#yarrop

[vorefluff]

ribs my beloved

[vorefluff]

Fresh Blood

Another little story snippet! This one is 1.5k words, focusing on Yarrop’s point of view and the dynamic between him and Damien. There’s also a little bit of Co. 

Here’s a drawing of Yarrop! 

Warnings: violence, safe vore (if there’s anything else you want me to tag, feel free to ask!)

It’s a very… quiet day. Unnervingly quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. It opens up the opportunity for thinking. Which honestly Yarrop isn’t really a big fan of thinking for recreational purposes. 

Yarrop lays in bed. Today is a bad pain day. His crooked spine aches, his joints creaks, his hips protest, and hunger gnaws at him. However, he doesn’t really think he can keep anything down right now. Maybe he could grab like uh, a fuckin’ protein shake or something. Or maybe not, the idea makes him nauseous. Maybe it’ll be another broth day. 

Thoughts enabling his shitty self esteem encroach on the edge of his brain. Yeah, whatever. Everyone’s a ‘burden’, the concept of life is pointless, Yarrop tries to remember that those aren’t things that make him unique. Everyone’s in this shitshow together, so fuck it, right? The thoughts are annoying. He’ll die whenever he dies. Damien’s made it clear that he won’t let Yarrop make it happen any sooner.

Eugh. This is why he doesn’t like quiet days. It makes his skin crawl. Yarrop pushes aside and ignores the thoughts. Time to get up, and make some noise so it stops being such a quiet day.

Yarrop pushes himself up, trying to ignore the pain flares. He rotates his shoulders and massages his legs for a moment, making an attempt to loosen up stiff muscles. He pushes on his ribs, trying to realign one of them so it stops pressing on his lungs weird. Hm. Maybe he should’ve done that out in the living room, actually. It’s a bit funny, the looks people will give him sometimes when he does that. Oh well. With a heave, he gets to his feet and shuffles out of his room. 

Stopping by Co’s door, he knocks. “Casper?” Yarrop calls. His throat is dry and talking hurts. He waits for a moment and knocks again. “Cas.”... nothing. Another knock. “Hey, fucker.”

There’s the sound of groaning and movement. “Huh?” Co responds groggily.

“Get the uh. Breakthrough pain meds too,” Yarrop requests and heads towards the kitchen without waiting for a reply. Sure it was annoying having someone else hold his meds, but he doesn’t really trust himself not to do something stupid with them. Again.

Opening the door of the fridge, Yarrop takes a look at his options. His guts twist themselves into knots. He immediately skips over and dismisses anything solid. Which leaves broths, soups, or shakes. He’s not really interested in any of it. 

The door to Co’s room opens. Yarrop can tell just by the way it sounds. Eh, fuck it. He grabs one of the protein shakes. 

“Are you doin’ alright?” Co asks, yawns, and sets down the med cup on the counter.

Yarrop shrugs dismissively. He’s not interested in talking. He turns his attention to the living room. “Damien? Ya out here?”

A leg sticks up over the back of the couch in the living room, a neon green sock on the foot. Yup. That’s Damien alright. 

“Want any eggs?” Co asks. 

Yarrop shakes his head. Deep breath. He cracks open the protein shake and uses it to take his morning meds one by one, then just chugs it to try and get it over with quick. It’s hard. His body tries to immediately return it, but he forces it down. It’s the best thing for him that he can try and tolerate, but gah it’s so thick and the texture makes him gag.

“Are you sure you don’t want eggs? You seem hungry,” Co asks again, opening the fridge and grabbing a few of them. Fresh from the backyard, courtesy of Damien.

Yarrop shakes his head again. Absolutely not. He takes the tablet from the med cup and puts it under his tongue, then throws both the med cup and the empty shake in the trash. 

That done, he makes his way out to the couch where Damien is. Yarrop bends over the back of the couch to look down at the short neon nightmare. 

Damien flashes a toothy grin, and Yarrop punches him in the arm. Damien’s face lights up in anticipation, hitting Yarrop back and then rolling off the couch. 

“Hey, hey! Not in the house. Outside,” Co says, pointing towards the back yard. 

Damien races out the back door. Yarrop follows more slowly, keeping an easy pace. He takes up a position facing Damien on the grass. 

“Weapons or nah?” Damien asks. 

Yarrop shakes his head. 

Damien shrugs and tosses the rock he’s holding over his shoulder. 

Yarrop watches the rock hit the ground, then looks back at Damien. “Go.”

Damien immediately rushes forward for a tackle. 

Yarrop probably could have dodged it if he wanted. But well, he was here for a good dirty drag out fight. He braces for impact, going to the ground with Damien on top. The new sharp pain wakes up Yarrop, pulling his brain out of the fog. A grin stretches across Yarrop’s face. He lands a hit in the crook of Damien’s elbow and pushes up on the opposite shoulder, threatening to topple him. 

Damien pulls back, leaning back and putting his weight on Yarrop’s chest instead of his arms to keep from being toppled. Yarrop’s spine pops like a glowstick. In the moment of distraction Damien leans forward again, this time with his hands around Yarrop’s neck. 

Yarrop snaps his fingers twice, and Damien instantly backs off, getting off and taking a step back. Yarrop rolls over, coughing and trying not to puke. While the spine pops felt great, it was too much pressure near his writhing guts. 

“You alright?” Damien asks.

Yarrop nods. “Don’t sit on me this time.”

"'K, got it." 

Yarrop takes a deep breath. "Go."

Not even a second later, there's a sharp pain in his side from getting kicked. 

Yarrop rolls over, grabbing Damien’s knees and shoving at his hip. 

Damien topples over with a yelp and a thud. He frees one leg and kicks at Yarrop again to try and release the other. 

Yarrop manages to catch the free leg on the third kick, and pulls them behind him to bring Damien closer. He sends a knee to Damien’s gut. As Damien curls in, Yarrop lets go of a leg to slam a fist down on the side of Damien’s ribcage

The whole thing continues as a tangled mess of limbs. Bruises emerge, blood drips, dirt smears. Both evenly matched and feeling alive. It's exhilarating. Releasing steam, feeling capable, the high of adrenaline that numbs the pain. Oh, he’ll feel it later, but that doesn’t matter.

This time, Yarrop manages to straddle Damien and puts his hands on Damien’s neck, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. Damien snaps his fingers once, and Yarrop lets go and pauses for a moment.

Damien takes a deep breath and pushes Yarrop, rolling them both over and putting Damien on top. He’s careful not to sit or put pressure on Yarrop again though. 

Yarrops chest heaves, struggling to breathe. He’s just about at his limit. 

Damien’s mismatched eyes dart, noticing the drop of energy and looking at the aftermath. Damien bites the air questioningly.

Yarrop shrugs and closes his eyes. Sure, might as well. There's a pain in his shoulder as Damien bites him. 

The grass tickles as it shifts under his skin. A feeling of weightlessness grows, a comforting relief when contrasted to how much gravity contributes to aches and pains. When he starts to be lifted off the ground by his shoulder, he opens his eyes to see that the grass is about a quarter of his height now. An ant that seems to be growing bigger than his fingers crawls up his leg. He quickly kicks that off. The grass seems to be nearly half his height now. Eugh. Yarrop closes his eyes again before he gets too dizzy. 

Damien readjusts, putting Yarrop’s arm between two long uneven fangs. At this point, his lips covered half of Yarrop’s torso. Here he goes. Damien throws his head back and opens his jaw. 

Yarrop falls to the back of Damien’s throat, and he's sure he left a smear of blood, sweat, and dirt on his way back. Strong muscles quickly pull him in. Looks like this time, the wheel of chance has decided Yarrop will be going head first.

There's a final wash of hot breath past his legs before his whole body disappears down Damien’s gullet. A soft red glow meets him, a bit of bioluminescence that highlights the glistening ridges. The loud thumping of the heart beat, still elevated from the fight, is going to give him a headache.

It hurts quite a bit, for his body to be forced into such a straight line. Probably one of the worst parts of this whole thing. Yarrop clenches his jaw. Fortunately it doesn't last long, and he's unceremoniously dumped into the stomach. 

Damien hums as Yarrop lands. The stomach kneads at him like it wants to continue the fight. Yarrop pushes back half heartedly and finds a good spot to lay down, nestling into the wall of the top shelf. As the adrenaline wears off, his aches and pains come back with a vengeance. His head spins, dizzy from the exertion. Eugh.

It's not exactly the normal way people go about an arrangement like this, sure. But it's what works for them. 

The whole place tilts and shifts, presumably because Damien is getting up and going back in the house. Yarrop closes his eyes.

Being inside Damien keeps Yarrop from thinking too much, which is how he prefers things to be. It also gets him out of his depression nest of a room. And, in a way, he’s interacting with someone when he doesn't have much energy to do shit. 

"You look atrocious!" Co exclaims, his voice muffled through layers of flesh.

"You shoul' join us sometime, it's fun," Damien replies, his voice quite loud in comparison. 

"Eh. I'd prefer something less… crude. Where’s Yarrop? You didn't leave a corpse in the backyard, did you?" 

"No, he's here." Smack. 

Damien hits a spot right by Yarrops head, and his ears ring from the loud sound. Yarrop very pointedly kicks the wall in protest. 

"Ah. I should've guessed."

Yarrop only half pays attention. Not only is the adrenaline gone, but he's crashing quite hard energy wise. It's getting hard to focus, and exhaustion pulls at him. He scoffs. He just woke up, and now he’s already drifting off?

Another benefit to being inside Damien, is that if anyone wants to get to him, they'd have to physically get through Damien first, which isn’t an easy task. After Yarrop’s woken up so many times with weapons pointed at him, this sense of security is a rare luxury. 

So with a fleeting sense of safety, the muffled noises of day to day living, and the tingling of fresh bruises, Yarrop falls asleep.

[vorefluff]

Movie Time, Chapter 7

Chapter 7 of 'Breathe Life, Outrunning Our Doom'!

Find the rest of the story and overall TWs here!

POV: Yarrop

Wordcount: 2.7k

The whole household goes to a movie, and Yarrop continues to not like the pastime of 'thinking'.

Art for this chapter will be coming a bit later!

“You all wanted to see that movie, ‘Belly Of The Beast’, right?” Co asks, poking his head out of the hallway. 

Yarrop looks up from his game as sounds of enthusiastic agreement come from both Ribbonsy - sitting on the couch opposite him - and Damien in the kitchen.

“Alright, well, I just managed to snag a ticket before the showing sold out. It’s for this Sunday at 6pm. But I only managed to snag one. So we got two options - either I can smuggle you all in, or I can cancel the ticket and see if I can find a group of four tickets for a week or two away. Or three tickets, you didn’t seem too excited about it Yarrop,” Co says, walking as he’s talking and ending up behind the couch that Ribbonsy is on. 

Yarrop mulls it over for a second. It unnerves him whenever the house is completely silent. On the other hand, theaters are overwhelming. Especially packed ones. Eh. Whatever. “I’ll go if Damien goes,” Yarrop says with a shrug. Too much noise is better than too little noise. 

“I’m going!” Damien chimes in, abandoning the kitchen. Well, there’s that answer.

“Alright. Do you all vote for being smuggled, or finding a later showing with more seats?” Co asks. 

“Kinda on point for the movie, eh? I vote smuggled,” Ribbonsy says, looking up at Co. 

Yarrop shrugs again. He doesn’t particularly care either way. Getting smuggled means he doesn’t need to bring his forearm crutches, which is a bonus.

Co looks at Damien and raises an eyebrow, waiting. Yarrop turns to look too.

Damien meets Co’s gaze for an impromptu staredown, his eyes slightly narrowed and a muffin in his hand. 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Co offers. 

Damien’s shoulders drop. “Buh the spoilerssssssss. Utoob will be full of themmmmm,” he whines, his expression turning slightly pleading. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” Co says with a shrug. 

“What if I take the seat an’ smuggle all o’ you in?” Damien asks, perking up. 

“I have to drive.”

“I can eat y’all in the parking lot, or I can take the bus,” Damien says, giving a toothy grin and getting a determined glint in his eyes. 

There’s another couple beats of silence as they start another staredown, some sort of subtle war of wills. 

Yarrop looks to Ribbonsy, who’s similarly watching this all go down. They seem to be debating something themself, but aren’t speaking any opposition to the idea.

Co breaks first, glancing down at Ribbonsy. Ribbonsy shrugs. He looks back up at Damien. “Fine. On two conditions. Teeth guards for eating and returning, as well as keeping your stomach clean for the whole thing. Meaning no movie snacks for you.”

Damien narrows his eyes, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he considers the offer. He’s made it plenty clear how much he hates the damn teeth guards, particularly since they make it nearly impossible to talk. His eyes bounce between the three of them.

“Deal,” Damien says and grins widely.  

------------

It’s Sunday, 4pm. Two hours before the movie, and about half an hour before Damien needs to get on the bus. Damien is to carry them past the ticket scanner, retrieve them in a bathroom stall, hide them in his hood, they’ll watch the movie on his shoulders, and then back down the hatch for the trip home. The possibility of just carrying them from the parking lot past the ticket scanner was shot down due to the turnaround time being rough on the throat.

Damien and Co were the ones that discussed more about the specifics. Which, knowing Damien, was most likely him being incredibly stubborn and negotiating for the option that’d let him hold the entire household for the longest reasonable amount of time. Predictable.

Damien sits on the coffee table, teeth guards in place, with the three of them on the couch facing him. It’s just so insanely funny to Yarrop - the three of them, all 6 feet tall or more, across from the short neon menace. 

Yarrop snickers. Eyes turn to look at him and he just shakes his head. 

Damien has a barely contained giddy ravenous glint to his eyes that Yarrop’s allll too familiar with. It’s been a good 4 hours since lunch, so his stomach should be empty by now. It usually doesn’t take more than 2 or 3 hours maximum, and typically shorter than that. That is, assuming Damien has resisted the urge to snack or eat anything since then. 

Co breaks the awkward silence. “...So who’s going first?” he asks, looking between Yarrop and Ribbonsy.

Damien points at Co.

“Me?” Co asks, pointing at his own chest. 

Damien nods. Ribbonsy pats Co’s shoulders as they slump. Yarrop watches as Co grimaces and holds out his hand. 

“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” Co says. He makes a rather undignified yelp as Damien swiftly pulls his hand to bite his wrist. 

Yarrop snickers, and Co turns to glare at him for a moment. That moment doesn’t last long, due to Co needing to close his eyes from how dizzyingly fast the man is getting smaller. Within seconds, Damien is grabbing Co’s leg to keep him from falling, then grabbing his torso like a doll. The second that Co hits the right size, Damien wastes no time and tosses his head back. It gives a great view of his throat as his adam’s apple bobs. You can even see the ridges of the windpipe as it pushes against the skin, like you would see for someone with giant genes.

Damien puts a hand to his stomach, grins, and wipes drool off his chin with the other hand. He looks between the two of them expectantly. Ribbonsy looks like they’re reconsidering all their choices thus far. 

“Be my guest,” Yarrop says to Ribbonsy with a smirk as he gestures to Damien. 

Damien’s eyes lock on Ribbonsy, and Ribbonsy sighs. They hold out their hand and close their eyes before it even starts. 

Damien does the same thing for Ribbonsy that he did for Co, although perhaps a bit rougher. Their skin seemed to dent a bit more around Damien’s teeth guards, and it might even bruise a little later. To Ribbonsy’s credit, they don’t flinch. 

Within seconds, Ribbonsy’s perfectly bite sized too. Damien throws his head back and swallows them, although Yarrop can tell that he’s struggling a bit more with them than he did with Co. Damien tilts his head and winces, managing to get the lump past his collarbone. 

“Their hair givin’ ya problems?” Yarrop asks and raises his eyebrow. 

Damien nods. He thumps his chest a couple times, and after a second his shoulders drop and relax. His hand rests on his stomach again. 

“My turn?” Yarrop asks. This whole thing is reminding him of a couple parties the two of them went to in highschool.  

Damien’s staring off into space. He has a pleased smile on his face, and is poking a bit at his stomach.

“Dumbass.” 

Damien snaps back to reality, looking at Yarrop. 

“My turn?” Yarrop prompts again. 

Damien nods enthusiastically. 

“Ya know, ya don’t have to bother with the teeth guards now,” Yarrop says. 

Damien shrugs, but doesn’t make a move to take them off. Which is about what Yarrop expected - teeth guards were part of the deal, so he’ll stick to it. Even if it’s not necessary at this point.

Whatever. Yarrop offers his hand like the other two. And, just like the other two, Damien pulls his hand to bite his wrist. The teeth guards feel weird. It’s like grandma forgot her dentures. Yarrop snickers. He just barely manages to catch Damien’s glare before he has to close his eyes from the nausea of shrinking so fast. 

When Yarrop can feel Damien’s lips covering most of his arm, he opens his eyes to grab ahold of Damien’s top teeth guards. When Damien throws his head back this time, Yarrop guarantees that he’s going down feet first before he lets go. He doesn’t feel much like knocking heads when he gets down. 

Yarrop gets pulled in to his hips on the first swallow, leaving the uvula directly in his face. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. He really really really shouldn’t. He punches the uvula. 

Damien coughs and Yarrop roughly knocks into Damien’s teeth guards. There’s some loud annoyed grumbling sounds, and the tongue underneath him roughly flips him over. Time for attempt two. It goes quicker this time, not giving him a second to consider punching it again. Oh well. 

Annnd here’s the rough part again. He grits his teeth at the pain as the pressure partially straightens his spine. Fortunately, it doesn’t last too long. His feet meet resistance as they enter the stomach, and Yarrop sends a swift kick as a warning to clear the way. 

“O- Hey!” he hears from Ribbonsy. 

They move to the side enough that Yarrop can drop down. 

Damien’s stomach is shaped weird. It’s almost like it was originally going to separate out into two stomachs, like you’d see in someone with giant genes. But it didn’t quite make it, so instead there’s a top shelf and a bigger more open bottom shelf area. And the top shelf is Yarrop’s. Yarrop decided that the moment he realized he’d have to share the space with the others. The top shelf is always Yarrop’s. 

Yarrop brandishes a knife and points off the top shelf, the soft red glow of Damien’s guts making it glint dramatically. “Down.” 

“Okay! Okay! Got it!” Ribbonsy says, dropping off the top shelf to join Co on the bottom shelf. 

“Yarrop, do you know why there are rocks in here?” Co asks, bewildered. 

“Gastroliths. Just shove ‘em in the intestines, unless ya want them knocking into your skull.” Yarrop explains bluntly, putting his knife away and laying back. The curve of his spine fit the curve of the stomach wall quite nicely.

There’s some clicking down below, presumably one of them shoving the rocks on. Yarrop can feel as Damien presses on the wall behind his spine, and the stomach itself kneads at them. A deep rumbling sound starts. 

“Eh?” 

Yarrop can’t tell whether the sound of confusion came from Co or Ribbonsy. Whatever. “Purring or somethin’. The glutton,” Yarrop starts, hitting the wall, “-is really enjoyin’ this.”

“What are gastroliths?” Co asks. 

Yarrop is done with answering stuff. They’ve got google for this shit. His throat hurts and he’s already talked too much anyway.

“Gastroliths are liths - stones - that are in the gastrointestinal tract. Several species use them to aid in digestion, particularly if they don’t have the teeth to grind food properly. With how weird Damien’s teeth are, I’m guessing that’s the whole point of them being here,” Ribbonsy answers. 

“Huh. Neat,” Co says, and then tries - and fails - at mimicking the sound that Damien’s making. Ribbonsy laughs. Yarrop wishes they’d shut up. 

Unfortunately, they do not shut up and they keep chatting. However, Yarrop does what’s called a pro gamer move and ignores them. Instead, he sinks further into the stomach folds and closes his eyes. He focuses on the other familiar sounds, using it to help release tension in his shoulders. There goes way too much of his limited social battery way too fast. They’re lucky that today is a low pain day, otherwise Yarrop would have a much shorter fuse. 

After a few moments, Yarrop comes to a realization and sighs heavily. It seems that Damien isn’t moving yet. Which is what Yarrop was afraid of. He pulls out his phone. Yeah alright, there’s still enough time for Damien to catch the bus.

[dumbass, bus.] send. 

Yarrop can hear Damien’s muffled phone notification, and feel the muscles briefly clench around them as Damien startles. 

Annnd in 3… 2… 1…

“Ah ohaoh,” Damien’s voice mumbles above them. If Yarrop were to guess, he’s pretty sure that was meant to be ‘aw, potatoes’. 

The place rocks, presumably Damien standing up to get going. Yarrop braces himself to avoid getting knocked off his shelf. As soon as he gets a chance, Yarrop quickly types out another message while Damien makes sounds of frustration.

[knok me off my shelf an i stab you] 

“Ahah! I’m freeeeeee,” Damien says, talking over the phone notification sound. “Spuddin’ hate these stu’id things,” he mutters. Well there go the teeth guards, at least for now. 

After a few moments, thick strands of saliva drip in. Yarrop grabs it and drops it over the edge of his shelf, directly onto Ribbonsy’s head. 

“Hey!” Ribbonsy protests, and Yarrop snickers. 

“Don’t make me come up there and start a game of king of the mountain for your spot,” Co warns. “I’ll knock you off your perch.” 

Yarrop peers down at Co and raises an eyebrow. Co has been challenging Yarrop more often since the knife fight in the backyard, which is fun. “Maybe later,” Yarrop says. Probably once he properly settles in and starts getting bored and unbearably irritated by their constant talking. Right now he’s satisfied by just being the occasional menace. And also he doesn’t want to put his perch at risk. 

The organ clenches and tilts, the wall behind him suddenly becoming a floor. As Yarrop slides, Co peeks around the floor-become-wall in an almost comical fashion, raising an eyebrow right back. Yarrop makes shoo-ing motions. He’s going back to trying to ignore the fact there’s other people here right now.

As the floor of his top shelf goes back to being a floor, there’s the familiar sound of Damien’s stomping pattern as he finishes getting his shoes on. Yarrop slides back into place and starts getting comfortable again. He nestles back into the stomach folds and braces himself so it’s harder to get knocked off. 

“Phone, walle’, keys, string thing… anythin’ I’m missin’?” Damien asks. Yarrop can feel Damien pressing on the wall behind him again. 

“The ticket?” Co pipes in. 

[ticket] Yarrop texts Damien. Hopefully he’ll notice the previous text at the same time. 

“Ticke’, ticke’, ticke’...” Damien says, taking his hand away. “And ya can’t stab me if ya get knocked off while I’m on the bus. I do not con’rol the bus. And ahhhhhh okay yea the ticke’s in my wallet.” 

“You better not be stabbing anyone while we’re in here, Yarrop. I’d rather not sit in a puddle of blood, thank you very much,” Co says pointedly.

Yarrop flicks out a knife, showing it over the edge of his shelf. “I make no promises,” he says, putting the knife away just as quick.

“I’m temporarily designating this a no stab zone," Co declares.

Yarrop rolls his eyes. 

“Temporarily?” Ribbonsy questions.

“I mean. Whatever they do when we’re not here is not our business.” Co answers. 

That’s where Yarrop starts ignoring them again. There’s a slight jostling, paired with the sound of the door closing and fast footsteps. 

His brain is torn. Usually, the sound of Damien’s inner workings means that it’s a great time to take a nap. However, the presence of other people means that no matter what, he won’t be able to fall asleep. So he’s stuck with feelings of exhaustion, but too awake to do anything about it. It’s annoying. 

When was the last time he had to share stomach space? It wasssss… oh. Yeah. That. The heartbeat pulsing behind his back is speeding up, and the lining starts to redden as Damien jogs. 

Last time he was here with other people, Yarrop was high as a kite. It was with a couple ‘friends’, trying and failing to hotbox it. In their drug haze, they forgot that fire didn’t react with shrunken things. No fire means no smoke, no smoke means no hotboxing. It was probably for the better - they were already pretty fucked up. 

Yarrop wonders how they’re doing. He wonders if the parasite is still alive. He hopes they’re doing shitty. It would be what they deserve. Not that Yarrop’s any better, really. They just did to him what he’d already done to others a few times by that point - ghosting and moving on as soon as he stopped dealing. 

Frustration and bitterness bubbles under his skin, his arms burning with the need to punch something. 

Yarrop’s thoughts are interrupted by a more intense wave of peristalsis, flattening him against the ceiling. He pushes back against it and sighs. At least Damien’s still around. As the muscles relax again, Yarrop gives it a pat. 

He idly muses about how many times Damien’s stopped a self destructive spiral, either on purpose or accidentally. How many times he’s stopped suicide attempts. 

That’s not a good train of thought to go down either. These half-awake exhausted moods are the worst. Frustration bubbles up again, this time mostly with himself. 

Fuck it. Yarrop sits up, scooping a handful of… saliva? Stomach acid? Something. He scoops a big handful of it and drops it off the ledge onto Co’s face this time.

“Hey!” Co splutters. “That’s it, I’m coming up! I’ve got a rock and I know how to use it! Ribbonsy, sweet, will you aid my quest for domination and conquest?” 

“Of course, hun.” 

[vorefluff]

Morning Routine, Chapter 8

Chapter 8 of "Breathe Life, Outrunning Our Doom"

Find the rest of the story and overall tws here!

POV: Damien

Wordcount: 3.3k

Damien waking up and starting the day.

Note: I'm going to start putting chapter art at the bottom of the post. This is mostly to avoid spoilers and such in the future.

Damien’s alarm goes off for the third time, and he hits the snooze again. It is just the third time, right? Damien blindly feels his alarm clock for…. there. With a button press, the clock reads out the time in a robotic voice. 6:30 am. Yeah alright. Just like he thought. He should get up soon, but he still has another two alarms before he has to get up. Rolling onto his back, he rubs his eyes and looks blankly at the dark ceiling. Vague shapes swirl quietly. Ichor drips.

With a deep breath, Damien starts the process of properly waking up. Drowsiness keeps pulling his eyes closed. Pressing his palm into his stomach, he massages idly. There’s sounds of peeping and skittering from the back of the room. Sounds like the babies are awake too.

Soon enough, movement starts stirring inside his stomach - Yarrop waking up. Dang his mouth is so dry right now. He debates getting up. Pros - water. Cons - moving. Moving meant actually starting the day. Staying put feels like the better option right now, honestly. 

His alarm goes off again. 

So much for ‘staying put’. Damien rolls back over and hits snooze again, then reaches a bit further for his water bottle. Of course, in doing so, he smears his face through the drool on his pillow. With a yawn, he sits up and feels the weight in his stomach roll. He wipes his face again and pops open the top of the bottle. With a deep breath, he slots it into the gap in his snaggly teeth, and tips his head back. He takes one big gulp - partly to wet his throat, partly to piss off Yarrop. 

Instantly there’s a flurry of movement as Yarrop makes it well known that he doesn’t approve. Damien snickers, then takes another mouthful of water just to hold and help with the dry mouth bit. If Yarrop was drowsy before, he sure as heck isn’t anymore. Damien grins. If he has to suffer being awake, then so does his passenger. 

After a few seconds, he swallows his second mouthful of water. “Mornin’” Damien says with a yawn. His phone buzzes with a notification, which he doesn’t bother checking. He’s sure he already knows what it is.

Mmmmmm now the question is, does he get up, or does he procrastinate until his alarm goes off again? It's quite important to not get too distracted. His hand drifts back to his stomach. 

Damien’s guts start grumbling as his internal systems start waking up and working too. His wide grin softens to a pleased smile. Procrastination it is. Damien sets his water bottle back on his nightstand and lays back down, pressing his palm into his stomach again. A quiet purr rumbles in his chest. It feels easier to focus his mind with someone inside. Some low level sensory input that takes up a comforting space in the back of his head. Like getting a good song stuck in your head and rocking with it as your theme song for the day. 

The slowly swirling colors and the dripping ichor from the ceiling makes for such a pretty scene this morning. Raising his other hand, Damien moves his fingers as if playing piano. Pulling and pushing colors, weaving an illusion of stars and galaxies layered with a bright dancing green light like an aurora borealis. The painted sky drips, and it’s almost like he can touch the starlight. He wishes he could take a picture of it, but sadly hallucination and illusion alike don’t get caught on camera. It’s clearer and brighter than anything he could see naturally, even with his glasses. Which he refuses to wear. 

With the latest use of his illusions, his hallucinations expand to include bright glowing abstract shapes along the walls. 

Damien jumps as his alarm goes off again, a loud obnoxious repetitive ear splitting sound. He dismisses the illusion with a wave of his hand, and turns off his alarm. Sighing heavily, Damien swings his feet over the side of the bed and stands up. No more procrastination. 

Damien briefly stops by the plastic tub with the baby chicks in it, checking the temperature of the box and making sure they’re doing alright. He gently picks up one of them - Favio - and pets her little head. She peeps very loudly, putting her entire tiny body into it. Damien smiles. A chick after his own heart. He’ll come back for proper maintenance in a bit - getting the food and water topped up and such. Right now, they’re all doing alright. 

Setting down the chick, he stands up. He picks up his phone from his nightstand to check the message.

[Im gnna fucking stab you.] From Yarrop, of course. Yeah, exactly what Damien thought it was. 

“Ya stab me, I getta stab ya back,” Damien says, pocketing his phone and heading out. 

The weight in his stomach slowly shifts. Damien snickers as he pictures Yarrop sulking and sliding down the lining. 

“Damien?” Co calls. 

“I’m comin’ ‘m comin’!” Damien yells back.

“You’ve got Yarrop?” Co asks as Damien steps out into the kitchen. 

“Yea, gimme a sec,” Damien says with a vaguely dismissive handwave. 

“Figures. That’s usually the case when Yarrop doesn’t answer in the morning,” Co says, leaning on the counter and taking a sip of his steaming drink. Probably some sort of coffee. 

Damien picks up a thingy from the dish drying rack. It’s a rather long flexible smooth plastic string with a small weight at one side. After a quick inspection to make sure it’s actually clean, Damien drops the end with the weight down his throat and swallows. The weight just gives something for his throat to latch onto and help make sure the string doesn’t bunch up weirdly. 

Since he has almost no gag reflex, this is miles easier than trying to get Yarrop out the old fashioned way. Spending nearly half an hour sticking his fingers down his throat to try and trigger it isn’t exactly fun for anyone, and he’ll gladly take an alternative. Been there, done that, no thanks. 

Within a couple seconds, there’s two quick kicks from Yarrop. Time to wait for him to get situated. Damien leans back on the counter opposite of Co, who is not so subtle in watching the process. 

Damien raises an eyebrow at Co. “What, in’erested in gettin’ in the soon-ta-be-emp’y stomach again?” he teases, having to put a little more effort into talking around the plastic string thing. 

Co shakes his head. “Nah. Just bored. Not much else to look at.” 

Damien shrugs. “Fair ‘nough.” His hand drifts back to his stomach. 

“Do you want eggs? I’m making eggs after this,” Co offers.

Damien perks up. “Heck yea!”

“Fried or scrambled?” 

“Fried,” Damien answers. He feels what mayyyy have been a kick from Yarrop? Hard to tell, he was too busy thinking about eggs. Oh well. If it was, he’ll kick again in a second. 

“Cheese?” 

Damien nods enthusiastically. Annnd there’s the kicking again. Okay, okay, fine. He wraps his hand in the extra length of the string and tugs a little bit. Slowly until he can feel the pressure of Yarrop pushing back into his esophagus. Then, he pulls harder. It’s easy to suppress the little bit of gag reflex that does manage to present itself. 

Within seconds, Damien reaches up and pulls out a soaked and dripping Yarrop from his maw. Damien grins, and fights the very strong urge to either bite or swallow him again. His stomach growls. Yarrop looks down at it and then back up at Damien, raising an eyebrow. 

Gah! Okay. Damien forces himself to walk to the kitchen sink and give Yarrop a quick rinse. He deftly helps undo the makeshift harness Yarrop made with the end of the plastic string thing. 

“Got any tips for not gagging, choking, and or puking when retrieving like that?” Co asks. 

“Get good,” Damien says with a shrug. He turns and starts towards a chair. Do not bite Yarrop. Do not. Don’t do it. Dooooon’t. No. 

“Very helpful.”

“I know.” Damien sets Yarrop on a stool near the counter, and then starts backing up a few steps.

Toe to heel, just out of curiosity of a more precise distance it takes. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. On step 7, it’s like someone released the pressure on a vacuum chamber and Yarrop starts returning to his normal size. It just takes a couple seconds. And of course, since the water and gunk was never shrunk in the first place, Yarrop comes out of it much drier. A couple drops of water are scattered here and there though.

Yarrop shakes his head as if to clear it and stretches. His joints pop loud enough to make Co wince. Oooo yea that’s a good idea. Damien bends backwards, his fists at the base of his spine as he cracks it. Co wrinkles his nose at Damien, and Damien snickers.

“Do you want eggs too?” Co asks, pointedly ignoring Damien and turning to Yarrop. 

Yarrop takes a deep breath and leans forward, elbows on the counter. After a moment of consideration, Yarrop nods. Damien takes up a seat next to Yarrop and kicks his feet idly. 

Co fills a cup with water. “Cheese?” he asks, bringing over the water and a med cup to Yarrop. 

Yarrop shakes his head and accepts both cups.

Damien’s mind wanders. Now that it’s been a day since the movie, there should be some better quality movie analysis videos. And also ones that point out easter eggs.

His stomach growls loudly, and he briefly glances at Yarrop. Smuggling the household in for the movie yesterday was a lot of fun. He’s certain that one of the workers noticed his hood moving after coming out of the restroom, and was just not paid enough to care. Small passengers - especially outside the body - are banned for safety reasons, but when has he ever really cared about that? It turned out just fine.

It makes him wonder if there’s any other movies coming up that he could potentially smuggle for again. Open an under the table movie smuggling business? Or just smuggling in general. It doesn't have to be movies. Although he’s not sure he could really pull off the whole smuggling thing in any serious way. 

Idle thoughts of getting internet famous and hosting ‘meet and eats’ drift through his head. There’s a lot of people that’d love to take a trip inside a celeb. Some celebs do host things like that - although there’s usually a whole lot of red tape and waivers and paperwork and safety precautions and stuff for it. Maybe he could get around it with just a simple ‘at your own risk’ disclaimer. He doesn’t care too much about the risk of getting stabbed. He’s sure his guts have a fair share of scarring from Yarrop already, a bit more won't make a difference. 

Damien looks up at the sound of sizzling, watching Co crack eggs into a pan. Co’s talking about something, but that’s not important right now. His full attention is on eggy. Although, now that he’s thinking about it, eggs probably won’t be enough.  

Everything just keeps circling back to eating something, honestly. It’s the only thing on his brain, and his guts are not happy about having to let go of Yarrop. Damien looks at him again. 

Yarrop turns to look back, as if sensing his staring. “No, ya can’t eat me after breakfast. I got shit to do today,” Yarrop says firmly, interrupting Co. 

Co snickers and glances over at Damien as well. 

Damien pouts at being shot down before he’s even said anything, and glares at Co for snickering. “I’ll eat you too,” Damien threatens.

“No thanks,” Co says. Damien catches a glimpse of a smile before Co turns back to the stove. “Well, as I was saying -” 

“Do we have leftover rice?” Damien asks, interrupting Co again. 

Co turns back. "I think so. Do you want some?" 

"Would ya be willin' to make breakfast burritos? The ones with rice and hashbrowns and egg and bacon and sausage all together," Damien requests, tapping on the counter with enthusiasm. 

"Sure, but you get to take care of the dishes afterwards. Yarrop, want any?" Co asks.

Yarrop looks towards Co, pausing for a moment. “Maybe a little hashbrown.”  

"Got it. These will be your eggs then, and I’ll get everything else going in a moment," Co responds, turning back to the stove. 

"What were you sayin' before?" Yarrop asks Co.

"Oh, right. I was saying…." 

Damien stops paying attention again. Golden veins spiderweb their way across various surfaces. The walls, the counters, the microwave. It’s pulsing like it has a heartbeat. He muses about what would happen if he bit it, what golden blood would taste like. Would it be better than a burrito? Probably not. Unless it's one of those things where it's what he imagines it will taste like, or what his favorite food is. 

What is his favorite food? Does Yarrop count as a food? Although, if all it did was taste like Yarrop, it wouldn't be that great. The best part of eating him is what comes after he's down the gullet. Especially if Damien can piss him off. The movements feel funny and tickles Damien’s brain in just the right way. In addition to making it easier to focus, it helps him chill out a bit, so he isn’t as likely to snap at people. Like Ribbonsy.  

Annnnnd his thoughts are circling back to eating. Again. He glances over at Yarrop, just in time for two sunny side up eggs to be placed in front of him. Damien narrows his eyes and kicks impatiently.

Yarrop notices, and a menacing rubbing-it-in-your-face grin stretches across his face as he takes his time popping the yolk and mixing things together. He nibbles on it slowly, and it's so infuriating that it takes a significant amount of Damien’s self control not to steal the eggs. He feels like a feral creature that's been trapped in polite company. Well. Not that Yarrop is polite. 

Damien does the second best thing, and weaves a small illusion of a small Damien on the counter. The little Damien scurries across to Yarrop’s plate, stealing the eggs and skittering away with them. 

Yarrop smacks it, startling Co with the sound. Damien turns it into a small flattened Damien with the video game text 'You Died' floating above it. The illusionary eggs are splattered around it like a crime scene. 

Co shakes his head in amusement. Yarrop chuckles and keeps nibbling. 

Damien makes it explode, and adds in some explodey vocal sounds to really sell it.

He starts thinking about battle strategies. Purely theoretically, of course. However, if he jumps over the counter, he might catch Co by surprise. Maybe even get him halfway to the stomach before he realizes what is going on. From there, he could hunt Yarrop and throw him in too. And maybe finish up with the rest of breakfast, as the cherry on top. Wouldn't want all that to go to waste. Purely theoretically, of course, of course. 

Damien wipes a strand of drool from his face. Oh the woes of not being able to close his mouth all the way. It’s a little bit annoying sometimes. However, he still doesn’t regret the choice to keep his teeth like this instead of going through the intense dentistry to cut them down, move them into place, fill in the gaps, and all that stuff. Pointy teeth are better for biting, and biting is fun. Like biting Yarrop. Yes he’s circling back to that again. 

Can he think of anything other than eating people right now? He looks over to Co working at the stove. The answer to that is a firm resounding No. Co’s the perfect eating shape. Not nearly as many pokey edges like Yarrop, much easier on the throat. Out of everyone that Damien has eaten, Co is definitely up towards the top of that tier list. 

"He’s thinkin' about jumping over the counter to eat you," Yarrop warns Co. Traitor.

"Still not interested," Co says with a laugh. "Yesterday was an extraordinarily rare opportunity, and it isn't happening again any time soon. Hope you enjoyed it while it lasted~" Co teases.

Damien grumbles. "I jus' needa find another nearly sold ou' movie ya wanna see." 

"That won't work next time. Next time there's a movie smuggling, you get the privilege of seeing my stomach instead," Co states.

Damien scowls.

"I don’t think that's a good idea, Casper," Yarrop chimes in. 

"Oh?" Co inquires. 

"He got banned from participating in the emergency drills and demonstrations in school because he'd cause serious problems for the guts of the instructors," Yarrop says with a smirk.

Damien glows with pride. "I had jus' learned abou' the scien'ific method and I was bored and I wan'ed to prove my theories," Damien says, then pauses. "An' also I jus' really hate it. So mayyyybe I was a problem on purpose."

Co does that noise from sucking air through his teeth while he wraps the burrito. Damien’s eyes are fixated on it. "Maybe I did dodge a bullet then, by letting you smuggle us in instead." 

"An' if you smuggled us in, you'd have put me, Yarro', and Ribsy together in a small space. Someone was gonna be in the ER before the movie even started," Damien comments lightly. Most of his attention is focused on that burrito. 

Yarrop nods in agreement. Co winces. 

“I dunno. I thought yesterday went alright. Why do you two not like Ribbonsy anyway?” Co asks, setting down the burrito in front of Damien. 

Co barely lets go of the burrito before Damien snatches it and immediately takes a giant bite. Conversation forgotten. Maybe a bit too big of a bite. He can feel it strain against his airways as he swallows, and it inches incredibly slowly. 

Yarrop’s expression sours and darkens. “I’m not a toy to be fixed, or fucking inspiration porn. Ribsy’s critical, annoying, and talks to us like children. They needa shut the fuck up and mind their own business.”

Damien nods while he struggles with his burrito. It’s going! He’s not choking - he can still breathe. It’s not in his airways at all. It’s just stuck weird. His impatience and enthusiasm for a Good Burrito threatens to be his undoing. It’s a battle for the ages - Damien vs his burrito. 

Co purses his lips, and looks like he’s carefully picking his next words. “I don’t think -”

“I don’t care,” Yarrop says flatly. 

Co sighs.

In the great battle between Damien and his burrito, Damien emerges victorious. He celebrates by taking another large bite of burrito. Ah. Here we go again. Did he learn his lesson? No, absolutely not. 

“How are the chicks doing?” Co asks, changing the subject. 

Damien perks up, taking a moment to work the second too-big bite of burrito down. 

“Do you need a cup of water?” Co asks, concerned. 

Damien pauses, then nods. Yeah that’s a good idea. He should have thought of that sooner.

Co fills a cup and passes it over. The water definitely helps in winning the war against the burrito. 

“The chicks are good! Izzy is always followin’ Favio around an’ it’s cute. Velder fell asleep with her head in the food bowl the other day. Ester keeps diggin’ holes in the shavings. Do you wanna see ‘em?” Damien asks, kicking excitedly.

“After breakfast. Any chance I can hold them yet?” Co asks with a smile.

Damien nods enthusiastically. 

[vorefluff]

Knives and Daggers

A chapter focused on Co, from Co’s POV and his dynamic primarily with Yarrop, but also a bit of Ribbonsy and Damien as well. 

Overall tws for the story can be seen here, on the masterpost! If there’s a tw not covered by the masterpost, or that you’d like on individual chapters that contain the subject, please let me know and I will happily add it!

Here’s a drawing of Co!

Co is in the kitchen making himself a macchiato with soy milk, double espresso, and hazelnut syrup. One of life’s greatest pleasures. Lofi beats plays in the background - that one that has the image of a girl studying at a desk that’s so popular. 

As he’s about to take his first sip, Yarrop storms out. He glances around, then locks eyes with Co. There’s a sort of dangerous intensity to it. Co raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Damien around?” Yarrop growls. 

Co shakes his head. “Damien’s still out picking up some baby chicks. It’ll be a while - you know how he is.”

Yarrop paces, a hand up by the side of his head as he opens and closes his fist repeatedly. That’s not a good sign.

“Are you alright?” Co asks, putting down his drink. 

“I am a threat to myself and others,” Yarrop says bluntly. Direct and to the point, as usual. 

“Anything I can help with?” Co asks, not quite sure how to handle this. It’s not a statement Co takes lightly, especially coming from Yarrop. 

“I will stab you,” Yarrop warns, making eye contact again. The force behind the stare feels like it’ll bore holes through Co’s skull. 

“Understood,” Co says, nodding and looking to the wall instead. There’s strike one. Don’t offer help? Is that what he’s supposed to get out of that?

Yarrop turns to the living room, grabbing the remote and changing the tv from music to gaming, pulling up some first person shooter as he crashes back on the couch. 

Co pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts Damien. 

[How do you calm down Yarrop? To quote - “I am a threat to myself and others”.] annd send. Co leans back, elbows on the counter, as he watches Yarrop play. 

Co watches a Yarrop plays progressively bolder and sloppier, leading to quicker and quicker death screens. Watches a Yarrop gets more and more frustrated with each one, progressing from growling to slamming his fist on the back of the couch. 

Finally, his phone dings. 

[eat him]

The corners of Co’s mouth pull back, his lips pressing to a thin line as he glances back up to Yarrop. Not so sure about that one. Another ding, with a third immediately after. 

[punch him first]

[inpourtent to punch first]

Right. Co’s not sure what else he was expecting, really. 

Hitting someone isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind when it comes to calming people down. Ribbonsy is also coming home soon, and as much as he loves them, they’d probably make matters worse. Ribbonsy isn’t exactly known for getting along with the dastardly duo. The duo tend not to react to Ribbonsy’s brand of help and positivity well. 

Obviously, Yarrop is looking for Damien’s brand of ‘calming down’, having asked for him by name.

And, well, it does make sense. Prove an outlet, a release of steam, and then keep Yarrop from re-triggering himself. 

[I’ll give it a shot. Thanks.] Co messages back, and puts his phone away. 

Co looks up to a string of curses and the game controller being thrown hard enough to bounce off the back of the second couch. 

“Want to fight?” Co asks. Here goes nothing. 

Yarrop tilts his head back, looking at Co upside down over the armrest. “Ya better not be fuckin’ with me,” he growls. 

“Genuine offer,” Co says with a nod. 

“I’m using knives,” Yarrop states, sitting up. 

“Got any with dull edges?” Co asks. He’d rather get to know someone’s style before going right to sharp edges. 

Yarrop rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says, standing up. 

“Real quick - what’s the snapping thing you have with Damien? I’ve noticed it when you guys fight, so I’m assuming it’s important.”

Yarrop sighs. “One, slow. Two, pause. Three, full stop. Four, medical care.”

Co nods. “Gotcha, gotcha. Do you want breakthrough pain meds? Either for now or afterwards?” 

Yarrop shakes his head.

Co nods again. “Well, I’ll go grab a couple dull blades of my own and I’ll meet you in the backyard,” he says and the two of them head to their respective rooms.  

Co grabs the pair of decorative daggers he has up on his wall. They’re plenty dull. And the smallest thing that he has that’s dull - all of his proper knives are rather sharp, and he doesn’t feel much like ruining the edges. 

Co is the first one to the backyard, and he idly twirls his daggers in his hand as he waits. Getting used to the weight and grip.

As Yarrop comes into the backyard, Co holds up the daggers by the blades to show how dull they are. “These alright?” Co asks. 

Yarrop nods and takes up his position opposite of Co, two knives of his own in his hands. 

“Ready?” Co asks. 

Yarrop nods. 

“Go.”

Click, Yarrop disappears and there’s a rush of air beside him. Co instinctively ducks away before his brain even really processes what’s happening. There’s a hard brush of metal to the side of his ribs. If this were a real fight, with proper sharp knives and an intent to kill, that could have punctured a lung. Damn Yarrop can be terrifying, especially with that teleportation ability. Co turns and manages to get a glimpse of Yarrop.

Click, Yarrop disappears again. There’s a rush of air from behind him milliseconds before there’s a slam of metal across his back. That’ll leave a bruise. 

Click. Co moves, the clink of metal on metal sounding like a bell of victory beside him. He manages to catch a glimpse of a wide toothy grin from Yarrop.

Click. A rush of air in front of him, and Co starts to move. 

Click. Beside him again, without a front attack at all. The dull knife bounces off Co’s shoulder. Co takes a step backwards

Click. Metal on metal. Co grins. 

Click. Metal on metal. He’s getting the hang of this. 

Click. Behind. Pain in the back of his calf. That’ll leave another bruise, fuck. Co takes another step back. 

Click. Co turns to defend, but there’s no rush of air around him. Co looks around, confused, and spots Yarrop a little way off, chest heaving. Okay. 

“Did I miss finger snaps?” Co asks. It takes a second for thoughts and such to catch up after leaning so heavily on instinct. 

Yarrop shakes his head, coughing hard. 

“You alright ov-”

Click. There’s a rush of air, and metal pressed against his adams apple. 

Co moves before his brain has a chance to process as his heartrate spikes through the roof and proper adrenaline kicks in. The hilt of his dagger slams into the arm holding the knife to his neck. 

Click. Co is already turning when the air hits him, the hilt of his second dagger slamming into Yarrop’s hand, forcing him to drop a knife. Co can see Yarrop’s eyes widen in surprise.

Click. Co forces himself to stop for a millisecond. This is for Yarrop to release steam. Defensive, not offensive…. Where’s the next attack? Co looks up to see Yarrop a little ways away, looking between Co and the knife at his feet. Probably trying to figure out how to grab it again. 

Co raises an eyebrow and kicks the knife over to Yarrop. 

Yarrop quickly picks it up and flips it in his hand a couple times before settling with his grip. He looks over to Co, and you could almost see the gears turning as he reevaluates. 

Click. Co is ready this time, and metal rings off metal as the rush of air moves his hair. 

Click. Metal off metal.

Click. Click. Click. Metal off metal. 

Click. This time, Co is greeted by a knee coming towards his face. He lets out an undignified yelp and just manages to turn his head enough that the knees land on his shoulders instead. The momentum is enough to take both of them down. 

As soon as Co realizes that falling is inevitable, he relaxes his muscles and flings his arms out to the side to spread out the impact and minimize the damage. As they both hit the ground, Co hears Yarrop rolling. 

Damn it. The grass stains are going to be annoying. He was hoping to keep the fight upright. Oh well. Annnnd the sounds from the direction of Yarrop start getting closer, which is Co’s cue to move. 

Co rolls just in time to see a knife whizz past his face and stick into the dirt. 

“Fuck, man!” Co exclaims, scrambling to stand up again. 

Click. Oh no. A knee slams into Co’s back, driving him back to the ground with a heavy thud that knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s a dirt match now, got it. Message received. 

Click. Co braces for impact, but none comes. Off to the left, there’s the sound of two finger snaps, accompanied by heavy coughing and retching. Two snaps - that’s pause, right? Co sits up and waits, looking somewhere in the opposite direction. He bites back the instinct to check in and ask if Yarrop is okay. 

Eh eugh. Nausea and vomiting are nasty drawbacks to powers. Co was wondering when Yarrop would hit that point, with the back to back uses of it. Co makes a mental note to be careful about any sort of impact or attack to Yarrop’s gut. Don’t need to make it worse.

When the sounds of Yarrop losing his lunch stop and gets replaced by footsteps, Co stands up and turns back to face him. There’s still a strong intensity to his gaze, but it’s lacking some of the dangerous edge it had earlier. 

“Ready,” Yarrop says, taking position opposite Co again.  

“Go,” Co says, wondering which method Yarrop will use to try and get him to the ground again. 

Click. Yarrop’s beside him. Metal rings off metal. 

Co waits for the next click, which never comes. Instead, Yarrop takes advantage of the dull edges by flicking his knife back into his sleeve and grabbing the blade of Co’s dagger. It’s pushed back against Co’s chest with a surprising amount of force, and as he tries to take a step back for balance, it’s blocked. 

Gotcha, more falling. He was hoping to last at least a bit longer on his feet. 

Co does the same as he did last time - relaxing into the fall, spreading out his arms to distribute the impact. 

Well, if Co’s on the ground, Yarrop should be too. As Yarrop takes a step, Co flicks out a patch of ice under his foot. Co’s hand tingles and warms slightly with the use of his power. Yarrop however, has a great oh-shit-I’m-falling face. Co snickers as Yarrop comes crashing down too. 

Now, Co isn’t exactly the best at grappling and wrestling and dirty fighting. Yarrop has far more experience with that, and it’s hard enough fighting Yarrop upright. So Co figures he’d at least try to even the playing field by going a bit more offensive.

Co kicks things off by grabbing Yarrop and rolling on top of him. Yarrop grins. 

The fight continues, both trying to get an advantage over the other. Both deal some damage to the other, but a good lot of it is blocked, mitigated, or dodged. On the surface, it may now look a lot like the fights that Damien and Yarrop have, but the fundamentals and priorities are completely different. 

While Yarrop starts with an advantage, the longer the fight drags on the harder it is for him to keep up. Co, however, feels about the same towards the end of the fight as he did at the beginning. Endurance and moderation.  

Eventually, it comes to an end. Co straddles Yarrop, a dagger to his throat. Both of them are breathing heavily, sweat running trails through the dirt on them and dripping into the grass. Yarrop looks up at him, the intense destructive stare being replaced by exhaustion. For a beat, neither of them move.  

“I take it that this is the part where Damien usually eats you? Should I do the same?” Co asks, pulling the dagger away. 

Yarrop shrugs and closes his eyes. 

Co hesitates. He’s not exactly keen on the idea of eating him. On the other hand, it’s what Damien suggested. What Yarrop said earlier is still stuck in his head. Even in an offhand way, ‘a threat to myself and others’ is not a statement he takes lightly. Does that really mean eating the stabby guy with knives though? Who still has his knives and was just trying to stab him? Surely Yarrop should be fine now, having released steam. But, well, if the point is to keep Yarrop from triggering himself again or starting another episode. Ehhhhh. 

Whatever. Yolo. Co takes a deep breath and bites Yarrop’s shoulder where Damien’s teeth marks are. Although ‘bite’ might be a strong word - Co firmly applies a small bit of pressure with his teeth. That’s more accurate.

Co tries his best to find some sort of middleground between how rough Damien usually is, and his own comfort levels. He knows Yarrop isn’t too keen on gentleness, but Co’s not really a fan of being too rough 

Co takes things a bit faster than he would with Ribbonsy, and builds up saliva as Yarrop becomes smaller between his jaws. Unfortunately, he can’t just swallow someone dry like Damien. He listens carefully for any sort of protesting or finger snapping. However, Yarrop doesn’t seem to have an issue.

At the right size, Co pushes Yarrop into his mouth and grimaces at the taste of dirt. After a quick slicking, he pushes Yarrop all the way back and swallows. Part of him is expecting a line of pain from a knife down his throat, which thankfully doesn’t happen. 

Co sits back on the grass, a hand over his stomach as he waits for Yarrop to get down and settle in. He’s still not entirely sure how he feels about this whole thing. Well. It worked? Threat neutralized? Eugh no that has bad connotations. Crisis averted? Sure. Can’t really complain about that. 

It’s one thing to watch the dastardly duo wrestle, but it’s another thing to be on the other end of Yarrop’s knife when the man is set on dealing damage. 

There’s a newfound respectful… not fear, but hmm. Nooot wariness. Awareness? Something like that. A new level of recognition for Yarrop’s abilities and skills. 

“Just send me a text when you want out, yeah? You have your phone, right?” Co says. He stands up and brushes off the bits of leaves, twigs, and loose dirt. 

A few seconds later, his phone dings. 

[ye] from Yarrop. That’s a relief. 

Co stands up and double checks to make sure they didn’t accidentally drop anything or leave anything behind out here. Pocket pat down. Yeah okay, seems like he’s got everything. He heads inside. 

“Your game is still open. Smack once if you want me to save and close it,” Co says, picking up the controller from the ground and inspecting for damages. There’s the smack. “Cool, cool.”

The controls still work alright. Thankfully, it seems Yarrop grabbed the one that was previously damaged and already slated for replacement. The joystick seems to get a little more stuck now. Although, that could also be due to the new set of unique teeth marks that belong to a certain neon menace. 

Oh well. Regardless, it works well enough to save and quit the game. That done, Co sets down the controller where it belongs and heads to the kitchen. And. Ah. Yeah. His untouched drink on the kitchen counter. Well. Guess he’ll just have to have it iced later. He puts it in the fridge for now.

There’s the familiar sound of Ribbonsy’s van pulling up to the driveway. A grin spreads across Co’s face as he sets down the decorative daggers on the counter and races outside. 

“Sweet!” Co calls from the doorway, using his pet name for Ribbonsy. He is rapidly approaching their location. It’s like a breath of fresh air, and tension he didn’t even realize he was holding relaxes. 

Ribbonsy giggles as they shut the van door. “Hi, hun,” they say, turning to face Co. “Oh my god you look like shit. What happened?” Ribbonsy continues, getting close to fuss over Co. 

Co blushes, his brain short circuiting as Ribbonsy inspects the fresh bruises and brushes off more dirt. Eh heheheh. 

“Casper?” Ribbonsy prompts, looking at his jaw. They grab his chin and tilt his face. 404 error, Co Not Found. 

He pulls away to give his two braincells a chance to produce a coherent thought. “I ahhhh had a fight with Yarrop?” Co offers sheepishly. At the look on Ribbonsy’s face, he instantly backpedals. “A consensual fight! Good fight! I’m okay, I promise, sweet.” 

“And where is Yarrop now?” Ribbonsy asks, making eye contact and raising an eyebrow. 

The corners of Co’s mouth pull back, his lips pressed in a straight line. He isn’t quite sure how to answer that one. Uhhhh he puts a hand to his stomach and shrugs. 

Ribbonsy’s gaze bounces between Co’s stomach and his face, mildly confused. Yeah. Co awkwardly nods and shrugs again. 

“Eh?” Ribbonsy questions. 

“Damien’s out looking at baby birds to bring home and Yarrop was about to break the gaming setup?” Co offers in defense. 

Ribbonsy sighs and shakes their head. “As long as I-” Co’s phone dings. “-don’t have to take you to urgent care tomorrow for Yarrop induced ulcers and internal bleeding.” 

Usually Co would ignore his phone at this moment, but if it was Yarrop he’d rather not get stabbed for not paying attention. He remembers Damien saying that Yarrop’s stabbed him from inside plenty of times. Which. Maybe Co should have thought about.

[damn stomachs red too loverboy] from Yarrop. Okay, it’s all chill.

“Oh hush,” Co replies, then looks up and backpedals again. “Ah! Not you, sweet.”

Ribbonsy sighs and shakes their head in amusement. “So how long are you keeping him anyway?” they ask. 

“Ah. Either until Damien gets home, or Yarrop asks to be let out, whichever comes first.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’ve got to go and do some research and resource gathering. Wanna come back inside with me?” Ribbonsy asks. 

Co nods and grabs their hand, walking back to the house together. 

“How has your day been so far, sweet?” Co asks, realizing he hasn’t yet. 

Ribbonsy thinks for a moment. “A bit harder than most days. There’s some problems I don’t know how to solve.” 

“Well, I believe in you. You’ll be able to figure something out,” Co says, giving them a reassuring smile. 

“Well, I suppose that means I better get started. May I kiss?” Ribbonsy asks with a soft smile. 

Co nods. Ribbonsy leans forward and gives a quick peck to his forehead. Their beard tickles his nose. Co impulsively bats at it like a cat toy.

Ribbonsy pulls away and giggles. “Love ya, hun.” 

“Good luck, sweet,” Co says, watching as Ribbonsy heads off to their room. 

Co makes his way over to the couch, wondering what he should do now. He’s got at least a couple hours to kill until Damien gets home. Maybe a few episodes of a show or something. He curls up on the couch. Changes it over from the game console to Fishflicks as he starts scrolling through the options. 

There’s another new episode of Windfall. However, Damien would be mad if he watched it without him. And he promised Ribbonsy that they’d watch Inner World together. Giddy or Twisty Tree? Maybe. He’s pretty sure Yarrop is watching Giddy at the very least, and wouldn’t appreciate spoilers. 

Co starts mindlessly scrolling through the options of things to start watching. Something will peak his interest.

--------------------------------

A couple episodes later, Co hears the sound of footsteps on the porch. He perks up, quickly pausing his show and looking to the front door. 

The door handle rattles, and Damien comes in holding a small box. From the box comes the sounds of skittering and peeping. 

Co waves, not wanting to disturb Yarrop too much. Damien looks surprised. 

“So ya chickened out?” Damien says with a shit eating grin and holding the box of baby chicks a little bit higher and snickering at his own pun. 

“Chickened out of what?” Co asks, mildly confused. 

“Eatin’ Yarro’.”

“No? I did do that,” Co says. The movement starting to pick up in his stomach would attest to that fact. Co would guess waking up from a nap, given that he hasn’t been moving much before this.  

Damien raises a questioning eyebrow. “An’ yer not in the E.R.?” 

“Werrrre you expecting me to be?” Co asks, his brows furrowed in confusion and his mouth a straight line as he tries to figure out how to feel. 

“Yea.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it’s Yarro’.”

“You told me to do it,” Co says flatly. 

“Ya asked how I handle it, not how you shoul’,” Damien says with a shrug. “Imma be righ’ back I gotta take care of the babies.”

Co’s phone dings as he’s standing up, and Damien heads back to his room. 

[get me out], from Yarrop. 

“Already two steps ahead of you. Die fast get fucked or live long and prosper?”

There’s only a brief pause before his phone dings again. 

[?]

“Puke or string thing?” Co clarifies, reaching the kitchen. 

[die fast eat ass]

“Gotcha, gotcha” Co says, arriving at the kitchen sink. He takes a deep breath and clenches his stomach muscles. “Kick when you’re ready.”

While Yarrop moves into position, Co plucks a spoon from the drying rack. Annnnnd there’s the kick. 

“Here we go,” Co says, hesitating a second before shoving the handle of the spoon in the back of his throat. 

Annnd - hrgh - there. Co’s gag reflex kicks in and he heaves, feeling a lump rising through his chest. 

Footsteps sound down the hall as Co heaves again. The footsteps stop right outside the kitchen. Just in time for Co to reach to the back of his throat and pull out a soggy Yarrop. 

“Huh. So ya did eat ‘im. Sure ya don’ have any broken bones or anythin’? In’ernal bleedin’?” Damien questions.  

Co rinses Yarrop off, coughing a bit. “I mean, I got some bruises?” 

“Tha’s it?” 

“What, were you hoping I’d end up in the hospital?” Co asks, bewildered as he turns off the faucet and turns towards Damien. 

Damien shrugs. “No’ really. If ya were, ya couldn’ cook eggies for me.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” Co asks, amused. He sets Yarrop down on the usual stool near the counter and backs up a few steps. When Yarrop starts returning to his normal size, Co leans on the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen and watches. 

Damien shakes his head, then turns to Yarrop. “So were ya really not tha’ mad?”

It takes Yarrop a moment to reorient. He stretches and pops stiff joints, which Co tries to ignore. The sound makes him shudder. “Genetic donor bullshit,” Yarrop says plainly, giving a very flat look in Damien’s direction.

Damien sucks air through his teeth. “Dang.”

“Sent me a holier than thou invite to another fuckin’ cult,” Yarrop says, resting his chin on crossed arms on the counter. 

“‘K so ready and wantin’ ta kill. So how’d Cas manage ta choke ya down withou’ dying?” Damien asks, sitting next to Yarrop at the counter and kicking his feet. 

Yarrop shrugs. “Good fight.” 

“Him?” Damien asks, raising an eyebrow and pointing a thumb in Co’s direction. 

Co shrugs and picks up his decorative daggers from the counter. “Yarrop’s not the only one that knows his way around a blade.”

Both of Damien’s eyebrows raise, as if he hadn’t considered the idea that the daggers could belong to Co. “A knife fight? With Yarrop? Angry Yarrop?”

“Dull knives,” Yarrop clarifies. 

“If they were real knives, with a genuine intent to kill, he could’ve killed me at least 3 times in the first 20 seconds. Luckily, I’m just getting off with a handful of nasty bruises instead,” Co says, remembering the drink he made earlier. He puts down his daggers and heads to the fridge. 

“Are you makin’ food?” Damien asks, perking up. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, but I can,” Co says, pulling out the drink he made earlier and taking a sip. That’s the good stuff.

“Where’d ya get your training?” Yarrop asks, interrupting Damien’s food tangent and tilting his head in Co’s direction. 

“Hm?” Co questions. 

“Weapon training.”

“That easy to tell?” Co asks, taking another sip of his drink.

“Efficient movement, fancy fallin’ style,” Yarrop says with a vague wave of his hand. 

Co shrugs. “My dad enrolled me in all sorts of self defense classes as a kid. I still sorta keep up on it.”

“Who’d willin’ly pu’ stabby thin’s in the hands of a kid?” Damien asks. 

“My dad, apparently.” 

“Why? Kids are brutal lil pota’oes,”

Co shrugs again. “I dunno. Boys need to be tough and strong or bullshit like that.”

“You had stabby things as a kid,” Yarrop says, turning to Damien. 

Damien grins. “But my paren’s were tryin’ to take away my stabby thin’s.” 

“I had stabby things as a kid.”

“Yeah, well, your gene’ic donors deserve a slow an’ painful death,” Damien says, wrinkling his nose. 

“One down, one to go,” Yarrop mutters. 

“I don’ think yer dad’s death was slow or painful enough. Too fas’, too easy,” Damien says and scowls. 

Yarrop puts his face down on the counter and raises a hand, snapping three times. Full stop. His shoulders start shaking slightly. Co can empathize. The conversation was starting to stray into uncomfortable territory for him too. 

“You wanted food? Anything in particular?” Co asks, turning to Damien and changing the subject. 

“Mmmmmmmmm eggy and hash browns?” Damien suggests.

“Sure. Want any, Yarrop? Or have any requests?” Co asks, setting down his drink and opening the fridge again. 

Yarrop takes a deep breath. It takes him a moment to answer. “Protein shake.”

[vorefluff]

Introductions

Just an experimental little snippet of a story! If people enjoy it, I might do some more with this crew. Damien, Yarrop, Co, and Ribbonsy. 

1.2k words, safe v0re.

Ribbonsy leans dramatically on Co as they sit on the couch. Yarrop’s gaming is a bit boring. Nothing is processing right. It’s just a bunch of sounds and images to them at the moment. “I’m coooooooold,” they complain lightheartedly. 

“Are you?” Co says and raises his eyebrow, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Mhm,” Ribbonsy hums and nods. 

Co shrugs. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about that.” 

Ribbonsy recognizes the teasing tone to Co’s voice, taking it as a subtle cue that they’re okay to continue. In mock protest, Ribbonsy stretches out and lays across Co, trapping the man in place. “Liar.”

“Well I suppose - “ Co starts, cut short by the front door slamming open. 

“Where’s Yarrop?” Damien interrupts. 

Co points at the other couch, where Yarrop is laying on his side playing his games. Yarrop lazily looks up and sighs. He pauses and hits the button to save. 

Damien wastes no time and makes a beeline for the man that takes fashion tips from a swamp. No pleasantries, no questions, nothing - Damien just straight up bites Yarrop’s exposed shoulder. Yarrop rolls his eyes. Here he goes again. 

“You suppose what?” Ribbonsy asks Co, redirecting back to their conversation. 

“I suppooooose I might be able to help a bit,” Co says and gives them a peck on the forehead. His gaze drifts back to Yarrop, who’s rapidly shrinking in Damien’s jaws.

Ribbonsy follows his glance. “Just don’t bite me.” 

“You know I only bite if you ask,” Co chuckles. At this point, Yarrop looked like a chew toy in Damien’s jaws. Damien tosses his head back carelessly and swallows, Yarrop disappearing down his gullet in the blink of an eye. 

“And don’t do that either,” Ribbonsy says, offering the back of their hand to Co. 

“Already made up your mind, huh? Lets get your hair braided first. I don’t care much for swallowing a cotton ball today.” Co twirls his fingers in the long gravity defying strands of Ribbonsy’s hair. 

Ribbonsy sighs and rolls over onto their front, so Co could easier help braid. “I suppoooooose,” they say, playfully echoing Co’s tone from a moment ago. They take a large section of their own hair and start braiding. 

Co starts braiding a section too, taking care to make it look nice, as opposed to Ribbonsy’s method of quick and functional. 

The sound of the fridge opening has the two looking up again. Damien rummages through, pauses, then shrugs and pulls out the milk carton. And. Drinks directly from the jug. 

“Why are you like this?” Co asks him, exasperated.

Damien pauses for a moment. “Who cares? There’s only a cup left anyway,” he says and finishes off the jug. 

“Alright, alright, fine. Don’t forget to rinse it!” Co says, keeping an eye out. 

Damien, who was very clearly about to throw it in the recycle without rinsing it, rolls his eyes and stops at the sink.

Co turns his attention back to Ribbonsy. “Milk. Milk! It curdles! It’s the worst thing to put in with a passenger. I have no idea how Yarrop puts up with that,” he says with a head shake as he reaches about the halfway point of the braid. 

“I don’t have a clue. If you ever dumped milk on my head like that, I’d move out,” Ribbonsy says bluntly.

“Awh. But I’d be so loooonely.” Co whines.

“You’d still have Lance,” Ribbonsy points out.

“That would be so awkward. Here’s my boyfriend, and then here’s my boyfriend’s partner, that just happens to be my ex that dumped me,”

“You’d be the one that dumped me, the moment you dump milk on my head,” Ribbonsy clarifies.

Co sighs dramatically.

“That’s your choice! Don’t dump milk on my head, or be lonely,” Ribbonsy says and pats Co’s cheek with finality.

“Alright, alright. You win. I suppose I won’t dump milk on your head,” Co says, gathering the hair sections in between his fingers on one hand and putting both his hands up in surrender.

“You say that like you were considering doing it,” Ribbonsy says, raising an eyebrow at him in concern.

“Nah. You don’t have to worry. I wouldn’t do that to you, promise. I’m just teasing, sweet.” Co says as he finishes the braid he was working on. When he lets go of it, it gently floats away.

“You better not,” Ribbonsy says, rolling back over and holding their hand out to Co again. 

Co takes it and gently kisses the back of it, holding his lips there. All that’s really needed is lip contact, and he isn’t crude like Damien who would just bite someone. At least, not without asking first.

On a non-physical level, Co sort of… pulls. The more he pulls, the faster Ribbonsy decreases in size. So he keeps it at a decent pace - not too fast, to avoid disorientation. Certainly slower than what they had witnessed a few moments ago.

Ribbonsy looks around as they shrink, never getting tired of the way their perspective warps. As the room becomes massive, as the coffee table stretches to look like a football field, as the carpet turns to rough terrain. 

Soon enough, Co’s ‘kiss’ covers their entire forearm. At this scale, his beard looks wild and unkempt. Ribbonsy runs their hand free hand through it, and Co snickers. 

Co moves Ribbonsy a bit away from his face. “Still want to warm up?”

“I dunno, maybe I should just stay out and get frostbite. Make this whole thing unnecessary,” Ribbonsy says and gestures vaguely.

“Alright, alright, if that’s what you want,” Co says with a shrug and starts moving the lad even further away. 

“No! I meant it as a joke! Get your face back over here!” Ribbonsy protests, smacking Co’s palm to add emphasis.

“Alright, alright,” Co says, trying not to laugh. He brings Ribbonsy back to his face and rolls out the red carpet. 

Ribbonsy climbs onto Co’s tongue and gets comfortable, letting the warm air wash over them. They can imagine Co’s fruity breath, although both smell and taste as senses you lose when small. Ribbonsy tucks their braids under them so they don’t get caught on Co’s teeth. “Okay I’m good.”

Co pulls his tongue back in with Ribbonsy on it, careful not to knock them into his teeth on the way in. He hums as Ribbonsy lays there for a moment. 

“HEY CASPER!” Damien shouts. 

Co startles, and then sighs. 

“Caaaaasperrrrrrrrr,” Damien calls again from the end of the house. 

Fiiiiiiine, fine. Co stands up and starts heading towards Damien’s room, across from Ribbonsy’s. 

“Casper!” 

Ok, ok. Co gently swallows, sending Ribbonsy down a bit sooner than he’d have liked.

“CAS-”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Co yells back after he frees his mouth. He gently runs his thumb over where Ribbonsy rests inside as he walks. 

Co opens Damien’s door and leans on the doorframe. “What do you need?” He asks as he surveys the scene. ‘Art’ projects everywhere, and a very very liberal amount of eye searingly bright neon colors on everything. Co let them paint their walls, and Damien’s chosen to have three hypersaturated colors. Two red walls, a green, and a cyan. Which is… not something Co would have chosen, that’s for sure. But, well, he can always paint the walls back to a more normal color after Damien moves out. 

Damien turns towards Co and gives a toothy grin. “Peo’le were mean in the video game and now I wanna ruin their day.”

“That’s it?” Co asks. This is what Damien interrupted him for?

“Yeah. So you in?”

Co sighs. “Sure,” he says, holding his hand out.

“Hell yea!” Damien says and throws a controller Co’s way. 

Co lunges forward to catch it and nearly misses. He shakes his head and plops down on a bean bag on the floor next to Damien. 

“How’s Yarrop holding up?” Co asks, pointing his thumb towards Damien’s midsection. 

Damien shrugs. “Lotsa kicking.” 

“One of these days he’s going to stab you, you know that right? You’ve seen that guy’s knife collection.”

Damien waves it off. “Yeah, yeah. He’s done that plen’y. He always has at least three knives on him, yadda yadda yadda. I’m fine.”

Co winces. The idea of getting stabbed from the inside, multiple times, and still remaining friends is. Certainly something. The idea of stabbing someone from inside and still remaining friends is.

Eugh. Anyway. Co turns his attention back to the game he’s been roped into joining. “So what’re we doing?” 

“Trolling the hell out of these guys until they rage quit.”

“What did they do?”

“They insulted my outfit.”

Co looked at the clashing color combinations, horrendously clipping pieces, and nothing that makes sense put together on Damien’s character model. “Isn’t that the point?”

[vorefluff]

I drew this back for the US election and then never posted it haha

[vorefluff]

Damien does not appreciate his skin getting stretched -w- careful there yarrop or he might decide to munch on you