Lifesteal SMP oneshots

❤️‍🩹💔❤️ The Cuddles I didn't know I needed

CW: mentions of blood and wounds

Clown being an idiot and Branzy taking care of him lol

That's it-

Well plus a pre-cursor of the fight + clown having a panic attack :^

(Clown POV) (again like seriously, wtf I write his pov too much)

As I gave the final blow, the throbbing pain in my side increased to the motion. Jaron's body went limp and started to smoke out.

I nearly sobbed at the relief of no-longer fighting with 3 open and actively bleeding wounds, but I knew I had to act fast. Red and some others are on their way, and I won't be able to hold them off.

Quickly, I swiped the shard from the air, the heart that once belonged to Jaron. The rest of it disappeared as I absorbed the heart, my own going up to 17.

Not enough.

I took a step back, groaning at my side. I slid my scythe into it's holster on my back and unsheathed my sword from it's protective hoist on my hip, pointing it down in front of me. I jogged off as fast as I could, desperate for air and for a safe spot.

Home.

That's where I can go.

But Branzy's there.

I cant let him see me like this.

Not like the monster I am.

But he's the only one.

The only one who can calm it.

I argued with my own mind as my instincts took over, my combat-induced brain subconsciously leading me straight to the small cottage me and Branzy made in the dark oak forest not too far from here.

My eyes woozily darted around, always on the lookout for a nearby enemy, or worse; enemy convoy.

As I ventured further into the vaguely familiar forest, I felt my eyelids become heavy, my movements more sluggish, and the grip on my sword loosening.

Eventually I stumbled into a tree, the bark digging into my back as I slid down it, the tears held beneath my mask unable to stay within their holding realm.

I sobbed as my knees buckled in on me, and my sword was discarded to the side. My palm held my mask while my right arm clutched the deep and very-much painful slice right below the left side of my rib cage.

I couldn't stop myself as helpless whines and whimpers escaped my mouth, hiccups filling my lungs. My breathing labored as I gasped for air, the cut on my throat slowly oozing blood. I shoved my hood off with my free hand and struggled to unclasp the complex strap system I had in place, my mask falling onto my thighs.

My free hand clutched the fuzzy fur part of my top shirt, my legs drawing themselves in as I uncontrollably sobbed the night away.

My breathing was fast and uneven, little gasps of air filling the otherwise silent forest.

What were those breathing exercises again?

Right, box. Box box box box box. Okay let's- let's try this.

I took in a long, shaky breath, holding it before exhaling through my mouth. Despite my lungs stinging worse than being slapped, I continued the exercise.

I repeated this a few times, finally getting a hold of myself.

After maybe 10 minutes, the tears stopped falling, and my breathing was relatively normal, if not shaky and heavy.