daniel, and being born for spare parts, Buck doesn't know what to do. Hurt, confused (and drunk), he goes to who he always goes to in a crisis for some calm, fatherly advice. But Bobby isn't home and Athena is left to pick up the pieces.

A minute from home but I feel so far from it by cozycatwriter

He thinks to anyone watching him that they might think he’s just lost in thought. He’s leaning against the pier fence, avoiding the bench this time around. Or maybe he looks like he’s about to throw himself off the wooden walkway and into the rocks below. He’s not sure which would be true. “Because you’re exhausting. We all have our own problems but you don’t see us whining about it.” He’s been back at station 118 for only a few shifts but it’s like the world has flipped upside down and he’s found himself within an alternate universe. Like Stranger Things.

Hen Wilson's Four Part Guide to Making Your Stupid Friends Date by songbvrd

When Buck and Eddie aren't speaking, Hen decides to take matters into her own hands.

50 Cheeky Texts by songbvrd

Buck gets drunk-dared to send Eddie one cheeky text every day for 50 days. Eddie loses his mind. TW for the cringiest pickup lines in existence.

You warm me up (inside and out) by becausebuckley

after a shift leaves buck tired and shivering, eddie takes him home.

See y'all next month 🫡

#911 #buddie #911 on abc #buddie fanfic rec #buddie fanfiction #911 abc #buck and athena #911 ao3 #911 fanfiction #fanfic rec

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leighsartworks216 · 3 months ago

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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

Third 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

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tired-of-being-nice · 1 year ago

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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

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zuzu-draws · 10 months ago

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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!

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thegeniusofplaytimeco · 1 month ago

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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! 🎉

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clownsuu · 2 years ago

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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 ö 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

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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

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wangxianficfinder · 5 months ago

Text

In the mood for...

Sep 23rd

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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 🤩

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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)

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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)

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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

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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

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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)

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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!

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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)

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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!!

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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)

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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

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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

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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)

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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

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