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Summary
Spamton’s roots were growing out. It took a while for Tenna to notice, or maybe it just took a while to happen. His body was so different now, hard plastic where there had once been soft feathers, gaping, empty sockets that had once held sharp eyes. Static and unchanging. Wounds that would have once healed with time now had to be carefully repaired and his blood was no longer a familiar, humanizing red. He was a doll in more than just appearance. And, like a doll, his hair didn’t grow. Or at least, it hadn't.
OR: Tenna notices that Spamton's stopped dying his hair, despite how vital he knows it was to him. He tries to help without completely ruining whatever fragile truce they've managed to construct.
Series
- Part 5 of Cube's Trans Spamton Musings
Bookmarked by MeiExists
01 Nov 2025