A/N: Hi guys! Another long time since I updated, :;(∩'﹏'∩);: but it's better than an indefinite hiatus. Well, in other news, I blame Pokémon Pearl and Soulsilver. (⊙...⊙ ) I had bought used ones a year ago.... and forgot that they existed, until now. So! I kinda.... forgot to update, bc of them... yeah... (;° ロ°)
But!!! I made a Playlist! o((*^▽^*))o
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLuIQFU_3-qrN0qryIkTyzJKm80kDqdDxH
Have at it, my friends! ٩(๑ơలơ)۶♡
The boy, simply fell onto his back with an 'oof!' He groaned, while rubbing the non-bandaged side of his head in annoyance. You were so weird. You cut him off, then attacked him, then you healed him, then you had the audacity to tell him his real name wasn't his, and when he lost control of his glitching.....
You hugged him.
You. Hugged. Him.
Back at the Mansion, no one ever did that. Lost Silver tried to do it, for no reason. BEN patted him on the shoulder, and that was it. Most of the other denizens looked at him with disdain. Like they did with the other's under Herobrine's watch. The only ones that never got those looks were BEN, BRVR, and Sonic.exe. In other words, no one else hugged him.
Especially, when he was having one of his so-called 'episodes.' Lost Silver would disappear, whenever it happened. When he first showed up to the Mansion, RED felt guilty for making the soft-spoken denizen sad. But, time went on, and with it, his patience and empathy. A part of RED believed it had to do with how unapproachable he was. How was he supposed to be? Everyone wanted to kill people, he just wanted to get back at his players, and maybe his creator. Even BEN started killing people. At least Lost Silver just wanted to exist and play games with him, that was fun.
RED scratched at his head, before wincing; he scratched the injured side of his head. He grumbled before leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed. You were an enigma, no one liked him, you didn't. But you still helped him during his episode. That's what surprised him the most.
RED paused.
Wait.
You stopped his episode... How did you do that?
RED looked down at his hands. He was together, fully together. Parts of him weren't scattered all over your bedroom, for him to gather while in insurmountable pain. Most of the time, he couldn't find the pieces. Worst of all, he wouldn't have gone into such a state if you would have just kept your pretty little mouth shut. But no, you just had to get him worked up, didn't you?
He huffed, but he had no reason to stay mad. You fixed your mistake, RED yelling at you would just make him feel like jerk. If he didn't feel like one already.
Or maybe the weird thing that just happened between you two, just made him really soft.
RED grumbled, forcing his face into his hands. He's doomed.. Everyone at the Mansion mentioned how dangerous it was to interact closely with the players. It did things to you, made you soft. Like a drug.
Red never understood the comparison.... Until now.
The warmth you radiated... had something to do with how stopped the glitches. It... ignited something in him. Like a fire, but it was a heartbeat.
RED pressed a hand to his chest.
Ba...bump....ba....bump....
RED sucked in a breath.
There was a heartbeat
Before he was stuck with you and your attitude, his chest never beat. It was empty, like was supposed to be. He wasn't warm in the beginning. He was burning, without the warm. He always felt like he was burning but he was cold at the same time.
That's why he like being angry, it was better than feeling empty all the time; it was the first emotion he felt.
RED hummed again, he laid his head sideways on his knees, before looking up at the wall of your bedroom. Pictures and posters tacked all over , covered your wall, in what he guessed was your favorite color. RED guessed a few of the posters for Pokémon, he grumbled at the new games. The style had changed, now looking vastly different from his game. There were other posters, including one for that 'squid' game, BEN mentioned. RED was confused by it, honestly.
You were weird.
"Players are weird," RED said, to an empty room.
-
You padded your way into the living room, falling backwards into the couch. Your breathing was all over the place.
What, with great emphasis, the fuck, just happened.
The guy, 'Red' as he called himself you remembered, got pissed, like a kid in CoD mad. Up to and including the cutting out, verbally and physically. To the point of physically hurting himself with some type of panic attack and you needed to calm him down.
All because you and your mouth.
He was friends, albeit a crappy friend, with the no-name kid, you named Gold. Maybe, 'Gold' told him that you called him that, maybe 'Red' is a big fan of Pokémon Red, Blue, and (possibly) Green.
Maybe he also had no name.
You grumbled at the thought, who doesn't name their kids? You're pretty sure, even orphanages name the kids that are dropped off on doorsteps are named, too.
Maybe the boys forgot their real names... because of trauma?
You scratched your head at the thought. It could be possible, people forget traumatic experiences; it's a survival technique. You shuddered at the thought, what could be so traumatizing, that the boys forgot their names-
Your stomach growled in response. You fell back onto the sofa. You grabbed a pillow and smacked yourself. You forgot that you needed to make dinner.
You got up and walked into the kitchen. Your hands opened the cupboards. Eyes scanned the various ingredients, almost beckoning the approval of stimulus for the desire for food. You groaned as you sifted through the various contents stacked inside the cupboard.
You were about to give up, when your eyes landed upon a loaf of brioche with chocolate chips in it. The smile, that creeped upon your face, bordered on criminal.
-
RED was awoken upon a sensation. No normal sensation, he was aware of. It came from his nose.
'It's called sense of smell,' BEN said rolling his eyes, RED recalled.
RED remembered the first thing he had smelled, it was horrible experience. The Mansion, usually clean with a stark medical smell. BEN often described it as smelling like a hospital but looking like an abandoned house. RED never understood why BEN shuddered at the mention of 'hospital.' Very confusing.
Anyway, the apparent horrible smell, in question, was a rotting dead body somebody left in a closet and promptly forgot. BEN explained that whenever there is a newcomer, the denizens start a phase of something called 'hazing.' Where they push around the newcomer, harassing or scaring them. The dead body in the closet was for him to discover. Sadly, he smelled it, before he saw it. It was still horrifying, but that was only the beginning--
RED shook his head. This smell wasn't horrible, it didn't causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust. It did not make him want to wretch the stomach he did not have.
*grumble*
Wait, what was that?
It growled again, whatever it was. Vibrations shuddered to the growl, from his abdomen. Then suddenly, pain spiked, it was not enough to cripple RED. After picking up pieces of himself for the longest time, as well as other things, one develops a certain pain tolerance. It just annoyed him.
But it still surprised him, it felt like the lower part of his being, was trying to eat itself. Growling like a hungry animal. Suddenly, the wonderful smell became intoxicating.
It angered him.
RED stomped out of your room, seeking to find the source of the seductive scent. The scent grew stronger and stronger... until he found himself in your kitchen. Your back facing him, as you dipped something into a shiny bowl. RED felt his anger simper down, hearing you hum a song, while doing such a bizarre task. A familiar tune, just at the tip of his tongue.
Something sizzled in the the pan left of you. You turned yourself from the bowl, focusing on the pan. You picked up a spatula, laying on a some type of paper rag. As you turned your spatula to the pan, RED finally got a look at what you had going in the pan.
It looked like a burnt square, he heard you curse under your breath.
"*mumble grumble*.... too long! Nice going." RED tilted his head at your frustration.
"Too... long? What are you doing?" It took everything not to burst out laughing, at your reaction. You shrieked, practically jumping into the air. Nearly knocking the pan, and its contents onto the floor. Thankfully, you fumbled to grab the pan stopping it from finding itself fated to the floor. Sadly, after watching the pitiful display, RED couldn't help but laugh. He wiped a stray tear from his eye as he crumpled to the floor. When he finally got a look at you, he noticed the face that painted your feature had at somepoint changed from fear to shock.
Your face changed from shock, to puffing up in annoyance at your guest's action. You ran up to him, still laughing, flicking his head. Rewarding you with a small 'ow!' He pouted at you in response, your cheeks puffed up more in response. He sputtered before laughing again. You stomped your foot in response.
"What's so funny, big guy?!" He wasn't much taller than you, but still held ground. His laughs grew louder, at the rate he was going, you were sure he was going to die by suffocation. Let him suffer, said your inner pettiness.
"You.... you.. *gasp* You look... *gasp* ... like an angry Jigglypuff!" 'Red' fell onto his back, doing in a literal case of ROFL. You sputtered at his words, before balling your fists up.
"I'll show you, who's the Jigglypuff!" you howled, before pouncing on him. You began jabbing him everywhere on his chest, smiling. The boy howled in laughter enough, you guessed, to pass the threshold of 'can't stop laughing' to 'I'm laughing so much my insides hurt.' He struggled to keep up with your fast jabs, attempting to push them away, but smiling while doing so. At somepoint you erupted in laughter.
Eventually you both stopped, gasping for air, like you were underwater for a long time. 'Red' looked up, from the floor, at you, who was leaning over him. You responded to his look with confusion, before raising an eyebrow and smirking.
"Who's the Jigglypuff, now?" Red pouted, his crimson orbs squinting, focusing on something else. His hand gripped his chin. He pretended to ponder.
"Hmm.... Studies show... that you are... still a Jigglypuff!" He smirked at you, even if he was still below you. You wrinkled your face in annoyance, before smacking him in the chest with your palm. The force of your hand knocked the air out of him, but he began laughing again. "Okay! Okay! You're not a Jigglypuff! Maybe.... Clefairy?" You smiled at that.
"That... is sufficient." You crossed your arms over your chest, nose high in the air, "I'll take that over Jigglypuff." He smirked, you raised an eyebrow. It suddenly got quiet after your reply, neither of you had anything else. Your nose twitched at a smell that began permeate the area. You watched as gears turned in Red's head.
"What's that smell?" The fire alarm above the stove answered that question. It blared out, echoing through the quiet villa.
"My french toast!"
You rushed up to your feet, turning off the stove.
"No no no no no!" You rushed to the window over the sink and opened said window. You aired out the room with a makeshift fan, made of three important looking envelopes labelled to your parents.
After the smoke had been banished out the window, you hoped none of the neighbors witnessed the smoke. You turned to the remains of what was supposed your dinner.
"My french toast..." Your lip quivered, before giving the remains of french toast a well due funeral.... into the trash. you tilted the pan into the trash. The crumbled blackened ash, whose destiny, to be your dinner, careened into the ever growing garbage pile. "Good night, sweet prince. You would've been a great meal." You felt a stray tear trail down your cheek.
"Are you done?" You sighed as realized you weren't alone in the room. You turned your head to face your guest, who was simply looking around the room.
"It's gone," you raised an eyebrow. He continued, "the smell, it's gone. The one before the other one." You smacked your face with your palm. Universe give you strength.
"That former smell, that was my french toast. I was hungry, so I made some." his eyes widened, you noticed a drip of drool dribble down his chin. Gross
You might of lost your appetite.
.... On second thought, nah, you're still hungry. You grumbled as your own stomach began figuratively sucker punching you for not giving it sustenance. You turned back to the eggwash, glancing at the loaf of brioche. You were still determined to make the damn french toast
You ate around three-to-four slices of brioche, you usually cooked the whole loaf. The rest, became leftovers you would leave for lunch or breakfast. You had burnt the three, the fourth one is probably becoming one with the eggwash now. You leaned over the bowl. You jabbed at the piece with your spatula, hoping it would stay together. It stayed together, the fight against hunger was still in progress!
After washing your hands, you grabbed the slice with your thumb and index finger. You flung it onto the pan. You turned on the stove, as your guest watched in amazement. As you waited on the brioche french toast to cook, you checked the egg wash.
It was low, but you expected much. Considering it was better to just add mix as you made the toast.
You grabbed an egg and cracked it into the bowl, flinging the shell into the trash. A dash of milk and vanilla extract, all spice, nutmeg, and that ground maple cinnamon your mother still forgot to use for those maple bacon snickerdoodles she kept saying she would make.
Armed with a table spoon, you stirred the concoction. Gradually, you weren't trying to wisk it, just mix it enough the ingredients were dispersed evenly in volume. When you were done, you sunk a slice into the goo. You checked on the sponge slice, the pan was finally hot. You poked the slice, to if it was still glued to the pan. It moved.
You fumbled it around the pan, attempting to get the spatula underneath the slippery slice. It was usually the reason why your french toast always looked burnt. Don't worry though, you did eventually flip it.
-
Meanwhile, your guest was bewildered into silence. The movements and actions, both so alien. Yet they were innately familiar.
RED sat in front of a wooden table. Two placemats sat out with matching plates, for the only two people who mattered.
A woman hummed a tune, in the background. A heavenly smell emanated the area.
RED drummed the butts his silverware onto the wooden table. He was being patient, but he still couldn't wait! He was hungry!
'ding!'
"It's done!" RED shivered in his seat. Finally! It felt like he had waited ages.
The woman pulled the casserole out of the oven, leaning over it to get a whiff of the heavenly scent. She walked over to the table, setting the casserole in the middle of the table. RED jumped up.
"Can I have some?!" The woman chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm.
"Of course, my dear, just a moment," Her warm hand gently pushed the boy back down into his seat. He shivered in anticipation.
The woman cut out a moderate piece of the casserole, first, for herself and then for RED. She scooped out a few vegetables, before handing the boy his plate. RED yanked the plate out of her hand, a few pieces of steamed vegetables spilling onto the table. The woman chuckled as the boy in question, wolfed down his dinner. She ate her dinner in moderate pace.
'clank!'
"I am FINISHED!" the boy yelled in determination, the woman chuckled. The boy paused, before looking at the woman, "thank you for the food, it was delicious!" RED smile a big toothy grin at the lady. She smiled a closed mouth one.
"I am glad you liked it, my son," she said as she wiped RED's face with a napkin.
RED's expression soured, as he looked at the so-called 'french toast' on his plate. He hated the memories that would creep into his brain. It felt like his creators were toying with him.
Because she wasn't real. None of it was real.
There were times where he wished it was. He wondered where dad was, but he never wondered where his mother was. But that was not his mom, just an empty NPC who wore her skin. She wasn't the mom that was in his memories. That's why he locked them away.
He looked over at you, you were cooking the last bit of the loaf. He could hear you swearing at the slice that refused to flip, instead, it jumped out of the pan. It tried to fly onto the floor, but you caught it with your hand. Repeatedly yelling 'hot!' as you dragged the slice back onto the pan.
As RED watched you fumble, he realized. His abdomen let out a grumble.
Oh, I was hungry.
-
You huffed, as you finally got the last piece of french toast onto the plate. You could finally eat your dinner breakfast in peace without dealing with anything rash--
Wait... Why did it burn in the first place?
You paused for a second, thinking about the events before you finished the entire loaf. Before the pieces burned.
Your face went bright crimson.
I poked my guest to death, because he called me a Jigglypuff. While straddling him, end me now.
A/N: On the topic of things burning.... my workplace nearly went up in flames. Σ（ﾟдﾟlll） The dustpan underneath the meat cooker, hadn't been cleaned the night before..... ('-﹏-'；) and it caught on fire. 20 minutes before my shift ended. (◕⌓◕;) So... nearly died, but I'm okay! (on some level) (@。@;)