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@spiteful-stories-untold
“Not all Stories are told. Some are hidden. Some are forgotten. Come in and explore the tales. The lost, the forgotten, and what could have been.”
—————————-—
This is an AU blog that’s really… a clusterfuck??? Come along and join me if you’ve ever wanted to create AU’s of my blog @spiteful-bomb . I don’t bite :)
Tag Dump
Character Info (Updated as needed)
Og Promo
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
“You’re gonna feel a bit drowsy but… this should work.” They kinda just float upwards a little. Setting a hand on his forehead. Give it a second. Yeah he’s probably gonna feel dizzy now.
Jet nodded slowly, eyes starting to flutter closed. Eventually, he gave up on keeping them open, posture growing lax as he let them shut completely.
K sighs softly.
“Sleep well in eternal slumber…”
………………..
Spiteful blinks slowly. W h y? He had only been up here for 3- no 5 minutes. Why would Jet- his eyes soften as he kneels next to the bomb head.
“Hey…. Jet… get up.”
Jet was still, deathly so. He was starting to grow colder with each passing minute, almost looking like he were sleeping. Relaxed. But there was no movement, even when the bombhead slept, he moved every now and then.
Spiteful simply sits next to him. Silently. He’d wake when he’d wake. The cloud man sighs, a ghostly sigh. He wasn’t mad. He just… didn’t want the other to follow him in a guilt ridden trip.
“I’m sorry…. I should’ve been a better dad, huh?”
Soon enough, Jet 'woke' up too, looking around, his eyes stopping at his own body. It... Worked? On one hand, he was glad. No one would ever be hurt because of him again. On the other hand... No, his friends would forget. They'd move on, and it'd be fine.
".... Sorry for killing dad. Didn't.... Didn't meant to... Made up for it, though! It's... It's fine now."
Spiteful looks up at the bomb head. Sighing softly.
“Jet… I’m not mad. Not mad at what happened. ‘M not mad at what you chose… just… wish you would’ve talked to your friends before you went through with it.”
He stands up, ‘dusting’ himself off before looking up at Jet again. And simply hugs the other.
“Things will be different but in a sense. Neither of us will be hurt again…”
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
“You’re gonna feel a bit drowsy but… this should work.” They kinda just float upwards a little. Setting a hand on his forehead. Give it a second. Yeah he’s probably gonna feel dizzy now.
Jet nodded slowly, eyes starting to flutter closed. Eventually, he gave up on keeping them open, posture growing lax as he let them shut completely.
K sighs softly.
“Sleep well in eternal slumber…”
………………..
Spiteful blinks slowly. W h y? He had only been up here for 3- no 5 minutes. Why would Jet- his eyes soften as he kneels next to the bomb head.
“Hey…. Jet… get up.”
Jet was still, deathly so. He was starting to grow colder with each passing minute, almost looking like he were sleeping. Relaxed. But there was no movement, even when the bombhead slept, he moved every now and then.
Spiteful simply sits next to him. Silently. He’d wake when he’d wake. The cloud man sighs, a ghostly sigh. He wasn’t mad. He just… didn’t want the other to follow him in a guilt ridden trip.
“I’m sorry…. I should’ve been a better dad, huh?”
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
“You’re gonna feel a bit drowsy but… this should work.” They kinda just float upwards a little. Setting a hand on his forehead. Give it a second. Yeah he’s probably gonna feel dizzy now.
Jet nodded slowly, eyes starting to flutter closed. Eventually, he gave up on keeping them open, posture growing lax as he let them shut completely.
K sighs softly.
“Sleep well in eternal slumber…”
………………..
Spiteful blinks slowly. W h y? He had only been up here for 3- no 5 minutes. Why would Jet- his eyes soften as he kneels next to the bomb head.
“Hey…. Jet… get up.”
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
"But... But could end well! Would just have to... S- Stay away. Too much of monster to be near dad. Might... End up hurting him again..."
He looked down at the corpse in his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into his dad's fluff, trying to comfort himself.
“Thing is. He’d fight his way to get back to you. He cares too much. You’re his first kid. That means he cares for you the most.”
She sighs. Folding her hands.
“There’s a… another option but I’m not entirely sure you’d be open to it…”
He whimpered at that thought, nuzzling his father's fluff again. Dad would do that, Dad was good, and cared so much... Jet had never deserved him. Never, ever.
"What's... Other option?"
He'd do anything for his dad.
“You could… join him.”
The words felt heavy coming out her mouth. She wanted to cringe. It felt weird.
Jet paused, looking down at his dad. That... Could he? His mind wandered to Ron, to the rest of his friends, to Hatter. They'd miss him. But... Could he even live with the guilt of killing his dad? Did he even deserve to? The bombhead stayed quiet for a few seconds, before sighing.
"... Alright. Let's... Let's do it."
“Are you…. Absolutely sure? This… isn’t reversible.”
She’s trying to make absolute sure he wants to go through with this.
"Jet knows. Jet... Can't live, with guilt of killing dad. Doesn't deserve to either. Just... Tell Ron and friends? So that they know?"
She sighs, nodding softly.
“Alright. Whenever you’re ready?”
Jeez this was gonna be a mess.
Carefully, Jet stopped hugging the corpse, putting his dad down on the floor with immense care. He looked like he was about to cry again, slowly nuzzling his father, one last time. He looked like he hesitated for a second, before sighing, rubbing his arm. This was it.
"Jet.... Jet ready."
“You’re gonna feel a bit drowsy but… this should work.” They kinda just float upwards a little. Setting a hand on his forehead. Give it a second. Yeah he’s probably gonna feel dizzy now.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
"But... But could end well! Would just have to... S- Stay away. Too much of monster to be near dad. Might... End up hurting him again..."
He looked down at the corpse in his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into his dad's fluff, trying to comfort himself.
“Thing is. He’d fight his way to get back to you. He cares too much. You’re his first kid. That means he cares for you the most.”
She sighs. Folding her hands.
“There’s a… another option but I’m not entirely sure you’d be open to it…”
He whimpered at that thought, nuzzling his father's fluff again. Dad would do that, Dad was good, and cared so much... Jet had never deserved him. Never, ever.
"What's... Other option?"
He'd do anything for his dad.
“You could… join him.”
The words felt heavy coming out her mouth. She wanted to cringe. It felt weird.
Jet paused, looking down at his dad. That... Could he? His mind wandered to Ron, to the rest of his friends, to Hatter. They'd miss him. But... Could he even live with the guilt of killing his dad? Did he even deserve to? The bombhead stayed quiet for a few seconds, before sighing.
"... Alright. Let's... Let's do it."
“Are you…. Absolutely sure? This… isn’t reversible.”
She’s trying to make absolute sure he wants to go through with this.
"Jet knows. Jet... Can't live, with guilt of killing dad. Doesn't deserve to either. Just... Tell Ron and friends? So that they know?"
She sighs, nodding softly.
“Alright. Whenever you’re ready?”
Jeez this was gonna be a mess.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
"But... But could end well! Would just have to... S- Stay away. Too much of monster to be near dad. Might... End up hurting him again..."
He looked down at the corpse in his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into his dad's fluff, trying to comfort himself.
“Thing is. He’d fight his way to get back to you. He cares too much. You’re his first kid. That means he cares for you the most.”
She sighs. Folding her hands.
“There’s a… another option but I’m not entirely sure you’d be open to it…”
He whimpered at that thought, nuzzling his father's fluff again. Dad would do that, Dad was good, and cared so much... Jet had never deserved him. Never, ever.
"What's... Other option?"
He'd do anything for his dad.
“You could… join him.”
The words felt heavy coming out her mouth. She wanted to cringe. It felt weird.
Jet paused, looking down at his dad. That... Could he? His mind wandered to Ron, to the rest of his friends, to Hatter. They'd miss him. But... Could he even live with the guilt of killing his dad? Did he even deserve to? The bombhead stayed quiet for a few seconds, before sighing.
"... Alright. Let's... Let's do it."
“Are you…. Absolutely sure? This… isn’t reversible.”
She’s trying to make absolute sure he wants to go through with this.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
"But... But could end well! Would just have to... S- Stay away. Too much of monster to be near dad. Might... End up hurting him again..."
He looked down at the corpse in his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into his dad's fluff, trying to comfort himself.
“Thing is. He’d fight his way to get back to you. He cares too much. You’re his first kid. That means he cares for you the most.”
She sighs. Folding her hands.
“There’s a… another option but I’m not entirely sure you’d be open to it…”
He whimpered at that thought, nuzzling his father's fluff again. Dad would do that, Dad was good, and cared so much... Jet had never deserved him. Never, ever.
"What's... Other option?"
He'd do anything for his dad.
“You could… join him.”
The words felt heavy coming out her mouth. She wanted to cringe. It felt weird.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
"But... But could end well! Would just have to... S- Stay away. Too much of monster to be near dad. Might... End up hurting him again..."
He looked down at the corpse in his arms, carefully nuzzling his face into his dad's fluff, trying to comfort himself.
“Thing is. He’d fight his way to get back to you. He cares too much. You’re his first kid. That means he cares for you the most.”
She sighs. Folding her hands.
“There’s a… another option but I’m not entirely sure you’d be open to it…”
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
Jet slowly looked up at K, hands shaky around his dead father's frame. He looked down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He was a monster, wasn't he? He didn't mean to. It... It wasn't fair, everything should have gone well. Why didn't anything go well?
"Didn't.... Didn't mean to... Sorry, Dad, sorry, please come back..."
K heaves a soft sigh.
“No offense…. But bringing him back won’t end in anything more happy. It’ll hurt worse….”
They honestly weren’t sure what to tell him. Was there a good solution to this?
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
The bombhead whimpers before hugging the corpse close, harder than he should be. He could feel his dad's bones bend slightly with the force, but he didn't care. He just... Wanted to feel Dad's warmth again. Wanted to pretend that this was a nightmare. This was so familiar, so... Just like before. Just that this time it had been his fault. He killed his father. Jet sobbed, before starting to cry, loud and ugly.
A figure simply stands next to Jet. They shove their hands in their pockets.
“….. you really did a number on him this time, huh?”
K bites the inside of her cheek. As much as she could try to bring him back this scene would just play out over and over with no end. Wasn’t worth all the pain.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
Jet stays where he is for a second, frozen, before he grabs on to Spiteful's shoulders desperately and starting shaking him vigorously, trying to get him to wake up.
"Nononono not again dad please please Jet loves you Jet wants you back don't leave please-"
He’s just gone. No response, nothing at all. He’s not going to come back.
An ominous silence falls over the duo, but people who had been walking by start calling 9-1-1 … it’s too late though anyway. What good would it do for a dead man?
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
"No no Dad is good it was Jet, Jet hurt Dad again-"
He tried to get other people's attention even more, someone had to come and help Dad, someone would know how to do, something could fix his mistake, right? He was afraid of being alone again, life without Dad was horrible, pointless. He had to be alright, and if he survived, when he healed Jet would step out. He'd caused him too much pain already, he didn't want to mess up again.
Spiteful just sits there, looking up at the other, strained smile as his eyes grow more fuzzy. He sways before falling back altogether. He’s…. Out cold. Oh dear-
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
"No no Dad's fine be alright can get someone right please-"
He hated himself for having hurt Dad again, but this wasn't like the forest, there were people who could help around, they had to, right? He couldn't live with his dad dying in front of him again, and definitely if it was his fault. This was all too much, his hearts feeling like they were about to beat out of his chest into the pavement. He really hoped they did, maybe then he'd have fully repented for all he'd done, if he died too. He moved towards him, but then stopped, far too scared of what he could do. What if he made it worse? He knew he could, knew what monstrosities he was capable of, how many lives he'd taken. Dad's probably included now, too.
"Jet sorry thought you were cloud man thought Jet was back there didn't mean it please please-"
He didn't know what to do. He was really crying now, his eyes blurry from the thick, gasoline tears. He wanted to dissappear, better yet, before he'd ever met Dad, then this wouldn't have happened.
Despite all the pain, he still attempts to at least t r y and comfort the other. He falls on his ass tho-.
“Hey-…. It’s… it’s ok… I should’ve… been careful…. I should’ve… been a… better dad…”
He didn’t want Jet blaming himself… it seemed bound to happen some point, and Spiteful was ok with that.
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
He'd been waiting for this, thought he was ready, but now that he saw Dad again, all he could remember is how it felt to hurt him, how his blood ran down the bombhesd's hands, and he felt disgusted at himself. He didn't deserve any forgiveness, he was everything cloud man had said he was, and that confirmation felt worse than any time spent in the white room could make him feel. Monster.
The words came out much more scared than he'd hoped, already a bad sign. He didn't want Dad to know, he'd never talked about anything that happened before with him, other than light mentions, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if he knew? Jet'd lose Dad forever. No one would want to stay after that.
"J- Jet... please, Jet didn't mean to, please don't leave, don't punish Jet don't lock in white room please please please-"
He couldn't do this, everything fading to a familiar scene. The laboratory, the thick scent of rubbing alcohol, of chemicals Jet had never even bothered to try and figure out the name of, and the scent of Dad cloud man. He messed up again, he was bad, he would get punished, as he deserved to be. He was so lost in his mind he hadn't realized he'd fallen to his knees, that he was crying, that none of this was real.
"Jet's bad Jet's bad Jet's horrible horrible disgusting despicable-"
So much for a good apology.
The cloud man takes a step back. What was he supposed to say?! Through it all he didn’t want to yell- he wasn’t mad and he h a t e d it. He cared and he hated how much he did. Always benefit of the doubt. He hated that no matter how many times they did this song and dance he wouldn’t be mad. He wouldn’t be angry or disappointed. He knew he wouldn’t.
His cloud turns darker as he stands there- unsure at first-.
“H-hey I’m not- I promise I won’t- I wouldn’t- y-you know I wouldn’t- Jet please it-it’s ok-“
Lying through your teeth to yourself and to him. Just great.
He wouldn't? No, he would, like he did before, he couldn't trick him again, he wanted to believe but he'd get hurt like last time please snap out of it he'd get put in the white room again he deserved it he'd hurt him hurt who? he'd failed, again and again and nothing was going to make it better nothing could ever make it better he was nothing he was something what was he?
"Would, would, definitely would, leave alone, again, would like to, wants to-"
He wasn't making much sense, speaking far too quickly and far too panicked to even try and make any, really.
"Doesn't want Jet doesn't need Jet Jet bad bad bad-"
He didn't even know where he was now. Cloud man or Dad? Both? None? Neither questions he could answer at the moment, everything felt real and fake and like nothing mattered but everything mattered what was real where was he- A sharp sting in his head brought him back to himself, even if only somewhat. He'd held his head too hard, of course he had, why did he come here? Apology? What did he do?
Ok now there’s the adrenaline rush. Not again-
“Hey… hey buddy. Breathe just breathe. It’s ok Jet-“
Spiteful attempts to approach- probably not a wise choice if we’re being honest. But he’s going to at least try to calm Jet down.
Where was he cloud man's voice was here lab lab not lab doesn't smell like lab danger. The bombhead hissed as if struck, practically bending himself backwards to step away from Dad cloud man. He was trying to look menacing, a scowl that showed off his razor sharp teeth, but it was clear by his very shaky frame he was terrified.
"No no no cloud man's not taking Jet again Jet free, free forever, free-"
He was trying not to overheat, cloud man hated when he did that, and he was already in trouble what was he doing he was getting himself in more trouble why was he fighting again?
Spiteful’s cloud is now a pretty damn dark shade of grey. He’s trying to stay calm but- it’s obvious he’s becoming scared.
“J-Jet… just… breathe… ok? I-I’m not mad- I’m not upset-“
Despite the obvious red flags, danger indicators and the like, Spiteful takes another step towards him.
"BACK BACK BACK BACK-"
He practically screeched, slashing at the air in the direction of cloud man as a warning. Luckily his hands weren't on fire, or it could have been deadly. A low, constant sound came from his throat, a growl, his pupils small and unfocused.
Another adrenaline Spike. Although despite the warnings he still tries to approach, slowly and steadily. Shaky breathing as he tries once again.
“I’m not gonna h-hurt you…. I-I promised you I wouldn’t-“
That was enough for him to lose the small sense of recognition that was keeping him from really going through with hurting the other, if only for a second. Another swipe, this one actually hitting its target, his dad's stomach. The smell of blood paired with the sudden warmth of his fingers were enough to bring him out of his panic induced hallucination, and only then he realized what he did.
"Dad dad dad sorry Jet didn't mean it please don't go again please-"
It hurt. A lot. Searing, hot pain cutting through his entire body. He grits his teeth and hisses, clutching the wound. His eye sight becoming fuzzy. Despite everything going on- he’s not upset. Not even a hint of anger. He looks at the bomb head and forces a smile, tears trailing down from his eyes. He’s… accepted this.
“It’s ok…. ‘M not… mad. Not… upset… it… hurts… but it’s…. Not… your fault…”
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
He'd been waiting for this, thought he was ready, but now that he saw Dad again, all he could remember is how it felt to hurt him, how his blood ran down the bombhesd's hands, and he felt disgusted at himself. He didn't deserve any forgiveness, he was everything cloud man had said he was, and that confirmation felt worse than any time spent in the white room could make him feel. Monster.
The words came out much more scared than he'd hoped, already a bad sign. He didn't want Dad to know, he'd never talked about anything that happened before with him, other than light mentions, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if he knew? Jet'd lose Dad forever. No one would want to stay after that.
"J- Jet... please, Jet didn't mean to, please don't leave, don't punish Jet don't lock in white room please please please-"
He couldn't do this, everything fading to a familiar scene. The laboratory, the thick scent of rubbing alcohol, of chemicals Jet had never even bothered to try and figure out the name of, and the scent of Dad cloud man. He messed up again, he was bad, he would get punished, as he deserved to be. He was so lost in his mind he hadn't realized he'd fallen to his knees, that he was crying, that none of this was real.
"Jet's bad Jet's bad Jet's horrible horrible disgusting despicable-"
So much for a good apology.
The cloud man takes a step back. What was he supposed to say?! Through it all he didn’t want to yell- he wasn’t mad and he h a t e d it. He cared and he hated how much he did. Always benefit of the doubt. He hated that no matter how many times they did this song and dance he wouldn’t be mad. He wouldn’t be angry or disappointed. He knew he wouldn’t.
His cloud turns darker as he stands there- unsure at first-.
“H-hey I’m not- I promise I won’t- I wouldn’t- y-you know I wouldn’t- Jet please it-it’s ok-“
Lying through your teeth to yourself and to him. Just great.
He wouldn't? No, he would, like he did before, he couldn't trick him again, he wanted to believe but he'd get hurt like last time please snap out of it he'd get put in the white room again he deserved it he'd hurt him hurt who? he'd failed, again and again and nothing was going to make it better nothing could ever make it better he was nothing he was something what was he?
"Would, would, definitely would, leave alone, again, would like to, wants to-"
He wasn't making much sense, speaking far too quickly and far too panicked to even try and make any, really.
"Doesn't want Jet doesn't need Jet Jet bad bad bad-"
He didn't even know where he was now. Cloud man or Dad? Both? None? Neither questions he could answer at the moment, everything felt real and fake and like nothing mattered but everything mattered what was real where was he- A sharp sting in his head brought him back to himself, even if only somewhat. He'd held his head too hard, of course he had, why did he come here? Apology? What did he do?
Ok now there’s the adrenaline rush. Not again-
“Hey… hey buddy. Breathe just breathe. It’s ok Jet-“
Spiteful attempts to approach- probably not a wise choice if we’re being honest. But he’s going to at least try to calm Jet down.
Where was he cloud man's voice was here lab lab not lab doesn't smell like lab danger. The bombhead hissed as if struck, practically bending himself backwards to step away from Dad cloud man. He was trying to look menacing, a scowl that showed off his razor sharp teeth, but it was clear by his very shaky frame he was terrified.
"No no no cloud man's not taking Jet again Jet free, free forever, free-"
He was trying not to overheat, cloud man hated when he did that, and he was already in trouble what was he doing he was getting himself in more trouble why was he fighting again?
Spiteful’s cloud is now a pretty damn dark shade of grey. He’s trying to stay calm but- it’s obvious he’s becoming scared.
“J-Jet… just… breathe… ok? I-I’m not mad- I’m not upset-“
Despite the obvious red flags, danger indicators and the like, Spiteful takes another step towards him.
"BACK BACK BACK BACK-"
He practically screeched, slashing at the air in the direction of cloud man as a warning. Luckily his hands weren't on fire, or it could have been deadly. A low, constant sound came from his throat, a growl, his pupils small and unfocused.
Another adrenaline Spike. Although despite the warnings he still tries to approach, slowly and steadily. Shaky breathing as he tries once again.
“I’m not gonna h-hurt you…. I-I promised you I wouldn’t-“
He was horrible, the worst son ever, an utter disgrace, everything cloud man said he was. He hurt Dad, it was an accident, right? It'd be fine, right? He wouldn't leave... Right? He didn't want to be alone again; his heart hurt just as badly as when Dad had left, even worse. He didn't know what to do to make it better. Did Dad even want to see him? He couldn't even move, couldn't bring himself to go into the building his dad was in, the one he'd been standing at the front door of.
He couldn’t stay in his room forever. He needed air sometime. Despite how badly hurt he felt he still cared. Spiteful walks out the building, fluff a dark shade of grey. He felt tired. He pauses, glancing upwards and low and behold.
Jet.
Frankly he wasn’t sure what to say and just stared. What could he say? It’s ok? You’ve done nothing wrong? I’m ok and it’s alright? He wanted to but deep down he couldn’t bring himself to.
“….. I-….”
He'd been waiting for this, thought he was ready, but now that he saw Dad again, all he could remember is how it felt to hurt him, how his blood ran down the bombhesd's hands, and he felt disgusted at himself. He didn't deserve any forgiveness, he was everything cloud man had said he was, and that confirmation felt worse than any time spent in the white room could make him feel. Monster.
The words came out much more scared than he'd hoped, already a bad sign. He didn't want Dad to know, he'd never talked about anything that happened before with him, other than light mentions, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if he knew? Jet'd lose Dad forever. No one would want to stay after that.
"J- Jet... please, Jet didn't mean to, please don't leave, don't punish Jet don't lock in white room please please please-"
He couldn't do this, everything fading to a familiar scene. The laboratory, the thick scent of rubbing alcohol, of chemicals Jet had never even bothered to try and figure out the name of, and the scent of Dad cloud man. He messed up again, he was bad, he would get punished, as he deserved to be. He was so lost in his mind he hadn't realized he'd fallen to his knees, that he was crying, that none of this was real.
"Jet's bad Jet's bad Jet's horrible horrible disgusting despicable-"
So much for a good apology.
The cloud man takes a step back. What was he supposed to say?! Through it all he didn’t want to yell- he wasn’t mad and he h a t e d it. He cared and he hated how much he did. Always benefit of the doubt. He hated that no matter how many times they did this song and dance he wouldn’t be mad. He wouldn’t be angry or disappointed. He knew he wouldn’t.
His cloud turns darker as he stands there- unsure at first-.
“H-hey I’m not- I promise I won’t- I wouldn’t- y-you know I wouldn’t- Jet please it-it’s ok-“
Lying through your teeth to yourself and to him. Just great.
He wouldn't? No, he would, like he did before, he couldn't trick him again, he wanted to believe but he'd get hurt like last time please snap out of it he'd get put in the white room again he deserved it he'd hurt him hurt who? he'd failed, again and again and nothing was going to make it better nothing could ever make it better he was nothing he was something what was he?
"Would, would, definitely would, leave alone, again, would like to, wants to-"
He wasn't making much sense, speaking far too quickly and far too panicked to even try and make any, really.
"Doesn't want Jet doesn't need Jet Jet bad bad bad-"
He didn't even know where he was now. Cloud man or Dad? Both? None? Neither questions he could answer at the moment, everything felt real and fake and like nothing mattered but everything mattered what was real where was he- A sharp sting in his head brought him back to himself, even if only somewhat. He'd held his head too hard, of course he had, why did he come here? Apology? What did he do?
Ok now there’s the adrenaline rush. Not again-
“Hey… hey buddy. Breathe just breathe. It’s ok Jet-“
Spiteful attempts to approach- probably not a wise choice if we’re being honest. But he’s going to at least try to calm Jet down.
Where was he cloud man's voice was here lab lab not lab doesn't smell like lab danger. The bombhead hissed as if struck, practically bending himself backwards to step away from Dad cloud man. He was trying to look menacing, a scowl that showed off his razor sharp teeth, but it was clear by his very shaky frame he was terrified.
"No no no cloud man's not taking Jet again Jet free, free forever, free-"
He was trying not to overheat, cloud man hated when he did that, and he was already in trouble what was he doing he was getting himself in more trouble why was he fighting again?
Spiteful’s cloud is now a pretty damn dark shade of grey. He’s trying to stay calm but- it’s obvious he’s becoming scared.
“J-Jet… just… breathe… ok? I-I’m not mad- I’m not upset-“
Despite the obvious red flags, danger indicators and the like, Spiteful takes another step towards him.
