“Oh my god.”
I looked up from staring at the floor during one of my patented Depressive Episode in confusion to see Slim sitting at my laptop, hands tented in front of his face as he glared at the screen.
“What?” I asked, even though I guess I’m kinda a god or something in this reality and already knew what he was thinking.
He sat back in the chair, pointing one finger at the screen. It was his middle finger, and I pretended that it was because it was the longest one and not because he was trying to be rude. Even though I knew he was trying very, very hard to be an asshole. Same, dude.
“I do deserve better. I am better than- than this.” He gestured to himself and the aura of shitpost around him. I hummed in thought.
“Alright. If that’s what you want.”
He nodded firmly. Yes, it was very much what he wanted. With a shrug, I turned back to staring at my wall and the small holes from pins I had used to hang posters up once. Mostly of Hunger Games memorabilia. Gale is better than Peeta. I honestly don’t even remember how to spell Peepa’s name.
Anyways.
The aura around him started to shift, lifting up into the air and swirling like a cloud, only for Slim to choke and immediately grab it, yanking it back down onto himself. I raised a brow. “What? Does it sustain you or something?”
He gasped for breath. “No, I just-” he looked up at me. Tears were glimmering in the corners of his sockets. “What the hell was that entitlement? Why the hell was I a horny, whimpering dog?!” I shrugged, but he kept going, not seeming to seek a response. “Why is everyone seemingly okay with me being a cowardly piece of shit with no personality or character depth.”
I took a sip of the cherry cola I was apparently holding. “Porn.”
“Oh, okay!” He stood, brushing himself off and pulling a joint from one of his pockets. “I’m totally chill with that.”
I nodded. Yeah, me too. I took another sip of my soda. The characterization was honestly entirely up to the individual, despite my personal preferences.
The entitlement was entirely my own.
“You know I had to do it to ‘em,” I muttered into my drink. Slim sent me a confused look but didn’t ask for clarification, completely unaware of the shit storm that was gathering in the distance, readying to rain hellfire and agony down upon my favorite.
Characters never know what hits them when you both project onto them and fucking despise your personality at the same time.
I was going to break him.
Ollie, you’re awesome, and I love you and your shitposts.
And fuck if I’m not a little afraid for Slim right now. Poor boy.
I lost it at the deadpan “Porn.” This is brilliant, Ollie (and now I’m afraid for this innocent skeleton’s life).
Dragon Blog 