#tw implied starvation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brainr0t-landfill · 2 months

Text

🌃Mercurial:

Ghoap x male reader

Chapter One/Prologue: Abstain

"I found you, I found the door."

-Mitski, I Want You

(please mind the tags, I don't know how the UK train system works, English isn't my first language apologies for any mistakes <3)

You kiss them goodbye on the doorway, you make sure their jackets are zipped up, you promise to keep the windows locked and to not go out at night, Simon smiles, his eyes crinkling above the surgical mask.

"Gonna be good for us, hare? Sure hope so."

It's half joking, half threatening and desperately hopeful.You focus on the spot between his eyes as you nod, stomach twisting into knots and hands sweating.

You press your ear to the metal door and listen to their footsteps fading away then you rush to the balcony and watch the black, truck you repainted last month go down the road, through the U turn and disappear, your knuckles white against the railings your forearms stiff, eyes so wide and unlinking untill they water and force you to blink. You're scared that any moment now the other shoe will drop, they'll turn the car around and John will ask you if you really took them for such fools as Simon rumages through drawers and wardrobes laying every bit of your pitifull escape plan on the floor, like a wolf gutting a hare. Then you'll be driven back to the lonely, stuffy shack in the woods in the trunk, hogtied and gagged, feeling every bump on the road.

The trunk opens and you shut your eyes against the onslaught of white hard light, nose stinging from the cold as you curl into yourself out of both fear and well deserved shame, guilt. They're talking above you, familiar voices blurring together and becoming white noise. You feel like an insect pinned down, getting dissected.

Someone places their hand over your eyes, rubbing at your red, runny nose with their calloused thumb.

"Oh lovie."

"Carefull Si, cannea back out now."

There's silence for a second and you know they're exchanging the kind of look that saves their lives out on the field, the kind of look that explains and understands.

"Gotta let him learn his lesson ,hmm?"

"No other choice left."

Simon runs his hand over your face and rubs at your neck, that still smells of someone else. Mature and cold with hints of narcissus.You can see his internal conflict in his darkned eyes and see you can see his attachment, his love, his despration winning out.

You look up at them at Simon's wide set face and his unfocussed eyes dried out from lack of sleep, John bends down and picks you out of the truck setting you down on aching feet, still clad in socks as he flicks his knife out, a flash of fear goes through you, gutted by the same knife you had bought for him on his birthday, how fitting.

"Run 'n I'll break ya legs,."

"Last resort Si, might never heal proper again."

"Wouldn't tha' a good thing by now?"

You hear a sigh, both exasperated and heartbroken.

"Hope not."

Simon holds you in place by the shoulders as John cuts the ropes away, his jaw is set but his sweet blue eyes are wet, tired and you can't help the immense guilt you feel at putting them through this, for pushing them so far, for staying when you knew you'd do this.

Then you lift your face and see it, the cabin it's a box really, no windows and only one heavy door, John had mentioned his father had built one for hunting ,you wonder if it's the same one. You look over the dark wood walls and the door padlocked from the outside, your fear snowballs, all consuming and rattling your ribs. The idea of being trapped in the small, dark space is nauseating, it terrifies you in a way so primal, so reflex you think you'll bolt for a second, you think you'll beg scream, anything, anything. John straightens up and caresses your face.

"Just for a little while hare, just 'till Si n' I are back from this misson, then we'll come 'n get ya, promised we'd never leave eachothe, remember?."

He rips the tape off your mouth and gives you a soft sweet kiss, familiar lips failing to settle you for the first time, well groomed stubble scratchy against your moist skin, Simon presses his cheek against yours.

"It has everything ya need and we'll be back before you know it, just behave yourself and you'll never have to see this place again."

His voices is gravel against your skin, his breath smoke but you can't focus on them pressing against you on either side or the ropes laying undone on the grass.

All you can see is the cabin, the padlock, the wardens, the convict.

You had stayed for a long time in that cabin, long enough for your food to start running out, long enough to grow both lovesick and resentfull, long enough to get yourself together and fix the old, busted hunting camera you had found shoved between the wall and the bed.

You bought two flasdrives a week ago before their deployment and hid them in your tool box, on one you upload images of the cabin, of chains, of bruises, dents in the wall and your room ransacked time and time again.You know it's not a strong case and it's not meant to be. It's supposed to be a reminder for what you did, what you're running from, your sentencing.

On the other flash drive you upload all your happy memories, screenshots of loving wordsand jokes, selfies together, pictures of gifts and vacations, the apartment you saved up for with them. To keep you warm, souvenirs from the last place you settled in, from the last place you let yourself be loved.

You tuck them into the struddiest back pack you own, four changes of clothes, underwear, very basic toiletries, some fancy jewellery you'll have to pawn off later on. The money, fake ID and passport you had hidden in the inner lining of one of the coats John's forgotten about a long time ago, discarded at the back of his closet.

You pack the bag in under ten minutes just the way you practiced, the hard part is the note, you write over and over again palms sweaty and hands shaky eventually you settle on;

'Stay safe, I love you, goodbye.' Flowery language and false promises feel ingenuine when you're leaving everything the three of you have worked for, everything they'd tied their hearts to , it feels cowardly when you're running away. You leave the crumpled up notes on the top of the trash and your shared card on the table. You keep your promise ring in your pocket.

The walk to the train station is torture, every loud step is Simon, every wide shoulder or brown jacket is John, you feel like you're drowning in a pool filled with snippets of them, like driftwood caught in a storm much bigger than he'll ever comprehend. You either dread the day they'll be nothing but memories or salivate for it, you can't decide with the overwhelming panic, the sick excitement.You buy a day pass and a burner phone before you throw away your cell phone.

The bus ride is calmer, when you don't think about the pub you met in, the small flower shop you routinely bought foxgloves and bluebells from, the record shop Johnny loves, the workplace Simon insisted he drove you to whenever he could; the lufe you're betraying, the blessings you're running from.

You sit arms crossed and face hidden under your hood as you watch the city flash by, the further away from home you get the more guilt you feel; guilt for letting them in, guilt for misguiding them, guilt for aggravating them again and again and again untill either one snapped, guilt for leaving when you had just convinced them you wouldn't even think of it.

You swallow it down and watch the city speed away colors blurring like oil paint.

Next Chapter >>

36 notes · View notes

surplus-of-sarcasm · 3 months

Text

31st Story, Part 2

TW: Blood, implied past captivity and torture, stitches, wound description, angst, corrupt system, issues regarding figure (brief), bruises, angst, knife, touch starvation

Part 1

Guess who's back with a hella long piece. vacay from college for some time with semester 1 over, woo! enjoyyy 💙

“So how did you sleep?” the vigilante asked as she walked downstairs to find the villain sitting cross-legged on her couch.

“Well,” he answered evenly, emotionlessness overtaking his tone as usual. It wasn't a complete lie; he'd slept better than he had in a long time, but his eyes had wrenched open a little after sunrise, even though he wasn't a morning person. He couldn't relax too much into this life, the knife he took shoved into the pocket of his sweatpants, but she didn't need to know that.

“I'll make us breakfast,” she announced.

“I'll help you out,” he offered, even though he knew she could probably infer what his motives were. He still wasn't taking any chances anyway.

She nodded curtly in response, leading him to the kitchen. And he'd almost wished someone had warned him about the whiplash of doing something so outlandishly casual with your enemy, as he watched her make a sandwich and soon enough followed suit, still hyper aware of the knives and the boiling water in the kettle.

And of course, nothing was lost on Vigilante, even if she probably wasn’t half as nervous as he was, the half-frantic, wild animal wrapped in the poorly fitting garment of someone calm and collected. “Are you always this tense?” she questioned as she sat down at the table and he sat opposite from her.

“Just hungry,” he shot back smoothly, a seasoned liar. Sure, he technically was half-starved, trying to eat slowly just so he wouldn’t retch, but if that was the case, he would’ve relaxed when he ate.

The vigilante said nothing as she took a bite of her sandwich, but her disbelieving eyebrow raise needed no further additions.

The villain’s grip tightened on his mug as he worried his frayed bottom lip between his teeth,”What do you want? If you’re going to question every micro-gesture of mine, then why’d you bring me here?” His voice was hoarse with exhaustion, probably from all the screaming he couldn’t muffle, not that he cared.

“I get it,” the vigilante said placatingly, even though it was clear she was somewhat irritated. She wasn’t a goddamn bleeding heart just oozing compassion and patience, not that he expected any different. “You’re afraid of getting hurt.”

“I am not afraid of crap, Vigilante.” It came out softer than he’d intended, almost as though he was the one trying to calm the situation, a new trait of people-pleasing a new and heavily despised survival skill he’d recently acquired.

The vigilante wanted to argue, but she also knew that from the day she’d walked into his cell and pulled him out, that she’d been walking on thin ice. That the man in front of her wasn’t his normal, unflappable self that could dish out a lot worse than whatever she dared to throw at him, so for the rest of this tense, awkward breakfast, they both remained quiet.

It had taken them about two hours of trepidation spent in the opposite ends of the living room for Vigilante to break the silence. “So, about the plan,” she started.

“Yeah?” he asked, now turning to face her.

“We can’t fight her by traditional means. We don’t have the time to amass an army big enough to rival my sister’s own. The main thing we need to do is find some way to desecrate that shining image of hers,” she explained.

The villain let out a low hum as though he was contemplating something, but the slight shift in the nature of his gaze indicated he’s noticed something. “Knocking your sister off of her pedestal is surely going to gain you some traction,” he noted.

“I don’t care much for the spotlight,” she countered.

“I know. But you seem to care about making sure your sister doesn’t have everything. Still, that isn’t the issue anyway.”

And again, he was right. There is something so utterly sickening of being born in someone’s shadow, of having all your power from someone else’s name. Vigilante was only formidable in people’s eyes because it was required of Superhero’s sister. Again, she’d never claimed to be dramatically selfless.

Still, she took note of how the villain made no effort at eye contact, his eyes trained on the pattern of her wooden coffee table, but she refrained from commenting. “Right. The general idea is, if the adoring public find out what she does to the people in her custo-”

The villain, in his most daring act of the day, had let out a sardonic snort. “Oh, save it. I don’t think you realise that how people like me are treated doesn’t really irk anyone. Because that’s how the world works, it’s easier like that. I’m not the most notorious, but it’s safe to say I’m ‘famous’ enough,” he made air quotations with his fingers, “People usually want to know about the trial, when it comes to people they’ve heard of, but no one gave a damn. No one cared to know I never really got a trial in the first place. Because they were just relieved that the Big Bad Guy was off the streets. Locked up somewhere. It doesn’t matter that my record says I’m guilty of crap I’ve never done. Because technically, I’ve committed my fair share of my crimes, what’s more to the pile? Hell, if it keeps me locked away for all eternity, then why not?”

This time, the villain’s gaze was steely, his teeth gnashed together and his tone harsh, and yet before she’d even commented, the villain was quick to force the muscles of his face to work on pulling it into a blank expression, his hand going to his pocket.

Where, unbeknownst to Vigilante, the knife from yesterday was. . .

It took her a moment to register his words and realise he was right. The likes of Villain wouldn’t garner the sympathy of the same people that cheered when they were locked up, at every suffocating press conference where her sister’s airy voice seemed to ring in her ears.

But how else was she supposed to rouse some sort of public outcry against her sister? She needed the key, the concept, the idea, and from that she could form a plan. It was why she thought of asking the villain in the first place.

“Then what should we do to get people to notice?”

The villain’s pale hand made its way out of his pocket, his expression still nearly unreadable. “Your sister’s clever. She’s almost untraceable, and uncovering her shady past would be difficult. Or actually, more difficult than having her do something terrible now.”

“So you’re saying we somehow force her to commit some sort of terrible crime?”

“Force is the wrong word. It wouldn’t be a choice she wouldn’t make on her own accord. And that’s our selling point. No one needs to make her pull underhanded crap because she’ll take that choice anyway. And from then, whatever it is you want to reveal is actually going to have a basis.”

The villain straightened his posture, pulling his now slightly loose fitting hoodie down so straighten a wrinkle only for it to come down with a strange difficulty, like it was stuck to his skin, the man letting out a soft hiss.

“You alright?” she asked.

“Fine,” he answered curtly, getting up. He knew exactly why his jacket had stuck to his form in the first place, and he really didn’t need Vigilante’s supposed concern. There’s a lot worse he’d seen in his life, in those three months alone than some old scratch reopening. Walking into his room, he shrugged his hoodie off in front of the mirror only to notice that the stupid scratch was in an area he could barely reach, deeper and uglier than he thought, blood running down it in crimson rivulets, exposed tissue that was barely healing showing too. He didn’t know where the gauze was, or how he’d even manage treating the wound. And somehow, his past vanity, or rather basic awareness of his appearance that he now called vanity hadn’t completely faded away considering he noticed bone and skin where muscle used to be and the ridiculous amount of bruises adorning his figure in various shades of dusty purples and browns; every sign of how his captors had turned him into a punching bag for all their sadistic cravings.

“Villain?”

Hell no. He didn’t want anyone in this room with him while he looked like this, frantic again and wishing he could rip his hair from its roots. He almost didn’t care that he was still bleeding and it hurt to shift even slightly, or that his wound felt warm to the touch and was probably infected. He sat there on the bed, gripping onto the sheets like they were the only thing tethering him to the world around him. “Just,” he faltered. As much as the villain hated it, he couldn’t do crap right now without her help. He bit his lip again and exhaled slowly. “Come in.”

She cursed softly when she looked at the wound, the scarlet already snaking down his lower back now. It didn’t take her long to come back with a whole lot of first aid equipment. “This’ll hurt,” she said slowly.

All she got was a low grunt in response as she pressed antiseptic-soaked gauze to his back, and even though he barely let out a noise, didn’t move out of the way, his shoulders still tensed up under the pain.

Involuntarily, she stroked a hand through his hair, a reflexive action even though the vigilante wasn’t particularly touchy, especially with her enemy turned ally of convenience. He turned to stare at her, looking nothing short of surprised, but not irritated or afraid. He turned around again as she stitched up his wound and tended to his other scratches, surprised how well he was holding out. The villain barely flinched through the process, but again the man had always been surprisingly enduring.

The villain seriously didn’t remember the last time anyone had tended to his injuries, even before getting captured. He’s sure someone did, during the times he couldn’t do it himself, but no one had ever run a hand through his hair when he’d tensed up or anything of the sort. He despised the fact that it hadn’t irritated him, instead he was left there dumbfounded, half-wishing she would do it again and half-grateful she refrained from it, from making him feel so bloody exposed like that. This entire ordeal, how strangely gentle the vigilante had been with him, how he slowly relaxed even though the idea of being this vulnerable, this close to one of his enemies terrified him.

The villain didn’t like to feel things that weren’t dry, controlled anger or smugness or absolutely nothing. So he didn’t, pretended he couldn’t until he believed it.

Every lie dies in the end, no?

The vigilante had got up to hand him a new t-shirt that he slowly pulled on, minding his wounds but still refusing any help with it. “Thanks,” he mumbled awkwardly.

“Y-you thank people?” she asked, half out of genuine surprise and half to lighten the mood.

The villain didn’t smile, but his lip twitched up ever so slightly with a half-smirk, “I’m a villain, but I’m not a complete tactless bastard.”

“I guess you could say that, and you’re welcome. I’ll just go clean up. Put your jacket in the basket over there.” The vigilante looked down at her bloodstained hands, and the villain gave her a curt nod.

He was lucky she hadn’t taken the jacket herself, or noticed the knife somehow, and he could still keep it. It felt even scummier after right now, when she could’ve just let him bleed out, or made it worse since she was this close to him. He didn’t even know what she would try the second he was no longer useful.

Carefully, he lowered his form onto the bed, letting out a soft groan. This was the strangest stage of his life yet, he presumed.

So many times, life is about choosing the worst option, the choice you’d swore to never make, about condemning yourself to being at the mercy of the unknown. People will scream at you to avoid the lion’s den, but sometimes it is the only shelter from a raging storm ready to destroy you into nothing. And yet, maybe there is wisdom in the most foolish decisions, and safety in the most dangerous risks. Because even if you’re riddled with deep wounds and scars, even those can heal under care, even in the most unexpected places.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi @those-damn-snippets @genuinelythioehat-is-whump @ghostofnorth

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

29 notes · View notes

bebemoon · 1 year

Photo

FAMINE .

#tw: death #tw: starvation #(implied starvation)#famine #the four horsemen of the apocalypse #mb #mine #black and white #dark #request #hope you like !#queue

81 notes · View notes

thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite · 1 month

Text

[[EFFECTS OF LONG-TERM STARVATION, PAST CHILD ABUSE, FEAR, MENTIONS OF THROWING UP]]

What happened?

Wiggly still hasn't let go, hands gripping Tinky's jacket as he curls up on his lap. He quiets his earlier whimpers and unintelligible murmurs. Tinky doesn't let up.

I was told you were sick. What were you doing alone in some room?

...Wasn't alone. Had Wilbur.

Mhm. Because Wiley's great company. That's why you're hugging him and not me.

Wiggog breathes in to answer. His brother's hold is grounding, but it's not enough to clear the fog of discomfort - one vastly different than his physical one - in his head. His stomach rumbles loudly and strongly enough that T'noy can feel it.

...You hungry?

Wiggly shakes his head with force. An alarm bell goes off immediately. Tinky adjusts him. Neither stops the hug.

No? Wiggles, when was the last time you ate?

Y'wrath doesn't answer, just presses even tighter against him.

Wiggly? You have to talk to me. Are you hurt?

Wiggog sniffles. His hunger makes it difficult to do much but seek steady support. He feels wobbly and woozy. His face feels hot, like everything else, as he rests his forehead on his big brother's shoulder.

H-hurts.

He's panting too heavily. His stomach twists and burns. He wants to vomit, but knows it wouldn't bring anything up.

What hurts, hon?

The term comes out of nowhere. Tinky's voice is concerned and hushed. That's enough to flip a switch. Every sudden, deep, stuttering sob Wiggly gulps down is another pang to his middle. T'noy sharply inhales, instinctively holding him closer.

OK. OK. You're fine. I'm here.

He's not sure what's wrong, but that doesn't matter. Sometimes it was better to not know. He just keeps his hand in his hair and rocks them. Tinky desperately tries to connect the dots he's been given.

T-Ti -Tinky-?

Right here.

M-m-m' sto-stomach hurt-hurts 'nd I needta thro-throw up-

Sudden understanding. Tinky rubs his back and shuts his eyes.

You're not gonna throw up. Just...

He cringes.

...Wait it out. It'll go away in 6 minutes, tops. Remember?

Y'wrath hiccups.

I - I'm sca-scared.

Karaxis swallows.

You don't have to be.

What - what about Dad?

It was what some of them had called Him when they were younger. The human term of endearment had never stuck. Tinky's breath hitches. He smooths it out quickly.

What...what about Him, Wiggles?

Wiggly can't stop crying no matter how painful it is. He feels terrified. But T'noy hasn't stopped hugging him. Tinky's trustworthy. He's safe, and has yet to fail at protecting him.

He - He-H-

He remembers the pain well. It had been more frequent when he was younger. He needed to eat more back then. And Wiggly had been bad then, too. The stomach pain seems to intensify.

I - I don't-

Wiggog knows, logically, that their - He isn't here. He's with Tinky, and it doesn't matter if they were in the Black or not, because Tinky didn't let him get hurt. But he still tensed and muffled his choked cries into his brother's shoulder.

I dunno!

He dissolves into tears again, letting himself get shushed.

He's not here, Wiggog. He's not. It's just me, and Blinky, and Nibbly, and Pokey. Just the five of us in Hatchetfield. I promise. OK?

He hates speaking like this. He's not had to reassure them like this in ages. It makes him sick. Wiggly's breath skips.

#tw emetophobia #tw starvation #tw implied abuse #(Again please inform me if I miss any warnings! /srs //OOC)#The Lords in Black #Wiggog Y'wrath #T'noy Karaxis #ask blog #rp blog #hatchetfield rp #Blog Event: Hatchetfield Citizens

8 notes · View notes

teal-fiend · 11 months

Text

A pred falling asleep after eating prey. Usually they’d wake up still full. Because obviously. It makes sense, it’s a big meal.

But when they wake up hungry. Maybe they digest very quickly. Or maybe they slept for a really long time, like a hibernation kind of situation.

Just. the idea that a pred can eat an entire person before going to bed, but by the time they wake up they’re completely starving. Like the prey didn’t have any impact on their hunger at all, or at least they only mattered while the pred was asleep and not even when the pred was conscious.

34 notes · View notes

the-dyke-of-handsomeness · 7 months

Text

Me after not eating anything but sour patch kids all day (it’s 6.30)

#Tw starvation #tw ed #tw sh related #tw eating issues #this implies I’m gonna eat a human #And no I’m not gonna eat I decided to starve myself

14 notes · View notes

yells-of-the-not-so-danged · 2 years

Text

sometimes you make an au so the sad sad traumatized boys from two other aus can be adopted and loved

THIS FAMILY RUNS ON DYSFUNCTION AU

details under the cut ⬇️ (warning!!dark topics! really these two come from two of the worst aus i have and you guys know how dark and angsty I'm willing to get.)

( the base idea of character A adopts different versions of B & C from different timelines comes from a batfam fanfic I read a long time ago. I don't remember the name sadly but if i ever find it I'll link it. I feel fine borrowing the general premise because this is a ninjago version so it's going to be different.)

In 1 au the FSM can see the future and sees how happy they are having a family and raising two kids. But they also see all the fate angst and so they try to outsmart the cloud kingdom by adopting two preexisting Wu & Garms rather than making their own. Except they choose the two worst (or at the very least one worst) version(s) to pick.

The Wu comes from my revamped Overlord Wins Au. In this either Garm and Wu weren't able to escape the Overlord's attack on their home or they do escape but not for long, either way they get caught. They're now prisoners and rather than killing them the Overlord decides to corrupt and torture them. They force feed them that dark matter pure evil stuff. Knowing that the evil gunk is No Good ™ Garm tries to eat both his and Wu's portions to spare Wu any of the effects it may have (they have to eat it if they want to receive other food). This speeds up Garmadon's corruption exponentially (they were still biten after all). Seeing their brother getting worse Wu subconsciously starts to use the mind aspect of his powers to calm and subdue Garm (these two are still very codependent in this au). This soon becomes Wu's defacto defense mechanism, it's basically a constant powerful aura of 'be nice to me 🥺. The Overlord is aware of Garmadon's deteriorating mental state and decides that it's a great time to sharpen them into a weapon. Basically they toss Wu in a room full of deranged starving people and tell garm to kill the people before they eat Wu.

This is where the alternate FSM steps in (the FSM that is native to the Overlord wins au is dead btw). They see all the fucked up shit and is like "Yup I'm killing the Overlord." So they grab a very confused and scared Wu and Garmadon, put them to the side, and fights the Overlord. Phase one of the fight goes well, Wu and Garm even help when it becomes clear what was happening, but Phase two is when things go BAD. Low on health and clearly losing the fight the Overlord pulls out their trump card, possessing Garm (who would have guessed). Garmadon tries to fight back but fails in the end. It's clear that the only answer now is to mercy kill them. Wu is naturally more than distraught after this and has a breakdown while desperately clutching the corpse of his brother. The FSM tries to get him to let go but Wu clings fast, completely unresponsive to anything the FSM says. Finally, the FSM picks them both up and takes them to their home universe/realm. It gets to the point where the FSM has to rip away garm's corpse from Wu's clutches so the body can be properly buried. The entire time Wu is squeezing the bloodied piece of clothing they were able to still grab hold of, eyes glossy and completely dead to the world. It's almost as if he too had died. He refuses to move from his brother's grave. FSM promises to get him a brother but Wu doesn't hear, too submerged in his grief.

-And this is where the other Garmadon comes in. Garmadon comes from a realm where oni and dragon alike are hunted, albeit oni more so what with them being demons. He and his Wu were playing in the forest around the nearby village - never *in* the village, no they had been vehemently warned against that - when Garmadon had gotten their foot snagged in a trap. It resembled a bear trap but with runes etched into it, its sharp teeth sank into Garmadon's flesh and the runes flashed. Suddenly garm was transformed into their oni form. Wu & Garm tried desperately to pull the trap's jaws open but it remaind shut. Wu lept up and rushed off to get their father, but little did the boy know that they would be too late. For nearly as soon as Wu left the oni hunters had arrived to check on their trap. They bound and gagged garm and dragged him away to their wagon where they slamed him into a small cell. Garmadon thrashed and attempted to scream for help but all their attempts were futile. (their powers haven't "come in" yet. Their father purposefully dampened them to keep accidents to a minimum) Finally the hunters arrived at a barn of sorts and threw garm's miniscule cage in with all the rest. Three days had past till Garmadon's cage was moved. They were taken to a group of people, money was exchanged and then the hunters left. Garm was freed from his cage, still bound and gagged, and had their wound looked at. Finally when dubbed in an okay condition they were dragged into a strange room. Candles lit the place and blood was scrawled on the floor in strange ornate shapes, shapes Garmadon might have spied in one of their father's many books at some point. Garmadon was positioned and chained in the middle. The group started whispering and the shapes began to glow, a figure pulled out a mighty sword and approached garm. Garmadon tugged on their chains in a panicked furver but the figure had already arrived. With a powerful thrust the sword was plunged into Garmadon's heart. The lights shine brighter and brighter as the blood splatters until Garmadon's body is barely visible, then they spark in a blinding flash and just as quickly disappear. Garmadon's body is gone. All that remains is The Sword.

The Sword is sold and is passed from many hands, and through all of it Garmadon is conscious. He can not see, can not hear, can not sleep, but he can feel. He can feel the scratches and vibrations that come with battle, he can feel shifts in temperature and the wind when a powerful swing is swung. He can feel when the wielder dares harness and use *his* power.(at this point any power dampening has been greatly reduced if not gone completely. The Sword is one of the most powerful oni blades and is greatly coveted by people across the globe)

The Sword finally finds itself after years and years and years of being passed around in the hands of a family of warriors. With every new generation Garmadon's hatred grows. Koko, the current wielder, is a vigilante of sorts. She fights for what *she* believes is right, not what some lawman says. One day she finds herself meeting an old man, a very very strange old man. He had a face you couldn't look directly at, as if it were the sun. The man asks for her sword, she says no and explains that it is a family heirloom. The old man persists in his asking and eventually Koko snaps. She yells," If you want it so bad then why don't you fight for it!?" The old man does just that.

The FSM, now in possession of The Sword, frees Garmadon from his iron prison and offers him a home. Garmadon, very confused and overwhelmed by long since dead senses returning, stumbled forward into the FSM outstretched hand. The FSM takes this as the answer they want and takes them home (the FSM's home realm). FSM takes Garm to Wu as quickly as they can. Wu looks up slightly at the name 'garmadon' and immediately comes to life again at the sight of our Garm. He rushes over and full body launches himself at garm, wrapping his arms so tightly around them that garm is legitimately having an even harder time breathing than they were before. Wu 100% believes that this is his garm, the garm that is dead. Garmadon is not aware that he is in a different realm with two different versions of his family.

This is going to be fun :)

#ninjago au #this family runs on dysfunction au #fsm #fsm ninjago #ninjago fsm #first spinjitzu master #wu ninjago #ninjago wu #young wu #young garmadon #ninjago garmadon #garmadon ninjago #overlord wins au #oni blades au #tw torture #implied torture #tw death #tw starvation #tw mental breakdown

68 notes · View notes

aca-4 · 1 year

Text

To Thaw a Frozen Heart (MLP Fanfiction)

Summary:

During a family visit to the Crystal Empire, Spike finds a starving changeling. By helping him he is forced to learn a hard lesson about friendship, family and what it takes to be a true hero.

(aka “The Times They Are a Changeling” rewritten but I added more ~drama~ and personal headcanons for more depth)

A/N: Very different from what I normally do, I know. First time writing fanfiction and in another language no less. Should have enough years of experience with English by now, but in case I made any grammatical mistakes, please do correct me; I would love to learn! Also I know I should probably be posting this on an actual fanfiction site but I don’t wanna create an account just to post this one story

Rated T

Word Count: 5.255

Genres: canon-divergent, angst with happy ending (technically includes hurt/comfort?)

Warnings: mentions of starvation

It was supposed to be a simple family visit.

Although, being the adoptive little brother of the Princess of Friendship and brother-in-law to the Princess of Love made that hard sometimes.

Trouble always seemed to find them, as if they were heroes from one of his comic books. Considering how many times they had actually saved the world (and that one time they were truly stuck in said comic book), Spike figured they might as well be.

Still, he was looking forward to the trip. Visiting his family in the far north would be a great and relaxing vacation. Even Starlight tagged along in order to visit her fillyhood friend Sunburst.

But instead of being welcomed with open arms upon arrival, they were held up by the royal guard.

A changeling had been spotted in the Crystal Empire.

The news had shocked them. The last time they saw these dangerous creatures… well, that almost had not ended well.

Obviously the royal family was distraught. They had already doubled and tripled their security, checked each and every visitor; whether it was a tourist or a resident returning home.

Twilight and Starlight immediately offered to help. Cadance said she was happy enough to have them here at all.

Her voice may have been calm as always but Spike could tell the whole situation was stressing her out. Especially with a newborn filly that had practically turned the empire into a changeling magnet with all the love that poured through the citizens.

He wanted to help, too. And it seemed the crystal guard was overjoyed to have him join their search party.

(Shining said they’d wanted him to accompany them, but deep down he was certain they were only humoring him.)

Spike somehow found himself leading the troupe in the snowy landscape, giving them directions to search this and that way.

He felt a little silly ordering them around like that.

Just a few years ago he would have happily played along with his "adoring fans" (in the only place anypony had ever treated him as a hero to begin with).

Now, as he suddenly found himself all alone in the icy mountains and freezing his scales off, he only felt like a lost little child.

Not that he was still a child, mind you! He was already a teenager in dragon years by now. Although, he had to admit, he was still lost.

And when he slipped through the snow and ended up in an empty ice cave, he was about to give up completely and just turn around.

Except the cave wasn’t empty.

And he just found the dangerous creature the guards had been looking for.

Turns out there was no threat at all.

The changeling - no, Thorax - was nothing like the changelings they’d seen back then at Shining and Cadance’s wedding.

He was still young, barely a year or two older than Spike, and he felt like an outsider in his own home. While the other changelings learned at a young age how to hunt and feed on their prey, Thorax had always found their methods to be too barbaric.

It wasn’t until his very first mission in Canterlot (to "watch how it’s supposed to be done", so he could "learn from the older ones how to do it right") that he saw what real love was.

The ponies’ friendship had inspired Thorax, but at the same time it had made him feel even more out of place in the hive.

In the end, he found he had no choice but to run away.

He’d been on quite the long journey thus far. Yet no place he visited had even let him explain himself before ponies started running or chasing him out. It must have been the recent Crystalling that had instinctively driven Thorax to go even further north.

All the while, Spike listened attentively to his story. Hearing how someone was disowned by their own kind like that brought him to tears. No one deserved that, especially not someone like Thorax.

Growing up as the only dragon among ponies, he had always been an outsider himself. But it had taught him to keep an open mind and not judge another creature by what they looked like.

Considering the way Thorax’s skinny legs were shaking (from the cold or exhaustion, he wondered?), Spike found he could believe him.

Still…

he couldn’t help but ask: “Are you not going to steal my love?"

Thorax’s eyed widened at that.

“No! I wouldn’t- I would never take it without permission!"

Huh. That he hadn’t expected.

“But isn’t that how it works?"

“Well, yes. I mean, I’m not sure- It just feels wrong to steal it."

Odd. Why was Thorax so unsure about that? Shouldn’t he know about his own species’ biology?

Then again, Spike hadn’t known until he was four years old that dragons could withstand temperature as hot as lava.

Logically it made sense now, with being able to breathe fire and all.

But at the time he had curiously crawled into the open fireplace, which had almost given his parents a heart attack as they had quickly pulled him out - only to find him completely unharmed.

(It was Twilight who had happily suggested heading to the library and looking for a book on how to properly care for a dragon. Sadly, the interspecies relations had been pretty much non-existent back then and no pony-made place could help them on the topic).

Spike shook himself out of his pondering (literally, for the freezing cold made him shiver) as another more urgent thought brought him back to the present.

“Wait, so when was the last time you ate something? I doubt you could even ask anypony before they ran off."

“Uh..." Thorax started to awkwardly rub one foreleg against the other as he thought. Then he winced and stopped. “A few days? Maybe a week…"

“An entire week?!"

“There was this one… bird on my way that offered me some love." (Spike didn’t like that pause mid-sentence, nor the image of a vulture that immediately sprung to mind.) “Tasted like pity, though. N-not that I’m complaining!"

The more Spike learned about Thorax, the more it hurt seeing him like this. He had to do something!

So he made a decision right then and there.

“That settles it! I don’t know how this works but… I hereby grant you permission to eat my love!" he declared as confidently as he could, so Thorax would accept his offer (and a little to convince himself that this wasn’t a crazy and stupid idea after all).

“Are you-" Thorax couldn’t even protest as his legs nearly gave out underneath him and Spike had to steady him.

“Yes, I’m sure!"

With the last bit of strength Thorax had left, he made a small noise of agreement before finally lighting his horn.

Poor guy wasn’t used to being treated as kindly as this, Spike thought absentmindedly. But that just made the dragon all the more determined to help.

Having his love taken from him felt… well, he wasn’t going to lie, it hurt a lot.

His head was pounding and it felt like his heart was being pulled. Or rather tugged, surprisingly gently, which was probably the least painful thing about all of this.

He wasn’t sure if the ground moved or if it was him. Everything was becoming more and more blurry, but he wasn’t about to give up.

He wanted to do this and if this is what it took to keep Thorax alive, he just had to bite his tongue and endure it a little longer.

Spike didn’t even realize it was already over until he heard Thorax’s worried voice over him (over him?) and he looked up to see the ceiling of the cave and two bright cyan eyes.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?"

Of course he would ask that. Even after almost starving to death because he absolutely refused to take any love that wasn’t given to him with consent, Thorax was still more concerned about Spike’s wellbeing than his own.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Still a little dizzy. Don’t know what I was expecting."

Spike hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen to the ground in the process. At least the snow had somewhat softened his landing.

When Thorax extended a hoof to help him up, the dragon had to do a double take. Weren’t there more holes before…?

He saved that question for some other time. There were still more important things to do first.

“You know, the others got it all wrong", Spike began. „They think they’re looking for some evil monster, but that’s not you at all."

“Well, at least you believe me. You’re the first one who even listened to me."

“And I won’t be the last!"

That concerned look was back on his face. “What?"

“You said not a single creature even let you explain your situation before the already assumed the worst, right? But if I’m there and tell them what’s up, they’ll realize there’s nothing to be afraid of and they’ll let you stay."

Thorax seemed less convinced of these words. “You really think so?"

“Well, yea-"

Spike cut himself short when he thought back to what had happened to his now sister-in-law and how she’d been trapped and replaced.

And his brother and how he’d been brainwashed.

Everypony’s reaction when Chrysalis had revealed herself.

The attack on Canterlot that had followed.

Then he looked back to Thorax, a little healthier now but still weak from almost starving. Cold and lonely and still way too nice to simply take what was needed in order to survive.

The image before him clashed horribly with his memory of the wedding.

Sure, In the end love had saved them and the changelings were quite literally sent flying back to where they had come from.

But this was Thorax.

Would they hurt and banish him as well?

“On second thought… maybe we should ease them into it.“

He’d been a fool. An utter fool to believe his presence would be enough to change everypony’s minds so easily.

It’s not like Spike hadn’t thought this through at all.

Thorax still disguised himself as a crystal pony, going by the (admittedly uncreative) alias “Crystal Hoof“. They had come up with a quick background story as well, but other than that, Thorax could just be himself.

The locals were soon very fond of him and his lovable personality and Spike had been so certain that, with a little more time, Thorax could stop hiding behind the fake pony form completely one day.

Of course things couldn’t be that simple.

Happy to have a distraction from the tense situation at hoof, Cadance was eager to invite Spike’s “pen pal“ into the palace to meet Flurry Heart. That’s when everything went downhill.

There was so much love in the room coming from both the family and close friends. It must have been too much at once for Thorax who had barely eaten anything up to that point.

Self-preservation instincts briefly got the better of him, making him reveal his true changeling form as he let out a few sharp hisses.

Everyone gasped in terror.

The guard was called immediately and in a matter of seconds they had Thorax surrounded, pointy spears directed at him. Even Cadance spread her wings, ready to fight, leaving her daughter in Sunburst’s nervous grasp.

Meanwhile, Twilight and Starlight looked ready to cast either defensive or offensive spells.

“I-I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!“ Thorax apologized meekly. But of course, nopony listened during all the commotion.

“Spike! Get away from that thing!“ Shining Armor shouted.

“Wait, you don’t understand-“

Spike’s protests fell on deaf ears as Twilight enveloped him in her magic and pulled him to her side.

Next to him, Sunburst thought something out loud about disguising itself to get to Flurry Heart, while Shining tried to interrogate the cowering changeling.

“We have you outnumbered, so don’t even try to escape. Now tell me, how did you manage to slip past our security and how many more of you are out there?“

“I’m alone! A-And I don’t want to fight!“ Thorax barely managed to stutter.

Watery cyan eyes searched for Spike, silently begging for help.

It was at that moment Spike realized what the decision he had made earlier truly meant. And there was no going back on it now.

He ran forward, placing himself between the captain of the guard and the encircled changeling.

“Stop! Can’t you see you’re scaring him?“

“He’s scared? I think I almost fainted…“ Sunburst quietly commented somewhere in the background.

Spike paid him no mind. He only focused on Shining’s reaction.

„That’s exactly what it wants you to think.“

“No no, you don’t understand! He’s my friend!“

Another round of gasps echoed through the room.

“See, it has already brainwashed you!“ Shining only yelled in return.

His concern for Spike’s safety was clear, but so were his growing frustrations with him and the deep loathing towards Thorax.

“Spike, please. It’s going to be okay. Let us handle this.“ Twilight tried to reason with him.

This time she used no magic. But he could tell by how rigid her outstretched hoof was that she’d still teleport him out of here if necessary.

Spike felt guilty for what he had to do next, especially after knowing very well how desperate Twilight had been to get everypony to believe her about the “evil Cadance“ years ago. She’d been all alone in her efforts then, but now so was Spike.

“I’m only asking this once as your older brother: Get out of the way.“

The stallion fixed him with an intense glare. Spike mirrored him, before taking a deep breath,

turning around,

and spitting out green flames.

He made sure to hit each and every one of the guards on their helmet - high enough to both miss Thorax completely and only leaving the ponies stumbling back in confusion.

“RUN!“ Was the only thing Spike could scream before Shining grabbed and pushed him to the side while using his magic to charge an attack.

For once, Thorax didn’t hesitate.

In a flash of light he turned himself into something small enough so that he was hard to catch. A buzzing noise soon faded out of the castle and the guards were left to aimlessly follow it.

An insect probably wasn’t the best choice for this climate but as long as Thorax escaped unharmed, Spike could breathe a little easier again.

It didn’t last long as Shining marched up to him and started yelling.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! Siding with the enemy? What’s gotten into you?!

“Maybe Spike’s been captured and replaced by a changeling?“ Sunburst piped up before immediately being shushed by Starlight. The mare still had her horn lit up for a spell of some kind.

Both were ignored by the arguing siblings.

“He’s not evil! All he wanted was to make friends and you attack him! He could have gotten hurt!“

“WE could have gotten hurt! Don’t you remember what happened the last time we saw changelings?“

Of course he did.

He had been much younger then, still not used to all the adventures he’d suddenly been dragged into alongside his sister. When Chrysalis had revealed herself, all he could do was stand there and watch.

He’d been too scared to move or even make a noise. While Twilight and her friends had been out there fighting, he’d hidden behind Cadance, lucky enough not to have been put into a cocoon like Princess Celestia.

Even the bride, glued to the spot with whatever that gooey substance was, had still looked fierce.

But exactly that had been the problem, hadn’t it? Unlike the others, he didn’t spring into action. He was only ever on the sidelines watching and playing moral support, because what else could he do?

It’s why he never got called a hero.

And now that he could be one, he’s being told he’s doing something wrong.

The one time someone truly needs him and he knows he can help, they tell him he shouldn’t.

As it turns out, a real hero doesn’t simply fight for what others think is good, but for what he knows deep down in his very soul is the right thing.

Even if it means he has to do it on his own.

“I don’t know how often I have to tell you this,“ Spike tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, “but Thorax is nothing like that. You would know that if you actually talked to him.“

“It’s been telling you lies then! And if the Crystal Empire ends up under attack because you chose to pity that creature-“

Shining fell silent when his wife laid one steady hoof on his shoulder.

“Dear, that’s enough“ Cadance told him gently but stern, and, internally fuming, he eventually listened.

The situation had been a lot for her as well.

If anything, Cadance should hate changelings the most. But she was the Princess of Love for a reason, and it seemed impossible for her to hold a grudge for as long as her husband apparently could.

Twilight was the next one to try and mediate between the two.

“Spike, it is very noble of you to stand up for a friend like that, and I know you just wanted to help, but we can’t be certain yet if that changeling really is as innocent as he claims to be. For all we know, he could have brainwashed you with his magic.“

Her concern was evident but Spike could tell she was still not getting it.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?“ He didn’t mean to show how hurt he truly was but his voice betrayed him.

Suddenly, the room that had been filled with so much noise just minutes ago, fell very quiet.

“Of course I believe you“ Twilight reassured him, “It’s just that…“

“You think I’m still just a dumb kid“ Spike finished for her.

“I never said-“

“The guards did the same thing earlier, don’t think I didn’t notice that! I know you’re just looking out for me - and I’m grateful for that! - but you have to understand, Thorax doesn’t have family or friends like you. He’s all by himself, so if I didn’t help him, no one would. F-For crying out loud, when I found him he was starving-!“

Spike choked on his last words. He didn’t even want to imagine what might have happened if he hadn’t met Thorax at all.

Another very worrisome thought raced through his mind at that: If love fed him, what would hatred do to him?

“Spike…“ He ignored Twilights attempt to comfort him.

“I have to find him“ he whispered to himself and ran off without another word.

Everypony else remained frozen in place. None of them knew what to say after all of that.

“Just so you know…“ Starlight eventually spoke into the silent room, „he wasn’t under any form of mind control.“

Everypony’s heads turned to look at the unicorn in confusion.

“I checked if there were any foreign spells cast on him while you were distracted by your arguing“ she elaborated. “Just figured you, uh, might want to know that.“

“That means he really was acting on what he felt in his heart was the right thing“ Cadance concluded. After a beat of silence, she looked out of the window and added: “Looks like the wind is picking up. I fear a storm might gather.“

Twilight and Shining looked at each other then, both their emotions now settled down.

“We should look for him. Make sure he doesn’t get caught in a snow storm out there.“

“Spike or the changeling?“ Twilight dared to ask.

Shining left without answering.

Spike found him in the same place they had met hours ago.

Thorax was lying all alone in the cold snow, covered head to hoof in holes, and for a moment the dragon feared he was already too late.

But at the call of his name, Thorax stirred and just barely lifted his head. He looked more sick than ever.

Spike was at his side right away, gently holding the changeling’s head and resting his own forehead against his.

Neither of them had to say anything as Thorax already fed on the love he was being given.

It didn’t hurt this time. Probably because Spike was practically giving out all his heart - a strong push instead of the pull from before.

The effect was more positive as well, reducing the amount of unsettling holes until they only reached just above the knees.

Spike leaned back after Thorax finally recovered but kept his claws cupped around the other’s cheeks.

He still couldn’t believe how anyone could be so cruel towards someone this kind.

If only he had known what such direct exposure to hatred would do to a changeling…

“I’m so sorry about all of that. I didn’t think they’d go so far.“

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect it to go well anyways. I’m just so glad to have you as my friend.“ The small but genuine smile Thorax gave him right then could have thawed all the ice in the mountains. Or maybe it was just Spike’s face that suddenly felt warm.

Their quiet moment together got interrupted by hoofsteps trudging through the snow.

Thorax tensed up at the unexpected sound while Spike couldn’t decide whether he should stand up and get ready to fight or keep Thorax close to him.

He ended up with one claw clenched to a fist and the other pulling Thorax closer protectively, but relaxed slightly when instead of an armed guardspony he only saw Twilight.

“Thank Celestia, there you are…“ she breathed out in relief.

Her mane was disheveled and the scarf she was wearing looked like it was haphazardly thrown around her neck in a hurry.

She wasted no time in pulling Spike in for a hug and quickly checking if he was alright.

“Wh- What are you doing here?“ Spike asked, more hostile than he’d meant to.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you two. The weather is getting worse and I don’t want you to get stuck out here during a snow storm.“

“Wait, both of us?“

Twilight nodded in that curt, polite and princess-ly manner she’d picked up over the years since she became an alicorn. Despite the seemingly detached formality, her eyes shone with an honest kindness.

“Well, I’m not leaving without Thorax“ Spike made clear as he freed himself from her embrace. “So I’m not going anywhere unless he’s allowed to come as well.“

Another nod.

“I understand. I also just wanted to say, I’m really sorry about before.“ She made sure to address both of them. “I didn’t even consider the possibility of a changeling being friendly. I was too caught up in the moment and didn’t listen to what you had to say.“

Twilight raised her hoof in an invitation then.

“So if you’ll allow me, could we start over?“

She looked directly at Thorax this time, a hopeful and almost sheepish expression on her face.

Thorax couldn’t quite believe what he heard. He quickly looked at Spike for confirmation before he got up and shook the alicorn’s hoof.

„I’m Thorax.“

„Twilight Sparkle. A pleasure to meet you.“

Thorax visibly relaxed at the quiet echo of emotions passing him by. Still hesitant, ever so slightly afraid, but also clearly willing to put any prejudices aside and get to know him if her actions were anything to go by.

Spike noticed the more confident posture his friend had; head held higher and ears perked up. It made him feel at ease, as well, knowing that he’d at least managed to change one pony’s mind about Thorax.

The feeling didn’t last long, however, as Twilight spoke again: “I’ll let Shining know I found you, so he can stop the search.“

She lit up er horn and let the magic wander to its tip. It formed a small magenta light orb, then floated away through the cave’s entrance.

Spike had never seen her cast that particular spell before but he didn’t like what it implied.

“You’re not gonna lead him here and let him capture Thorax, are you?“ The changeling in question let out a small scared noise at that.

“Of course not“ Twilight was quick to calm him. “But he was worried about you, Spike. And it’s still him you have to convince about Thorax.“

“You should just go without me then.“ Thorax suggested all of a sudden, much to Spike’s surprise.

“What? You can’t stay out here in the cold all by yourself!“

“I’ve managed a few nights before. Besides, you’ve already done so much for me. I don’t want to cause you any more problems with your family.“

“First of all, none of that was your fault! And secondly, when I said I was going to help you, I meant it. That includes getting you out of this freezing cold.“ Spike paused briefly as he considered the probability of actually finding a better shelter in case things didn’t work out with the Crystal Empire, and looked to his sister for aid. “Right, Twilight?“

“I’ll… see what I can do about that“ she chuckled.

She didn’t have that much political influence, at least not in this kingdom, but she figured trying was the least she could do. She owed it to them.

The wind howled outside as the three of them stood there inside the cave, waiting for the inevitable confrontation they still had to face.

The darkness creeping in made everything look a little eerie. Yet, when Spike shuddered, it wasn’t out of fear.

After everything that had happened, he completely forgot why dragons lived far in the south again. He was rudely reminded when the frost started to bite at the tip of his claws.

Twilight only wordlessly took off her scarf and wrapped it around him when she noticed.

The peaceful atmosphere changed when a new voice resounded through the stone walls.

“Twilight? Spike? Are you in there?“

Thorax immediately ducked his head when he recognized the stallion making his way towards them. Spike was shielding his friend from the new threat in a matter of seconds.

Despite his strong built, Shining Armor wouldn’t even have looked that menacing. Like Twilight’s, his mane was ruffled from the weather outside; Snowflakes were stuck to the blue strands and slowly melting.

He really didn’t seem all that intimidating until he laid eyes on Thorax, and the changeling felt like he was staring right at his soul and judging him with his piercing eyes.

Further back, more hoofsteps followed. Thorax let out an involuntary whimper at the memory of all the guards that had cornered him.

The captain, standing tall in front of the unlikely friends, turned around to give new orders. Spike listened with bated breath as the other stallions were told to fall back and return to the palace.

When Shining faced them again, he addressed his little brother first.

“Could you move out of the way?“

“What are you going to do?“

Spike stood his ground while Twilight kept her distance. Shining did search for her gaze briefly but she only gave him a knowing look, silently telling him she’d done her part to make things right. Now it was his turn.

“I just want to talk.“

Spike frowned at him and wavered slightly. He really wanted to believe he got through to Shining after all, but the prior events still made him worry for Thorax.

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong again? That I don’t know what I’m doing? That I should stay away from my friend?“ He was still bitter about their argument and didn’t hide it. He’d felt so betrayed when his own family, the very ponies that had taken him in when he was a baby, were acting so hostile.

He’d always thought ponies could be easily swayed with something as sappy as a song, but today proved it was nowhere near as simple.

“Actually, I’m the one who was wrong. And I want to apologize. To both of you.“

The two were baffled at that. Whatever nasty remarks Spike had planned to say remained unspoken as he let Shining continue.

“I did what I thought was right in order to protect my kingdom, but I didn’t realize I would hurt my family in the process. Spike, I want you to know that I don’t ever want to keep you from making your own choices. You clearly see something in this changeling that I don’t. And while I still don’t fully trust him, I do trust you. So if you say he’s your friend, I will treat him as such.“

Somehow, Shining Armor, captain of the guard and co-ruler of the Crystal Empire, had never looked so small. Maybe it was because he truly felt guilty for his actions. Or maybe because he only allowed himself to show weakness in private conversations like this one.

Either way, Thorax could sense the stallion’s faint emotions. All the burning wrath from before had long simmered down and instead all he found was unconditional love and care for his family. (He wished, someday, someone would direct these emotions at him.)

“So you’ll give him a chance?“ Spike asked, almost afraid to be hopeful, but also finally lowering his guard.

Shining nodded firmly, then looked at the changeling cautiously stepping out of his hiding spot behind Spike.

“So, you’re Thorax, right?“

His eyes widened just a little before he gave an awkward reply.

“Yes. I, uh… come in peace?“

Shining almost laughed at that. Almost. But it was enough to ease his stress and make his lips form a tiny smile for the first time that day.

Thorax ended up staying in the palace with permission (and for the first few weeks under supervision) from the royals themselves.

Spike had wanted him to come with them to Ponyville at first, but then he remembered how prone the locals were to herd panic.

At least in the Crystal Empire news about a changeling wouldn’t spread so fast to other places.

Besides, Thorax himself had insisted on staying as far away from his former home as possible, still unsure and a little scared if Chrysalis would send someone after him for treason.

At least among the friendly faces of the crystal ponies he felt more like he belonged than anywhere else before.

That feeling wasn’t mutual at first, but eventually the royals as well as the rest of the empire warmed up to their new resident.

Even Sunburst, despite his previous fears, was surprisingly the most interested in learning about Thorax. Twilight and him occasionally exchanged notes on the positive effect sharing love had on their changeling friend compared to the rest of his kind after Spike had mentioned his own observations.

As for the friends themselves, they kept in touch by frequently writing letters to each other. (Twilight was absolutely thrilled to let Spike borrow her special “Pen Pal Quill Set“ to do so.)

It took a while to get to where they were now. It certainly wasn’t easy, either.

But it gave Spike hope that maybe one day Thorax could come visit him in Ponyville. And this time when he introduced him, his friend would receive nothing but love.

——

MLP:FiM and its characters belong to Hasbo

I only own the artwork and (I still can’t believe I’m saying this) the story

#mlp fim #story + art #fanfiction #right after i told myself i'd never write any xD #tw: mentions of starvation #changelings are starved love bugs headcanon #implied queerplatonic(?) Spike and Thorax #no seriously there is something implied here but i don't know what it is myself #this is why i'm an artist not an author #no beta because i'm too shy to ask anyone

32 notes · View notes

watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees · 3 months

Text

My other half

the very first chapter of this story

tw: implied kidnapping, captivity, implied domestic violence, starvation, shock collar use, manipulation, lady whump

There was a clumsy knock at the door. When Claire’s mom opened it, she found Lucas standing on the porch, trying to adjust a bouquet of roses. He was Claire’s partner of a few years, fiancé of a couple of months. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that he showed up at their doorstep, when Claire spent the weekend home, to surprise her.

“-evening Mrs. D!” he smiled following a passing look of confusion as to why she was the one opening the door “I thought I’d drop this off”

“Luke, what a surprise! Is Claire coming home later then?” she asked, reaching for the flowers.

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to her today, I just wanted to surprise her, it’s really hard on her that she can’t help out with all the renovations”

“All that stress! She really shouldn’t take on this in her state” she took a step back “Come on in, you can wait for her inside”

“Did she say when she’s gonna be back?” Luke asked as he stepped over the threshold into the hallway.

“No, last week we agreed you two would come over this afternoon together, with all her things” he could barely hear the end of the sentence, because his soon-to-be mother-in-law was already in the kitchen, presumably continuing with where she left off doing the dishes.

“Last week? Didn’t she say anything before she left today?” he yelled as he took off his shoes.

“What?” he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t she say anything today?” he repeated.

“What do you mean?” she looked up at him, just as confused.

“Before she left today?” he tried again.

“Left? She wasn’t here” Luke frowned.

“She came over yesterday afternoon. Didn’t she?” They stared at each other for a long moment. Claire wasn’t at the new place with Luke yesterday. She wasn’t at home either.

Luke put the flowers down on the kitchen counter and grabbed his phone from his pocket to start calling Claire.

“She’s not picking up” he stared at his phone as it went to voicemail. He dialled again. Claire wasn’t in the best shape the past few weeks. She had violent nightmares almost every night, sometimes she was barely able to tell reality from dream. Once she fell down the stairs at their new place, almost breaking her arm, but getting away with a bunch of large bruises. Noone knew what set all this off, that’s why she was advised to move back in with her parents, because they could care for her better than Luke, who beyond his studies at the medical college worked part time at an electronics store.

Or at least she was supposed to move back.

“I’ll try to call as well” Neither of them moved from the kitchen for a good long while, leaving calling and calling, leaving voicemails after one another. When Claire’s dad got home from work, he joined as well “I’ll call her therapist” he suggested. Luke called around her friends, although she hasn’t spent much time with them lately, and he had a feeling suggesting Claire isn’t with her friends, he had to try.

“We have to call the police” her mom whispered finally, her face white as a ghost. Luke and his father-in-law agreed.

The dispatcher picked up on the fourth ring, and asked what they can help with. After a brief introduction to the situation, they advised the family to come to the station to provide their statements so they can report her missing.

The first time it was said out loud, that Claire is missing, it made no sense to any of them. As days went on, its reality set in. She was nowhere to be found.

The dingy old car pulled up to the house with unmistakable noise. He stepped out, and slammed the door in, with no care in the world. He was in the middle of the forest, at his great aunt’s property. No civilization in any direction for miles.

It was rather cold inside, as he opened the door he made a mental note to bring some firewood inside later. He hung his jacket next to the door and headed inside. Took a quick glance at the empty living room and turned right, fumbling a bit with his keys he opened the door to the basement.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl lying in the middle of the room. She shuddered as she heard his voice, but didn’t seem to have enough energy to answer or move.

He walked downstairs, and crouched down next to her, checking on the chains keeping her from moving away from the middle of the room where a hook was installed in the cement.

He petted her head gently, trying to coax some kind of reaction out of her.

She was lying on the concrete floor for days now without food or sleep. There was a shock collar on her neck that went off periodically keeping her up. She was at the point, where she'd seen more things that didn't belong there than she perceived reality.

"Hey, I asked something" he laughed softly, but stopped petting her head to reach into his pocket for the remote to the collar. She twitched in her whole body, when she breathed in to try to answer, granted she already forgot the question.

"I-i-i, don-know wha-what-sh happening" she stuttered barely audibly.

"Can you tell me who you are?" the voice asked from above. Something changed in the voice, but she couldn't make out what, she barely understood the words.

"I'm, I'm..." She did not remember. All she knew was the cold concrete under her body and the cold blue eyes watching from above.

“That’s alright, love” Luke hushed, almost proud of her. He unlocked the chains around her limbs and lifted her up.

She was laid on something soft, something that smelled familiar. It was good. She heard a click and her collar was lifted from her neck, leaving the skin vulnerable under it.

"You can rest now, sweetheart” he cooed into her ear softly "You will get something to eat tomorrow too" And she finally closed her eyes, immediately falling asleep.

He just watched her. She was so pure, sleeping on the bed buried under the sheets. She seemed dangerously thin and fragile, but she was perfect now. He was honestly intrigued to know how much she'll remember, when he let her recover for a while. He couldn't take her back to their place again, which he did a few times before, when he brought her here. She was officially missing. He was leading search groups every evening he could manage, while also spending time with her parents, he was her fiancé after all.

#whump #danse macabre original story #oc whump #tw manipulation #tw kidnapping #tw implied abuse #tw captivity #tw shock collar #tw starvation #lady whump

2 notes · View notes

lingeringscars · 11 months

Text

Ben 🤝 akilah 🤝 mari

Surviving s2 death allegations

Hallucinating for months because of starvation

#ooc.#starvation tw #thinking about mari hearing the drip early in s2 and it being implied that she has for a while #akilah had the mouse for a long time too #ben hallucinated through most of this season

7 notes · View notes

rottmnt-anariaverse · 11 months

Note

Question for Bishop:

What exactly was the purpose of your experiments? What hypotheses were you testing?

Wouldn't it have been more useful to make sure that your subject wasn't malnourished, as that would skew results?

#anariaverse #rottmnt au #rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt bishop #tmnt bishop #implied abuse #implied starvation #ask to tag #tw bad science #← adding this half as a joke half so donnie ninjaturtles doesn't come into my house tonight to hunt me for sport #rottmnt ask blog

5 notes · View notes

surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year

Text

Foolish Dreams

TW: Implied past torture & captivity (choking, bruises, scratching), touch-starvation, being guarded due to past trauma, kinda emotional???

Full credit to @shywhumpauthor for this prompt. I hope this is a good read!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♤♤♤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They thought they were over it. That it was just another fleeting emotion they could ignore. A frivolous want they could quite easily live without. After all, Whumpee had managed to function even with a scarce amount of their basic needs.

Sure, they'd already been with Caretaker for well over six months, but that didn't mean that all the scars from their past had been completely erased. Time isn't magical enough to make everything fade. This time; however, it wasn't thet they were in physical pain, aside from the usual come-and-go tension in their muscles, partially from apprehension and totally from their past torment.

It was a different kind of ache, something that plagued their soul, a monster lurking in the darkest corners of their mind. It made their chest tighten and their breathing go shallow just thanking about it. Like an itch they couldn't scratch.

They longed for a gentle touch. They didn't have anything specific they wished for, just whatever they could get to cater to their insatiable craving. It was something they could never do for themselves. It made them feel weak and desperate. Much like an animal trapped in a cage trying to claw its way out to no avail.

All they had to do was ask Caretaker. They'd gotten better at that. But they'd only ever asked for things they'd needed. Like help with stitches where they couldn't reach because the consequence of attempting that by themselves would be their death or severe blood loss if they were fortunate. Dire needs.

Caretaker had managed to slowly coax some of their wants out of them, but there was a major difference between what they liked on their pancakes and. . .this.

It wasn't just their pride that stood in their way, rather, it was a much deeper concern. The thought of someone else touching them for longer than was needed, for something unnecessary, made their skin crawl. It felt far too reminiscent of their time with Whumper, where they would have given anything to be free of that monster's touch, of the nails that dug into their fresh cuts, the fingers that wrapped around their neck, leaving deep purple bruises in their wake. They'd come to make synonyms of the words 'touch' and 'pain'.

But today, even the memories of their captivity couldn't torture them out of this.

"Whumpee? Is everything alright, love?"

Caretaker's gentle voice snapped them back to reality, and they turned their attention to them instead of the movie they'd pretty much drowned out anyway.

"Yeah. I'm fine," they replied evenly, their voice a million times calmer than the crashing waves of an overwhelming amount of emotions in their head.

Caretaker sighed deeply, the look in their eyes a clear indication of the number of times they'd had to deal with Whumpee's well-feigned stoicism. "Whumpee, you know you can talk to me about anything that troubles you, right?"

"Yes, I know," they snapped, and it came out much harsher than they'd intended. "This is just. . ." they faltered, and finally whatever resistance inside of them was obliterated.

"I-I know you'll probably think I'm just pathetic, but I don't care. I'd do anything for it, but please, please just hold me. Just a touch beyond necessity, anything, please. I'm not picky, jus-just PLEASE DO IT! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, CARETAKER, PLEASE!"

Their lip quivered violently, and it had taken them a moment to register that they were crying as fresh, hot tears rolled down their cheeks and wet their shirt.

It had been so long since Caretaker had seen Whumpee's gaze fall downcast or heard them beg for something. It broke their heart, but they couldn't just watch.

Slowly, with just a small amount of trepidation, they reached out for them, pulling them close into their arms, letting them rest their head into the crook of their neck. As expected, Whumpee flinched violently, but they actually made no effort to leave Caretaker's embrace.

After a few solid minutes of crying, Whumpee let go, pulling out some tissue paper from the box near them and wiping their face.

Once they'd calmed down, Caretaker put each of their hands down on their shoulders, exchanging glances with them to silently ask if it was okay.

Whumpee flinched again, though less intense as the first time, but they nodded their affirmative, and Caretaker gently began to knead the corded tension out of their shoulders.

Even Whumpee themselves was shocked at how fast they melted into the touch. They couldn't actually believe what they'd been depriving themselves of, for so long, when it had been at their fingertips this whole time, all they had to do was ask. Okay, to their credit, maybe it wasn't that simple. It had felt like having to move mountains of trauma. But the way the tightness blissfully dissipated from their muscles and how Caretaker was concerned enough to ask what felt too soft to be relieving and what felt rough enough to be slightly too painful, just the fact that they genuinely cared made it seem all the more worthwhile.

Whumpee had relaxed enough to close their eyes, to go completely boneless under their touch. . .the same Whumpee that still slept with one eye open and a penknife near them on their worst days. It sparked a few tears of joy to prick at Caretaker's eyes.

Whumpee turned to them, and a rare smile found its way onto their lips. "Thank you," they breathed out, and they meant it with every fibre of their being.

"Don't mention it, lovely. Anytime you need this, just ask me. I've been meaning to for a while actually, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You're never a burden, Whumpee, especially not when it comes to something like this," they replied, voicing out Whumpee's internal fears.

"Besides, you look adorable like this, so why wouldn't I want to?" they added, grinning.

Whumpee laughed softly as Caretaker continued rubbing their shoulders.

Sometimes, it was okay to let down your guard. To break down reinforced concrete walls of indifference built by years of pain. With the right person, you could learn to live freely again, without the shackles of constant anxiety and apprehension. It is true that a simple touch does not possess the power to erase all the scars of the past, but it could tremendously improve the present.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

47 notes · View notes