#twomp fanfic

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

👁💊My Medicine is underdeveloped and my Amygdala won't work.💉👁

Twomp[AU] fanfiction + art !! Pertains to the events in this post. [No beta we die.]

⚠️‼️TW: VOMITING / OVERDOSE / SUICIDAL IDEATION / UNREALITY / CORRUPT MENTAL HEALTH SYSTEM / GENERAL MENTAL ILLNESS THEMES‼️⚠️

A/N: i didnt wanna mention it tbh but just in case, ive been down the chemical consumption road 3 times, an i mention because i know the internet has opinions on mental illness in writing. But ive been there myself. All up close and personal like. so i think i can speak on it (dont castrate me)

POV: 👁Argos👁

I scratch at my skin in the dark of my room as if that'll hold in the tears from spilling over my burning red cheeks. The feeling of rage and overwhelming depression clash within me, and leave me to switch every few minutes between cursing the name of every therapist who ever told me that "I'm not even trying to get better" and crying over the idea that they might be right.

My heartbeat is so vigorous that it feels like at any moment the tendons will tear away and my heart will burst in my ribs. How could anyone say that to me? I seethe and hiss through my gritting teeth. Why can't I get better? I cry enough to fill an ocean and nearly drown in my tears.

I should be able to control all of this by now, I'm not a child. Yet, I can't stop thinking about putting the heads of those who hurt me on a platter. Or banging my head on my bedroom wall hard enough to dull the heartbreak. My eyes are running dry from all the tears, I've been at this for a while. My head is pounding from the adrenaline. All reasonable thoughts are drowned out, with intrusive and irrational ones taking the place of my internal voice of reason.

I can make it better, I can make this better. I just need to try a little harder! Just.. go a little further. These feelings, it's just a chemical imbalance right?

I'm running out of options, types of therapy, pills, at this point I might as well just get a lobotomy. I'm sure my therapist would like that.

There's still time to make this right. I don't have to end my life to end my suffering right?

I can prove them wrong. I will prove them wrong. It's just a chemical imbalance. I just need to fix it.

I rummage through the medicine cabinet above my bathroom sink, overlooking the blood crusting around the drain. There has to be something in here that can make my head stop pounding or my thoughts quiet down if not for just a little while. Maybe everything all at once? Yeah that should do!

Laid out in front of me on the cold tiled floor of my bathroom are various pill bottles. The amount of pills actually in them is varied, they like to switch my meds every other week it seems. I try to be hasty with this, pouring out a small handful of gel capsules into my hand. Each one smooth, glossy, and slightly cool to the touch.

You know, I've been here before, and typically there's some survival instinct in me, paralyzing my hands before I can do any damage. But all I can feel is anguish. And anger. And there's no more room for self preservation in me.

I take my first dose before I can come down from my emotion fueled adrenaline rush. Quickly now don't let the self preservation come back. I take my next dose of a new pill type, a tablet. It was a bad idea doing this dry but oh well!

Before I know it I'm slumped against my bathroom door, unable to continue my self medication on account of the mounds of pills I dry swallowed having begun triggering my gag reflex. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious about this, but it had to be done. My therapist is always urging me to take steps in the right direction!

(Though admittedly he never mentioned which direction is the right one.)

I make it back to my bed, dragging my feet and leaning on the wall for support the whole way. It's not even five minutes in when I start to feel the effects. I probably should've eaten before taking my pills like the instructions say.

This is different though, I feel my connection to reality slip right through my jittery fingers. Like the shadows in my room are divulging their presence. Like they are reaching out their hands, ready to take hold of me, pull me in and make me one with unreality. An emptiness overcomes me, something I've truly never felt before. And it's the strangest thing, because simultaneously I've never felt more alive in my life.

Everything is really funny, I've never noticed how funny everything is up until now. Every little unorganized thought that pops up in my foggy, spacing-out head manages to get a strained laugh out of me.

Visual snow floods my peripheral, the colors of the world begin to become one with the static in my eyes.

Ah, I remembered what I was going to do in here. I need to call Mr. Plant. I need him to know that I'm going to get better, and how much I love him of course. Oh he'll never understand just how much I love him! I love him to death, haha! Literally.

I dial in the number. Moving has proven difficult, like trying to control a vehicle while tired and out of it, or in my case trying to control a vehicle through the most debilitating brain fog I've ever experienced. The disconnection from body and thought is almost calming.

The ringing of the phone is such a funny thing as well. I could lose myself in the methodical rhythm and loose vibrations running up my hands- oh look here he's answered!

"M‐r… plant! I ha-ve.. s o me thi.. ng to tell you."

I am fighting to get the words out. The weak sounds I manage to get out of my raspy throat come out in uneven tones with jarring stutters. Why is it so hard to speak?

"I took.. a lot o-f... my me-ds. Ha-ha!" He hangs up immediately.

Is he not happy for me? It wasn't long before I heard sirens closing in. Did he call the cops on me? That's no fair, no fair at all.

I've never been rolled into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher before but there's a first time for everything I suppose. It's too bad I'm too out of it to really experience it.

In the ambulance is when the first wave of nausea hits. I could barely even feel the EMT insert the IV or hear when they asked me questions.

———

The heart palpitations do their diligence distracting from the perforations left in my arm from the injections of various medications and the IV drip.

My respiration is just as irregular as my heart's chemical damaged rhythm. I feel like I'm drowning in this heavy air and it feels like the knots in my stomach have spread to my heart. This pain is so unbearable that I feel the need to crave it out of myself with a blade.

The world is doubling- no tripling, blurring, and mushing together all at once. I can feel the hum of the fluorescent hospital light buzz through my head. The scent of rubbing alcohol and sterilized equipment is evident throughout the cold medical facility.

By my own hands I've made my body a place unsuitable for living. I've "almost drugged myself to an early grave" as the hospital staff keep reminding me.

Speaking of body, I can no longer tell where I end and the wires of the EKG machine begin. Neuropathy has set in and nerve sensation has dulled for the most part, except in my stomach and heart where it hurts the most of course. But me and the machines they have me hooked up to might as well be one as long as they are taking the place of my dysfunctional body systems.

When they run the EKG scan, which they do about every half hour, they ask me to stay as still as I can, but it's hard to control the shaking when I don't know where it comes from in the first place. I'm by no means cold, or if I am I really can't feel it.

Have I mentioned the shaking? The tremors? I need to grow accustomed to the flavor of raw stomach acid soon, because that's all I've been throwing up anymore. It's all that's left.

The nausea begins to build all over again, like my stomach is writhing and contorting in my torso. I can feel the knots being tied. Over the next few minutes it builds and builds, I'd do anything to stop the encroaching bile now. The nausea completely overwhelms my senses right before another round of the most violent retching I've ever experienced. Accompanied by the most awful squelching and splattering sounds as it hits the rest of vomit already resting at the bottom of the bag.

I feel like I'm nearing being turned inside out everytime it happens. And I've filled yet another vomit bag. This isn't going to stop for days as the doctor told me. I doubt I'll get the luxury of unconsciousness.

The activated charcoal they gave me to drink is like this black sludge, "slow and steady now, don't drink so fast you throw it all up but not so slow that you succumb to the consequences of your own actions." Well maybe that's not what they really said but it's how it felt. I can tell the staff are judging me, I just know it! They think I deserve this.

At least the charcoal is cherry flavored.

My many eyes dart around the clean and pristine hospital room erratically, glancing off in every direction. I don't want anyone to look at me anymore. I can't stand the buzz of the lights and I can barely bring myself to move enough to blink. Or even move enough to breathe. I am much too dizzy and light-headed to even consider standing up. I'm so dizzy I could swear I'm phasing in and out of my body. The only thing keeping my consciousness bound to this body is the unending pain ancoring me in the reality of my situation.

It's growing increasingly unbearable.

Above all else I am losing my mind trying to figure out where I went wrong tonight. These chemicals were supposed to fix all these feelings. The pills were supposed to fix me. My psychiatrists and therapists all told me that I'm sick, disordered, and all I needed was to buy a few more medicines.

It must be my fault, it must be if hundreds of milligrams of mood stabilizers can't just make it better.

Tell me, anyone tell me, why I'm so useless that I can't even help myself?

Why am I so worthless that my medicine won't work on me?

I am almost entirely suspended in unreality. The prozac, olanzapine, mirtazapine, and everything other useless drug they gave me were meant to cure me. I've tried everything!

I've done the very most I can to try and make the bad thoughts quiet down. And are the thoughts that tell me "I'd be better dead", my own thoughts, or a symptom of one of my diagnoses?

Is the reason I'm like this the same reason I don't deserve love, or do I not deserve love because I'm like this? I want to get better. I swear I really do.

So why does no one believe me?

"Sir, you have a visitor." The nurse informs me in a harsh yet hush tone.

The words barely make it through my chemical head. I'm practically catatonic in this hospital bed. But when I do process them I pray to every divine that it is who I think it is.

Red petals on the top and bottom, two yellow petals, one pink and one blue. I was right!

I can't believe he came all the way down to this void to come see me. I really thought he'd stay home. I don't think anyone or anything could possibly understand the pure desperation I feel coursing through my veins. Right alongside the saline they're using to flush my IV of course.

My boyfriend entered my hospital room, #34 I believe, I saw when they rolled me in on the stretcher. Tears well up in my dried eyes, I couldn't feel enough of anything to cry while drugged out of my head but seeing him, well, I need him more than I have ever needed anyone before.

The look on his face when he saw me is one I didn't know he was capable of, pure horror even. I must look horrible stained with my own bile in these itchy hospital scrubs. He is quick to clasp my hand in his and rub along my knuckles and the back of my palm. Through the blurred vision and tears I can't even make him out anymore but I don't need to, I just need his touch. I need it so badly.

I have no depth perception at the moment, or hand eye coordination, and again everything is quite blurry so it was mostly unintentional when I pulled him in by the sweater. He leans into me and wraps his arms under my upper back, holding me against his chest.

He's warm against me, holding me gently in a hospital bed. I can't feel much at all other than the pain, his warmth was the only other sensation I could pin down in my head. It was such a harsh contrast from how I normally see him acting.

With him so close I can't tell where he ends and I begin this time. Even in one of my most painful moments, I feel a familiar comfort in my palpitating heart. He's the only thing keeping me from going entirely mad. He has no idea what I'd give to melt into him right here right now, become an amalgamated abomination of our half hazardly bonded flesh and bone. I'm afraid I'd ruin him and all his perfection with me and all my misshapen and grotesqueness.

I am especially disgusting as of now, making him worry about me like this. Can I not be horrible for just one second? Selfish, that's it. I must be selfish. I take another go at speaking a moment after we pull away. All I can muster is an apology that comes out more like a pathetic stammer through my tears.

The way his cold gaze met mine shook me. I've never seen real tears stream down his face. He looks so... distraught. Its like he's looking right through me and simultaneously looking directly at me. And on top of everything I've never seen him sign so frantically. He rarely signs at all.

"Please don't be sorry."

…

"Don't strain your voice."

"Just stay right there, okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'll get you anything, I'd do anything for you."

I knew he cared about me, but I guess I never realized just how much. Or maybe I just forgot. How horrible am I?

Is it possible I'm actually worth something to him? Worth enough for him to call me an ambulance, worth enough for him to comfort me in the hospital bed, worth enough for him to cry over me?

Was I really worth staying with all this time?

My thoughts are interrupted by another round of retching, it seems those knots in my stomach weren't just anxiety. Mr. Plant holds my hand through it. I'm gonna be here a while, I know that. But he's here with me, and from the looks of it he isn't leaving my side anytime soon.

I'll make it out alive, not for myself, just for him. And for the possibility that maybe he needs me just as much as I need him. I wish my mind wasn't so scrambled, so I could find the words to express just how much I love him.

I love you Mr. Plant.

[kittzuxp]

Twomp oneshot i wrote cuz i was feeling miserable

on Ao3

CW: denial😔, cheating, self-destuctive thoughts and suicide

Mr plant was watching the telly, well not really, he was fidgeting with his hands while he heard the faint laugh tracks playing in the background. He was almost drifting off to sleep when the front door slammed, which shook him wide awake. He titled his head to look, it was his boyfriend, Argos! He looked like he was in a hurry, sweaty and taking big shaky breaths. His eyes filled with anger.

*[what happened?] Mr plant felt a little taken aback, Argos had never acted like this.

“You tell me!” He yelled, throwing photos on his lap. Mr plant fumbled with the photos trying to take a good look at them, and was slightly disgusted by the sight.

It was a depiction of him, holding someone else’s hands and looking at them with the same passion and warmth he looked at his beloved. The person’s face was obscured but some leaves of a tree in the foreground. The setting seemed to be at midnight, a single street lamp illuminating him and the other silhouette. The photo seemed to have been taken at a higher perspective, like a window from the second floor of a house.

The other photos were about the same, but the positions were slightly different. mr plant started feeling uneasy, he had never done this with anyone, nor does he remember this happening.

Mr plant felt uneasy, he knew where this was going, he had seen enough romance shows to know what usually happens.

*[Where did you find the photo?]

“It doesn’t matter! That’s you in the pictures, right?”

*[No! I would never cheat on you.]

“Don’t lie to me! It’s definitely you!” Argos sounded tired, but also hurt. So so so hurt.

*[Where did you find this?! Who gave this to you?] He stood up, towering over Argos by a few inches, and grabbed his forearm. Argos winced and looked at Mr plant in the eyes.

“Why does that matter! It’s none of your business!” He insisted and shook his arm, making Mr plant let go of his powerful grip.

*[It IS my business if I’m the one being photographed!] Mr plant didn’t understand why Argos refused to tell him.

“I- uhm.. UGHH!! When were you planning on telling me this?!” His eyes started tearing up from frustration. Mr plant hurt to see him like this, he reached out his lanky hand to Argos’ cheek to wipe the tears. Argos’ eyes wandered on Mr plant’s face after looking away and slapping Mr plant’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” He muttered. Mr plant was hurt by this, but obeyed.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Argos spoke up. Mr plant didn’t have time to think, his mind didn’t have enough time to race.

“We, should break up… this relationship. If you’re going to be dishonest.” He said again, with a firm and slightly louder voice.

“…I think..” he sighed and looked at him, “Look, I think this won’t work.”

Mr plant titled his head. Surely he misheard Argos. He hummed questioningly and brought his ear closer to Argos’ mouth.

*[hmm?] Mr plant sounded again, putting his ear closer to Argos. Surely he wasn’t hearing this.

“Mr plant. I’m Breaking up with you.” He really hadn’t misheard it. His face was turned from Argos’ so neither of them could see each other’s faces. Mr plant’s grin widened, his tears flowing hot down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them, leaving an ugly smudge on his face. He turned his face, a crying Argos was there, trying to look as if his own words weren’t affecting him and holding back.

*[You’d really rather believe some photographs than me..?] Argos was quiet, his two big eyes avoiding Mr plant, his other, smaller ones were looking right at him.

———

As soon as he had come, he had left. and Mr plant was alone.

He was too alone, so alone. He sat on his couch and waited. He waited for Argos to come back from work, like he usually did.

The hours passed, Argos didn’t come. But he waited like he always did. He never moved an inch. Soon, 2 days had passed when Mr Plant realised he wasn’t going to come back, come back home. Not HIS home anyways.

What even was he without Argos? Argos was always a very distinguishable person. But all Mr plant was was a cold monster who tried to feel human emotions and failed. He didn’t have a distinct personality nor a unique trait that made him his own person.

He was just a mutated flower from a foreign void. This wasn’t meant to happen to him. Everything that had happen. He was mad at himself, he was mad at Argos but also wasn’t.

Not even once did he think to comfort himself through this. He only blamed himself, it wasn’t Argos’ fault, he only believed at what he saw.

There were too many thoughts racing in his mind, too many for him. He thought his head might explode with how much thoughts he was having. Too many, So so many...

Your fault

your fault

your fault

His hands gripped tighter against his throat. His breaths were beginning to cut short.

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOURFAULT

YOUR-

He gripped tighter.

His vision began to grow faint and his thoughts started to drown out. His Head started to hurt in a good way, a comfortable way that didn’t hurt at all.

He gripped as tight as possible.

He was not longer breathing, gasping for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs. The only thing in his mind were the gasps and yelps. He tried to shut them up too.

After a bit his feet gave up, he fell down and closed his eyes.

“Goodbye Argos, I love you..” He knew nobody would hear that, and took his final rest.

[statictelevisionart]

@worm-brainzz

The vent

Mr.plant had always known that Argos stalked him, even before they were dating but he never really minded. it was worth it to make Argos happy even if it made himself uncomfortable. But one day he was having a bad day, his television broke and he was just sick and tired of everything. He walked into his room and instantly felt eyes staring at him… but it wasn’t just two. There was only one person it could be…

Argos

Mr.plant could feel their gaze burning into him as he stood and looked for where it was coming from, until he looked at the vent. He stood there for about 10 seconds before speaking “Argos, I can feel your eyes on me, come out of the vent.” Argos then muttered “Awhh shittt” as he crawled out of the vent. Mr.plant looked quite pissed but he couldn’t stay mad at Argos for long. “Why were you in the vent?” Mr.plant asked “Oh uhm…” Mr.plant sighed as Argos stuttered and tried to explain himself, even is it was a bit irritating his awkwardness was part of why Mr.Plant loved him. After a while of Argos trying to explain himself Mr.plant said something “Argos…Argos just stop it’s fine you’re just digging yourself deeper” Mr.plant didn’t even care anymore he just wanted Argos to stop worrying and just calm down. Argos stayed silent and just stared at Mr.Plant, admiring him. Soon Argos left and Mr.plant went back to his daily schedule, both of them still thinking about Argos in the vent.

[verybadatwriting]

Argos the Crossing Guard

Summary: Argos likes trying different jobs, but one he really wants isn't available.

Warnings: Implied murder

Notes: I was drawing and oops made a story, too. I might write down some notes, just pointing out the little details of the drawing.

Perma tag: @arctrooper69

No reader

Word count: 291

“It just looks so fun,” Argos lamented, as he and Mr. Plant walked through the small town. He continued, “Imagine – I could get complete control over a whole corner of the street! All the kids would wave to me, I’d get to see everyone going about their lives, getting groceries, going to their jobs, and… and it would be so much fun!” 

Mr. Plant, as always, stayed silent. 

“I know…” Argos said. “They don’t need any more. It’s just…” He glanced back at the crossing guard, who was smiling and waving to someone on a bike.

“Never mind.” 

Mr. Plant didn’t sleep much that night. There was too much to do. The next morning, when Argos came over to watch T.V. with him, Mr. Plant encouraged him to call the Department of Transportation and see, one last time, if they needed any crossing guards. 

“Okay,” Argos agreed. “After we watch our show.” 

Mr. Plant’s phone rang half an hour after Argos had left.

“I got it!” He yelled. “I got the job! They didn’t even need me to do an interview! I start tomorrow, at the corner we passed on our walk the other day.”

As Argos kept talking, Mr. Plant just smiled and turned his eyes back to the T.V. It was showing a story about a missing person. 

“... Last seen on their way home from work,” Said the news anchor, “Still wearing their uniform consisting of a bright yellow vest with reflective stripes and dark pants. If you know anything, please come forward.”

It was such a shame that they had to disappear. They took so long to dismantle and hide. Mr. Plant had not gotten any sleep. 

But Argos was happy. So it was worth it.

[p4per-lover]

Attempts to draw Argos and Mr plant..

[an-theduckin]

Me when eepy 🤪🤪(im gonna cry this is so embarrassing)

[moth-monarch]

Than how about fluff????

alright, anon. thank you for this ask!

also this is my first time posting my writing soo... yeah. hope you enjoy!

Argos banged on the door of mr. plant's void, too excited to care about how hard he was knocking. mr. Plant made no effort to hurry as he walked to the door, wordlessly opening it. mr. Plant had not been expecting to see argos practically vibrating while clutching two paper somethings... mr. plant pointed to the paper things in argos' hand.

"yes!" argos practically screamed, shoving the papers in mr. plant's face

'what are they?' mr. plant signed.

"they're concert tickets!" argos shrieked.

'to where?' mr. plant squinted, trying to convey his confusion.

"Red Night!"

mr. plant lit up, argos had rembered mr. plant telling him Red Night is his favorite band and now argos had tickets to one of their concerts!

'thank you!' mr. plant could barely contain his excitement, although one would never know unless they saw his hands shaking.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆time skip☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

despite mr. plant knowing how popular Red Night is, he didn't expect it to be this loud or have this many flashing lights or for people to shove and push him and argos around so much. argos quickly grabbed his hand to not lose him in the crowd, dragging him away from the center of the chaos. mr. plant felt his breathing quicken and argos felt his heart rate get faster and his arm become more and more sweaty. once the two were safely away from the crowd argos turned back to his boyfriend. mr. plant could hardly hear the band over the noise of the crowd, hearing argos would be important unless argos screamed his lungs out. seeing his boyfriends distress, argos brought mr. plant out of the venue in an attempt to help mr. plant calm down.

he tried to do the typical "name five things you can see. four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, one thing you can taste." but the music was still too loud for mr. plant to hear argos so argos did the only thing he could think of, he brought mr. plant back to the car and to his void. on the way back to their shared void, argos tried his best to calm mr. plant down. when they finally reached the room where mr. plant is most comfortable, strangely, the basement. mr. plant likes the basement because it is so dark no one can see anything, so argos grabs the flashlight the lies on the kitchen table on the way down. eventually, after many hugs and words of comfort, argos and mr. plant fell asleep on the basement floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed this! also I did get a bit lazy at the end but I still think it turned out rather good!

[ang31ey3s-d3mons3edz]

Here's the fanfic I've been working on! I know it's shortttt but that's all I could come up with for noww

[worm-brainzz]

resisting the urge to call chapter one of the new fic "the neighbor's kid" cuz thats so argoscore and him and mr plant lived on the same street when they were kids soo

yea

[devilish-parrot]

for a first time, i think its pretty good if i do say so myself

i should become a profesional author

(excuse the music thing, i like keeping track of what music i listen while doing other things)

[lemon-isweird]

TWOMP SIDE OF TUMBLR I NEED YOUR ATTENTION

Hi! I'm Lemon, and I'm a wattpad fanfic writer (worst thing ever I know)

I recently published a twomp fanfic of a AU I have, so... If any of you would like to read it, its on Wattpad as "blood clinic"

I can maybe give a short summary of the AU if I see it gets some mild attention, but, by now I'll just reveal a bit more each chapter

I only have one chapter out by now, but, I liked how it turned out, so, I hope you'll like it too :>

That's all people, have a great day🫡🫡

[icechippies]

Unnamed Twomp fic

Ok so first TWOMP fic, I'm posting it here first because it needs a name for Ao3 and I dont have a good name yet. Each chapter will be a reblog of this one by me so keep an eye out, I am going to post the first two tonight.

Tags that it would probably have on Ao3: Angst and hurt/comfort, Argos/Mr Plant, Medical stuff, chainsaw Argos, bad medical decisions -Or something like that at least, idk Ao3 tags at the top of my head.

I wrote a LOT of notes to share with this. I'll uh, I'll just let them do the talking, chapters will be reblogged from this post as I decide I want to. When I post to Ao3 Kudos are appreciated but comments are what really help.

Notes: 

I am sick and haven’t been able to sleep for the past two nights except for a nyquill induced nap yesterday. I want to write but I don’t want to deal with 8+ characters in a scene, solution? Angsty hurt/comfort of everyone’s favorite murder boyfriends. This is my first TWOMP fic so it’s going to be a little iffy on the characterization I think, I’m testing the waters. If I over explain stuff in the notes it’s because I’m practically delirious. I will continue writing this until such time as I am no longer sick, which may be a while

I think Mr. Plant normally has some vines, but they are vestigial (Like how whales still have leg bones or humans have tailbones) and don’t really serve much of a purpose and mostly come from his neck where he turns from plant to humanoid.

A witches’ broom is a growth on a plant that can be caused by fungal, bacterial, or viral infections but can also be the result of random genetic mutation (Fasciation). It causes patches of extremely dense, unregulated growth. Viral witches' brooms often have no cure, the only thing that can really be done is remove the plant to prevent it from spreading, rose rosette virus being one of them. If left untreated, the dense growth of the plant will catch water and bacteria and start to rot, slowly killing the plant. 

Anyway, pretty horrific for a plant. This story basically expands upon that real life disease but reimagining it in a way that could affect a plant-person thing.

No, Argos was absolutely not invited. He made a copy of Mr. Plant’s key because picking the lock got too tiresome after the twenty-somethingth time.

You see, I never watched Happy Tree Friends, and I only saw one episode of DHMIS. I was watching a secret third horrific thing in middle school, Cyriak videos. And oooweee, it shows sometimes.

I think Argos went to the library a lot before getting obsessed with Mr.Plant not in the nerdy computer geek way but with the same vibes as a kid who goes to the library during lunch to distract them from the fact that they don’t have any friends and as such has basically read every book there.

The Argos chainsaw photoshoot lives in my head and the bastard doesn’t even pay rent.

This was started before the void 1 stuff came out and I was so right, wasn’t I? I predicted void 1 mutated things, I predicted Ghost adding Respite to the setlist, just call me the fanfiction prophet.

(other note: I started this like 6 months ago, I have had time to edit since I was sick lol)

[kittzuxp]

Would anyone be interested.

edit: IT'S HERE!!

AO3

Wattpad

[twomp-tournaments]

ROUND 2

[yamirexic]

pov: argos has a headache

one word: whiny

actually is in huge pain- needs a lot of painkillers or sleep (if he's able to)

you try to help him out: a lot of coffee, tucking him into bed and telling mr plant to make the telly quieter

put something cold on his head, it will help (his eyes might freeze though)

sometimes he wants to cuddle, sometimes he's like a fiery cat wanting to scratch you with it's paws- accept it. headaches fucking suck so he will of course make your life harder but trust me, he will return the favor if you're in pain or just out of nowhere. it's a way of saying "thank you" so please cuddle this whiny little thing :)

I fucked up inserting a title so now it looks quite shitty :,)

[blotomical]

I always feel the loneliest when I'm with you.

(POMR 1) AO3

Argos wants to secretly take some more photos of Mr. Plant. Word count: 1.9k Might make more of this if people enjoy it :)