smiling critters · poppy playtime · alternate universe · trauma recovery · grief · healing · emotional vulnerability · comfort · found family · dark
The afternoon was quiet, the only sound the soft crush of raspberries between my teeth. Then came the shouting—sharp, angry screams tearing through the peace. I ran toward the commotion and found them: Dogday and Bobby Bearhug, locked in a heated struggle, their faces flushed a deep, angry purple. Hoppy Hopscotch and Piggy were trying to wedge themselves between them, while Kickin Chicken nursed a bruised cheek. The air itself grew heavy with their conflict, and I watched in horror as the glowing medallions on their chests—vessels of their very souls—began to crack under the strain. A vile, crimson smoke seeped from the fractures, curling through the air straight toward me. It hit my lungs like fire, and I stumbled back, coughing violently, the sickening taste of their negativity ch…