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    Summary

    He doesn't possess the energy to lift his limbs, not even to twist himself away. He doesn't feel a floor or matter or anything, its just him existing in a void, a very fucking BORING void!!!

    Anything would be more interesting than this.

    Yet he still remains without a response and for a few moments he feels….ohhh boy what is it that he feels? what's the word!? Its such a feeling like being gutted like a fish! Oh oh, or maybe like peeling one's skin off. Or perhaps like that time he tore Arthur apart!

    That memory remains a favourite one of his, even if it also made the equivalent of whatever passes as a heart inside of him pump weirdly for a while. He thinks about the agonized yells as his blood simply splashed all over him and little dandelion over there screamed at him, at Arthur, telling him the very obvious thing of him being torn apart! Honestly that was just rubbing salt into the wound, as if dear Arty couldn't fucking tell what was happening to him.

    God John, you just don't tell someone they are being eviscerated-

    He throws a mad fit of giggles at the joke.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    206,658
    Chapters:
    10/13
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
    64
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