Harmony ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

-Introduction post-

Haiiiooo! I’m Harmony!

Officially 18 now!!

I don’t really have a DNI, just don’t be rude to me please..

🌸Jirai blogs can interact🌸

-Things I like-

The ocean

Listening to music

Drawing

Making muffins -w-

-Things I dislike-

Just rude people in general?

-Anon list-

-🌟 Anon

-🤡 Anon

-🐾🪱 Anon

-Anon Trio

-🩷🔑 Anon

-🦆 Anon

-🪲🦷 Anon

-Music I love-

-Fandoms-

Batim

Five nights at Freddy’s

Minesweeper

House of puso

Blood debt

Finding Frankie

-Events-

BC U GIFTED ME LOAF I PRESENT 2 U UPPY,, TAKE GUD CARE OF HIM,, HEZ SENSITIVE AND WILL EAT EVERYTHING

Awwww

UR SO GOATED VRO

what’d you expect it to sound like?

"No no no [beetle] it's fun apple time! Just fun apple time!! fapple time if you will!!!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP [SATURN]"

— beetle🪲🦷

thank you!!

go my scarab (my bad writing)

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Pest had grown more used to Rose, and he'd supposed she'd grown used to him too. They'd spoken a lot more. Rose had told him about her mother and father. About her friends from when she was younger. About the farm she'd moved too, and, of course, why she was here—

"That sounds awful," Pest hissed, frowning as he listened to Rose's words. She sighed, and nodded "Yeah. But it's not like I could've done anything about to stop it." He could hear the hurt in her words, the tears being held back, and how he just wished that there were no walls between them; that he could pull her into his arms and try to keep her safe. It was, admittedly, a strange feeling— one he'd only ever felt around Leaf— and he couldn't quite figure out what to call it.

—and he'd told her about himself. About Crest Falls. About the exterminations. About Leaf. And although he didn't have nearly as much to share as she did, it was still quite nice to talk to someone.

But it was quiet now.

He'd noticed that Rose had been talking less and less, that she'd been sounding sicker and sicker. Today she was completely silent. At first, he figured she was still asleep, until he heard a raspy gasp through the wall.

His head jerked up, and he leaned further into the wall, swallowing back a tremor of panic before he forced himself to speak, ".....Rose?"

Rose curled in further on herself, breath coming in short, frantic gasps— any time she'd tried to take a deep breath, it sent her into a fit of violent, painful coughing.

Her throat was raw, and she was sure she couldn't speak, but Pest's voice through the wall— goddammit— she wouldn't just leave him waiting. So, she answered with the first thing that came to mind, a hoarse whisper. "I— I-I'm scared."

He spoke again, but she couldn't hear what he'd said; her brain felt like it was full of worms.

Where her skin had once ached all over, the pain had now clumped together into crude lines and splotches along her skin— up her back and across her shoulders, along her sides and belly. There were even sore spots on her gums, in her scalp.

Pest said something more, but Rose couldn't tell what it was over how much she was focused on disappearing into herself. She imagined that, maybe, if she closed her eyes tight enough, she would be back at the farm, with her parents.

The thought calmed her down just a bit, just enough to try and get a deep breath again. She choked on it halfway through, though, decending into another fit of coughs.

This time she couldn't stop.

Every cough felt like it was hammering away at the inside of her chest, and eventually, nausea twisted in her stomach. As she raised a hand to cover her mouth, something hot spattered across it, as though she were coughing up blood, and her skin burned hot as she dry heaved into her palm.

Her skull throbbed, like something was trying to claw it's way out, and her ribs felt like they would snap if she coughed or gagged any harder. And after one particularly sharp motion—

Something did snap.

Her back was suddenly ripped open by something within, ribs popping and crackling loudly, flesh and bones rearranging themselves to make way for— for something.

The skin along her sides split, and out crept tendrils of cartilage and exoskeleton, glimmering a delicate pink color beneath the grime and gore. They wrapped around and dug into her skin, sharp points clawing at the soft fat of her stomach.

She gasped violently, lungs refusing to work as she clawed at the floor for something, anything to ground her. Bile slipped past her clenched teeth with every cough, and blood dripped from her gums and from her temples, running down her face and dripping off her chin.

She could just vaugely hear Pest's panicked, broken English off to one side of her, but filling in all the gaps around her was a different voice, smooth and sweet enough to make her feel like her teeth would fall out. It eventually drowned out Pest's voice, pressing in on all sides like water.

"Oh, dear."

"Is it that bad?"

"Does it really, really hurt?"

Rose let out a shaky, desperate, growl, which came out more like a scream in the quiet of her cell. She tried forcing herself to her feet, but couldn't find her footing in the slick puddle of her blood, and fell again into a weak, gory heap.

She kept her face pressed to the floor for a few moments, breathing in the heavy, iron-rich smell. She finally lifted her head up, thick strings of blood connecting her cheek to the metal, as she turned to look at the thing in front of her.

Against the front wall of the cell was an almost blinding red light. At first, it was a small blob— formless, but sharp edged, like it was shining through a pinhole— but slowly, it began to take a shape.

The redness faded, the brightness dimmed, and the light seemed to bulge outwards, into a physical shape— softer around the edges now, like a poorly remembered dream, but..... there. It approached Rose slowly, footsteps silent against the floor, and it leaned down slightly.

Rose's eyes widened, tears pricking at the corners, although she wasn't sure if it was from pain or sheer, utter relief. She recognized the softness of those hands, the faint greying of her lavender hair, and her voice cracked as she forced herself to speak. ".....mom?"

She tried to focus on her face, but her vision blurred and shuddered like old film, hazy. Oh god, had she forgotten?

Her mom let out a quiet chuckle, but it wasn't her voice— no, it was that same, saccharine tone from before, wearing a skin of comfort. It knelt down next to Rose, a hand brushing through the bloodied mess of her hair, and she winced when it snagged on a tangle.

The creature took her head in it's palms, and pulled her head up into it's lap, it's skin practically scalding hot, and she let out a panicked yelp, flailing as she tried to push herself away.

But the creature just shushed her, stroking her face and speaking again in that voice. "Eaaaaasy dear. You're sick. Wouldn't want you making it any worse now, would we? Hmhmmhmm....."

Rose's voice was squeaky, throat raw from coughing up bile, and she rambled as her head grew fuzzy. "Let— let go— please, pleasepleasepl...." Finally, she croaked out a coherent sentence, turning her gaze upwards towards its face— no longer entirely faceless, but with one large, diamon-shaped hole where an eye should go. "Wh.. what did you do....?"

The creature laughed again, it's form rippling unnaturally. "I didn't do anything, my darling blossom. This was all your own fault."

Rose's vision flickered— going dark for a few seconds, before restoring. Except this time she was looking down at herself. At the shimmery, paper-thin wings coming from the wound in her back, plastered to her skin by her own blood. At the bright pink barbs that jutted out from her forearms like little needles. At the second, sharper pair of arms now scraping against the floor.

She weakly covered her eyes with her hands, trying to turn away, but it was no use. "Stop.."

She blinked, and everything returned to normal, and she let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. The creature patted her cheek comfortingly, but it's voice was mocking, contemptuous.

"See? Disgusting. No wonder they put you in here."

The creature continued. "I could end your misery right now. Wouldn't that be nice? So your dear mother wouldn't have to see you like this?" It ran a hand over her back, and for just a second, she felt claws prodding at the edge of her injury. She winced, letting out a sob as she shook her head— her mom. She had to think about her mom. "No! No, no..."

The creature let out a low hum, tilting her head up towards it. It had given up its form, and she now had to stare up into it's eye, the same blinding, burning red that she'd seen beforehand. "Of course not, of course," it cooed, "I wouldn't do that, dear."

It's grip on her face tightened slightly, claws beginning to dig into her temples, and she winced again. Everything was starting to get dark, the room growing fuzzier, and she reached up to pry the creature's hands away.

But it just laughed, and pulled her closer. "Oh, no no no, there'll be none of that."

"You're mine now."

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—beetle 🪲🦷

Holy shit…

WOOOOOOOOOO!!!

—beetle 🪲🦷

Oooo I will when I get time!

HOLD GENTLY LIKE BURBER