Re: Flandre's Pet Human

[The Didact]

Chapter 1

 

Boooop...

Mister tapped his finger impatiently on the steering wheel. He looked ahead - nothing but open road. Behind him, open road. Not a car for miles. 

Boooop...

Where even was he right now? When was the last time he saw a traffic sign? Was this road even open?

Boooop...

Better question: why weren't these people answering the fucking phone? Yes it was late, but not that late. Pick up already!

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system-"

He threw his cellphone in the passenger seat. Last time he tried to follow directions from someone he knew. Should have learned from his mother. 

"Unbelievable."

Apparently the road ahead was under construction...or so he gathered from the orange and white striped blockade set up. There wasn't anywhere else to go besides a path that led down a slope and appeared to wrap around a ledge, or at least passed in front of it. Hard to tell from this angle. There weren't any workers out either, so he couldn't stop and ask directions. For all he knew he was the last man alive on earth.

Nowhere to go but forward, and he was too frustrated to stop. He swung the car over onto the dirt path to the sound of crunching gravel. It was a tight squeeze against the cliff wall and what he could only guess was a sheer drop.

"...aren't even any arrows? Caution signs? The fuck is this?"

He was beyond fed up by now, and every little thing only antagonized him more. He leaned over sharply and made a quick grab for his phone on the other seat - the whole movement couldn't have taken more than an entire second.

He flipped the phone open and put it to his ear. He looked at the road.

Brown, four legs, bright eyesSTOPSTOPSTOP

He slammed the brakes. He shouldn't have swung the steering wheel like he did - it was a knee-jerk reaction from all the other times he'd had to dodge sudden obstacles, be it children or animals or traffic signs, times when there was room to go, something he didn't think about before he did it. It didn't cost him then. Now it did. 

The rickety metal barrier didn't hold. The car kept going. The ground did not.

Pine trees flew by. Snapping branches. Screams for God. A hard bounce. Airbags.

He didn't remember what happened next.

---

It was cold. 

He awoke and could barely move. He couldn't see, couldn't feel his fingers, had to work just to breathe. Every joint was stiff and every muscle threatened to cramp at any given moment. He felt like crap. He was so cold.

To his right came a delicate sound of tinkling glass. He looked (oh god his neck, don't turn so fast) and felt his blood run cold: red irises, practically luminescent, surrounding centers that flared green or blue from certain angles. Reflective? Cat eyes? Cougar? Wildcat?

"Mister is alive?"

Oh thank god - the feminine voice was almost like music to his ears, but a really poor rendition of a good song. His head fell back as a breath heaved from his throat. He didn't even mind the back of his head striking solid rock (no, he minded, it hurt a lot). Of all the things it could have possibly been, it was a yukkuri. Just a yukkuri. He was fine.

...but where was he?

It was dark. He couldn't make out any details at all aside from those eyes to his right, but a slight change in the color of the background when he looked this way...was that outside? That had to be outside, that way. Yeah, he could even see stars, sort of. Was this a tunnel? A cave?

"Can you hear? Let Flan see."

The eyes bobbed slightly and came closer. He pulled up his arm apprehensively, leaning in the opposite direction. His back felt like it was studded with barbed wire instead of vertebrae, and his shoulders were no better. He could barely shuffle sideways from where he was sitting.

"Stop moving."

Something touched him - a hand. He practically jumped out of his skin from the simple touch - an ember blazed under his skin, sending arcs of pain rippling down his spine that took his breath away, leaving him to merely gasp, "Don't."

A second hand joined the first, grabbing him, touching him, tracing his outline. The eyes moved and shifted, changing the color of the reflective center. He hissed as the hands crossed over a spot on his forearm.

"Here? Does it hurt?"

He slapped the hand back and pressed his own down, though it felt no better no matter whose hand it was. 

"Don't move. Flan will fix."

"I really doubt that."

Did the eyes narrow? He wasn't paying attention. Something dry and scratchy touched his hand and he recoiled. "Stop moving or Flan will get angry."

"Get the fuck away from m-OW!"

"Are you just stupid? Do you listen?"

"Stop- FUCK! God, stop touching me, that hurts!"

He lashed out with his foot, but found only air, heel hitting the stone floor hard. The pain was not even remotely worth the effort. The hands receded; something made another delicate clattering noise and the eyes rose slightly.

"Fine, Flan hopes it hurts a lot. Punishment for uneasy pet."

Mister struggled to sit up more. One leg managed to push his torso up and shove itself below in a crouching position. Then it dawned on him. "...what the fuck did you just call me?"

"Pet." The eyes tilted sideways in mock-inquiry. "Do you know what that is? Flandre doesn't feel like explaining now. Be easy and Flan will explain easy later."

It took a few seconds to gather his energy, but he had all the resolve he needed. He pushed himself up off the unforgiving rock floor, supported half his weight on the cave wall, then began to hobble in the direction he could feel fresh air trickling in from. Somewhere out there was a car and a hotel room just for him, waiting.

They didn't seem to like that very much."Where are you going?"

"Not here. Fuck this."

Something hard clamped to his arm. He rolled his shoulder but it wouldn't budge. 

"Get off me!"

"No, you stay. Flan says."

He pushed ahead with his full body weight, gritting his teeth through the pain. It still didn't budge. "Get off!"

"Flan said no!"

Frustration became desperation, and anger. He turned around - the eyes were perilously close, narrow and gleaming. He could make out of the shape of a rounded face, and the wrist of the hand holding him back. He lashed at it blindly with his other hand, expecting damage, screaming...the usual yukkuri things. "Fucking trash manjught-"

The blow to his stomach hit him blind. The wind left his lungs and his knees buckled - his hand fell off course and grasped at the arm that was holding him upright, preventing him from dropping to the floor. The skin was soft, but below was solid as iron and held his full weight fast. 

"Flan said NO!"

He saw the fist a moment before impact. Stars flashed before his eyes, and for the second time in one night he felt nothing, never, nowhere.

---

(Edit version of the original post. Didn't understand how Flandre types tend to refer to themselves. So I just replaced every instance of "Flandre" with "Flan." Literally the only change.

Reeeeally wish edits were possible in google groups.)

[The Didact]

Chapter 2

It was morning by the time he opened his eyes again.

He was in a cave. It wasn't a particularly large cave, going perhaps 7 or so meters in and just tall enough that one worry about bumping their head. There was a pile of debris in the farthest corner, which turned out to consist of dirty newspaper pieces, plastic bags, and branches covered in soft pine needles. There also seemed to be some bits of fur tucked away in places. Either bedding or a toilet, hard to tell.

Everything still hurt. It wasn't as bad as last night, but he was still very sore in some places - the bad, shoulders, and head, which had painful spots on the front and back. His clothes were all covered in dirt and was torn in random places, where small cuts made it through to the skin below. He could see several places where it had bled through into the clothing. The worst was his right forearm, which had a thin slice the length of one of his fingers and had crusted over with dried blood and half-formed scabs. Kind of gross to look at, actually. His chest also ached and sent a jab of pain through his abdomen whenever he breathed too deeply. He also had one of the worst headaches he'd ever remembered having, just as a fun bonus.

To top it all off, it was cold. Not only did his jacket have holes in it, it wasn't very thick to start with. This would have been fine if he had actually made it to that hotel he was supposed to be at right now. It was the middle of November, and it wasn't going to be getting any warmer.

He had to get out of here.

He felt his pockets. Wallet; no phone. Must be in the car. Where was the car? Where was he now?

It took some work, but he managed to stand up. The cave entrance was blocked by what appeared to be a large segment of chain link fence. He limped over and linked his fingers in the chain, giving it a rattle...whoa, it moved. A lot, actually. He tried to peer through it, looking to the sides, confirming that it wasn't connected to anything. Just a random chunk of chain fencing propped up against the entrance. What was the point of it? Just something to cover the entrace?

He froze - a tinkling noise, like glass on glass, came from outside. He remembered the eyes - the voice. That crazy-strong yukkuri.

After a moment of panic, he scrambled back to the general area he'd been sitting, sat back down, and slumped over. Perhaps he could fool it into thinking he was still unconscious, give him time to plan something...

The chain link fence rattled and gave a scraping noise once, then one more time as it was shoved back into place. Small shoes tapped on the stone as something walked, making no attempt to hide its presence, then stopped directly in front of him. A tinkling of glass could again be heard for a brief moment when the footsteps stopped.

Silence. He could feel it looming over him, but he didn't look up, didn't open his eyes. If he could just play dead like this, then maybe he-

Something struck his stomach hard. He jerked forward with an "oof," coughing and sputtering.

It was a bodied Flandre, as suspected, but it was only now that he could get a good look. It stood just under five feet tall, its chandelier-esque wings spread wide as it stared down at him with a hard expression, hands on its hips. Besides the slightly round, cartoon-like features in places, it was hard to differentiate this yukkuri from another human. It was what always creeped him out the most about them.

"Flan isn't stupid. Flan heard you moving. Mister isn't sneaky."

He mouthed a curse and resumed trying to catch his breath. The coughing stopped, but the air wasn't back yet. It'd come after some effort, but the pain in his chest made it needlessly difficult.

After a few seconds, the yukkuri took on a less combative stance. Its arms fell to its sides and it crouched in front of him.

"Flan wants to look at hurt-hurt now."

"You...what?"

"Just hold still."

Flandre picked up his arm and raised it slightly towards itself. He pulled it back, but was simply grabbed again, this time harder. The yukkuri's grip was as strong as iron and almost too tight to tolerate. It glared at him.

"Mister is very bad at easy directions."

"Go fuck yourseoWOW oh fuck stop, ow!"

Flandre loosened her grip, ending the pain it caused. She pulled his sleeve back and got a look at the gash, turning the limb this way and that ever so slightly.

"Don't touch it."

"Flan isn't touching it."

Well then it did touch it, but only on the edge, and only briefly, causing only a slight hiss of pain. It examined the fingertip it touched with, rubbed it and its thumb together, and was apparently satisfied with whatever it saw. It released his arm, which was pulled back quickly.

"Flan doesn't get why that was so difficult."

"Fuck you."

Flandre's hands curled into fists and its eyes narrowed. "Flan's sick of mister's vulgar mouth. Say something uneasy again and Flan will hurt-hurt. Understand easy?"

He didn't say anything, just glared.

"Lift your shirt."

He didn't move.

"Mister, Flan is getting angry."

"There's nothing there."

"Do it."

He did, lifting as little as he possibly could. Flandre shoved his hands away and yanked the fabric herself, getting a good look at his torso. There were bruises aplenty, but no big cuts or injuries to make note of.

The yukkuri also looked at his legs. There were cuts, but the jeans were tougher than the shirt and jacket and was in better shape than either, as were the limbs. He almost expected it to force him to take them off, but just pulling the legs up was apparently enough.

Flandre stood up and huffed. "Mister seems to have no trouble being uneasy, so Flan thinks mister is fine."

"So glad you think so." His tone was anything but appreciative.

Flandre stuck her hand out. In its hand was another yukkuri...or atleast, half of one. It appeared to be a Marisa at one time; both its eyes were glassed over and staring in different directions and its tongue was stretched out to its full length, hanging out the side of its mouth. Its body stopped halfway down its stomach.

"Eat."

He visibly recoiled from the corpse, unsettled by its expression. Did it actually die like that or was it arranged that way just to creep him out? "Uh...I'll pass."

"Flan said eat."

He shook his head, crawling sideways to get further from the dead yukkuri being shoved closer to him. "Dude, that's disgusting! Quit it!"

"When's the last time mister ate?"

"What do you care?"

"Flan doesn't now. Flan's telling you now: eat it!"

You know who else lost his patience? This guy - he jumped up, completely ignoring the protests of his joints and the pain of his chest, and yelled as loud as he could in the yukkuri's face, "No!"

What came next was...kind of predictable, really. In hindsight he should have expected it.

Flandre grabbed him by the collar, shoved him back against the cave wall, then proceeded to cram the dead yukkuri in his face and into his mouth. He gagged and tried to fight it off, but Flandre was so much stronger than him. He didn't understand how something like a yukkuri could outclass a human so soundly, or if it was even possible, but apparently it was, because Flandre did. He was force-fed dry dough skin and globs of black bean paste - most ended up falling to the floor or smearing on his face and clothes, but this did not seem to phase Flandre at all. Protests to stop were muffled and ended in him choking even more.

When Flandre finally released him, most of his face was smeared in a generous amount black-brown paste. He coughed and choked, falling to the ground and nearly vommiting from a combination of obstructed windpipe and the pain lancing freely through his chest with every cough. At some point he spat out an eyeball.

"Flan is mad now!" it screeched, hands balled into fists. "Are you scum? Are you stupid? Mister is acting like a shitty little one any smart parent would squash! Stop being uneasy trash already!"

He didn't look up at her, choosing to remain on all fours and resume coughing. He rubbed a large glob of paste off his cheek and around his mouth and spat - it landed millimeters from the toe of the yukkuri's black slip-ons. 

One foot pulled back slightly. For a second he thought she was going to kick him in the face. He waited for it.

It didn't come. Flandre stomped towards the cave entrance, and he didn't look up at her. The fence rattled loudly, then put back in place with a crash.

"If mister tries to leave, Flan will find you. Don't try it."

A clattering of glassy prisms, quickly growing distant. Silence.

He remained on all fours for a while longer, then sat back. He pulled his knees to his chest and held himself, forehead on his knees, trying to think through the pain and indignity and biting cold. It didn't work well. 

His face was hot - tears crept up on him, burning his eyes. He bit it back for a while, but the more he thought, the worse he felt, and the more futile it all seemed.

A freak pastry monster had overpowered him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was supposed to be on vacation for the next two weeks, and even if they couldn't reach him, no one would look for him. By the time they suspected anything, any number of things could have befallen him. He could be dead. He could have starved. He could be eaten by none other than that freak of a Flandre.

He didn't know where he was, and couldn't fight. He was trapped. He, a grown human being, had been kidnapped by a yukkuri, and was utterly powerless to stop it.

He sat in the silence and could only find it in him to despair.

[The Didact]

Chapter 3

With nowhere else to go, he couldn't do anything but sit against the wall and try to sleep.

It was terrible. His jeans weren't the worst texture ever, but not soft enough to sleep on at all, and his butt killed him if he sat upright too long. He laid on his back and put his head on his arms, but it was still solid rock. Night made it even colder, and he curled into a ball, zipping his legs in his jacket to try to preserve the heat constantly being sapped away by the very air around him.

The night was long and sleep was scarce. He woke to sunlight, aching from head to toe, stiff as a board. Despite trying to stay warm all night, his face or fingers were numb, and with a splitting headache and a sore throat to boot. He was also hungry and his mouth was dry as a crypt. His chest hadn't stopped hurting yet and breathing was still harder than it should have been.

Had one single thing gone right for him lately? Because it certainly didn't seem like it had.

The chain fence cover rattled and clanged, but he didn't look. He didn't look at the tinkling glass noises that stopped directly above him either, or take his arm off his eyes. He did, however, croak at her: "Leave me alone."

"...but Flan just got here."

"Perfect, now you can leave again."

"Flan isn't dealing with mister's uneasiness anymore. Be nice to Flan or Flan will bully you."

"Or you will bully me? Then what the fuck do you call what you've been doing?"

"Being uneasy back."

"Ever hear that saying about two wrongs making a right?"

"Why do you say things Flan doesn't understand?

"Figures."

Silence. He didn't stir at all, half expecting a kick any second now. It didn't come yet, but there was time in the day left. He rolled on his side, facing away from Flandre. It wasn't any more comfortable sitting like this than before, unfortunately.

"If you're going to kill me, just do it already."

"Why would you say that?" Flan almost legitimately sounded appalled. Or was it disgust? Insult? Hard to tell. Yukkuri weren't known for their ability to articulate well.

"I'm not going to sit here getting kicked around by an oversized yukkuri shaped like some kid. Fucking kill me or let me go home."

"Uu...Flan doesn't want to do hurt-hurt, but mister lives with Flan now. Mister needs to follow Flan's rules and let Flan take it easy, and Flan will let mister take it easy. Understand easy?"

"...uh-huh. And what're these 'rules' of yours?"

"Mister rules are very easy! Mister has to do what Flan says. Mister has to help Flan take it easy. Mister can't run away. If mister follows mister rules, Flan will treat mister good, and Flan and mister can take it easy together."

"I'm not your slave, you pastry fuck."

"Uu?! Slaves are uneasy things! Flan isn't scum, you know? Mister is Flan's very easy pet. There's a difference!"

"I'm not your fucking pet either!"

"Uu...so difficult, easy! Can't mister take it easy like this?"

No response. Flandre seemed to be waiting, but to him it sounded more like yukkuri gibberish than anything worthy of a reply. 

She huffed impatiently. "Flan doesn't understand why mister is being so uneasy about this."

"Maybe because you're dumber than shit, you fuugc-"

The kick hurt. A meteor struck his side and knocked the air from him - his entire diaphragm cringed in agony all at once, and the lance of pain from his chest brought tears to his eyes.

"Trash! Stop talking like trash to Flan! What did Flan say before? Are you stupid? Want to die?!"

It took some time to re-acquire use of his vocal cords. When he could make noise over a whisper, he grunted, "Want to go home."

"Mister lives in Flan's easy place now! Does mister understand? Flan can't say it any differently! Accept it easy and then take it easy with Flan, okay?"

"Fuck off."

"Why is mister so uneasy to Flan? Even though Flan didn't do anything wrong?"

"Just go die already!"

"Why would you say that?!"

Flandre made weird 'Uu' noises and stomped her feet in frustration. He braced for another kick, but it didn't come.

Something landed with a wet noise near his head - the bottom half of a yukkuri. It appeared be be twitching occasionally.

Flandre gave no explanation for her departure, just threw the fence section back over the entrance and left. It didn't matter where, she never went far. Not with a rebellious human taking up residence in her hole in the wall of a home.

He remained curled in a ball and closed his eyes, embracing the bleary haze of exhaustion where a dream should have been.

[Thomas the Dank Engine]

This is honestly... Really interesting!

[The Didact]

On Thursday, August 11, 2016 at 12:12:33 PM UTC-4, Thomas the Dank Engine wrote:

This is honestly... Really interesting!

(I'm glad you think so. ^^ I was hoping the shift in writing style wasn't too off. I don't normally do a ton of dialogue.)

---

Chapter 4

Three more days of imprisonment passed. To him they felt like weeks.

Each day was the same: he woke up from a brief unconsciousness or never truly went to sleep. He laid there for a while, taking in the misery of his current existence, and then the bodied Flandre, bringing the better half of a dead Reimu or Marisa yukkuri with her for him to eat. An argument would happen. He never really listened to what she was saying - if his head didn't hurt, something else did and made it hard to concentrate. He would be hit at least once for angering his captor. Either she would leave at this point, or he was too exhausted to want to participate further, which made her leave anyway. He'd stare outside for signs of his captor (who tended to loiter by the entrance) until night came. It'd get cold, and stay cold. He slept in blinks and didn't feel rested come morning. Then the process started over again.

He was cold. He was in pain; everything ached, every movement was a test of endurance and pain tolerance. He was only fed once in the morning, and spent the rest of the day hungry. His chest hadn't gotten better - breathing in fully still resulted in a stab of pain, and he couldn't talk loudly for long without feeling out of breath and dizzy. He had a headache at all times. He regularly lost feeling in his hands and toes and had started to develop a cough. Nothing was getting better, everything was getting worse. He couldn't even think clearly at most times.

Something had to give. He was reaching the limit of what he could endure. He just...had to leave. He wouldn't last like this.

He looked up. Flandre was standing there, arms crossed but pose otherwise neutral. He hadn't heard her approach. He also didn't know what to make of her expression.

"We need to talk."

A scoff - it was the most sarcastic thing he could manage at the moment. "We do, huh."

"Uu." Flandre crouched in front of him, wings making a tinkling sound as they folded and stretched again. She held her chin in one hand pensively for a moment before she spoke again: "Flan wants to know why mister can't take it easy."

He leaned back, slowly, arduously stretching out enough to lay down with minimal discomfort. "No you don't."

"Yes Flan does. Look at Flan."

He closed his eyes.

"Stop it. Look at Flan."

"There's nothing to talk about. You don't fucking listen to me."

"Flan is trying, but mister says things Flan doesn't understand. Flan wants mister to take it easy, so Flan has to know things, okay?"

No response.

"...mister?"

"No."

"Hey!"

"Go away."

"Flan is trying her best, you know?"

"My throat hurts. Not doing this shit again."

A long, frustrated groan, followed by a loud crash of the chain fence gate. He didn't move, though, and sure enough she returned after a few minutes of absence.

"Drink."

He looked up at her. In her hand was a water bottle, clearly thrown out and covered in dirt, label half peeled away. It had no cap on it, and the contents of the bottle was conspicuously...debris-ridden.

"...yeah, no."

"Drink, then talk with Flan."

"No. That shit is gross. Like you."

"Saying trash things so quickly..."

"Don't even fucking start. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you. You and your slave bullsh-"

"Pet!"

"Pet! Slave! Whatever! I don't fucking care, just leave me alone! I'm too tired for this crap all the time. Just fuck off and die!"

He rolled onto his side, facing away from Flandre. A moment later, a set of iron vices clamped down on his shoulder and swung him back the other way. Flandre's expression was hard now, concern replaced with contempt.

"Flan has been trying very hard to be nice to mister, but your scum attitude is seriously pissing me off. Talk to Flan, or else."

He tried to reclaim control of his arm. When he could not, his eyes rolled back as he laid back down on the ground, covering his eyes with the one free arm he still had. His control of the situation only ever seemed to last as long as her patience.

"...fine, dude, what the fuck do you want?"

She released his arm. "Flan wants to know why mister hates Flan."

"Because I feel awful and you kidnapped me."

"Flan doesn't know what that means."

"Oh my god, you fucking pastries-"

"Shut up and answer in not-scum ways."

"Fuck it, fine, alright? When you take a person, who really wants to be somewhere, and you force them to be somewhere else, and they can't get away, we humans call that 'kidnapping.'"

"And that's why mister is mad? Flan doesn't see the big deal."

"Yeah well, it's a fucking big deal to us, alright? If you kidnap someone, they send people after you to get them back and then they shove you in jail for a very long time. People usually only kidnap people they plan to hurt."

"Flan doesn't want to hurt mister."

"Who gives a shit? That doesn't make it better! Just let me fucking go already! What do you even want with me?"

"Flan told mister, mister is Flan's easy pet."

"I don't want to be your fucking pet! I've already got a home!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"What d- what? It has everything to do with it!"

"Mister has an easy place here, so mister doesn't need another easy place somewhere else. Flan is sharing."

"I have a home, you fuck! My home! Mine! I own it, I live there, and I want to go back there, so I don't have to deal with the likes of you anymore!"

"What is mister saying? Flan is sharing Flan's easy place with mister, so it's mister's easy place now! Understand it easy!"

"I don't want your home, I want my home!"

"What does it matter whose easy place it is? Stop saying things Flan doesn't understand!"

"Because it's...." He stopped and took a breath as deep as he could, covering his fave with his arms while he did. His head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen, he couldn't keep this pace up. Too much work. Too much energy. "God I'm tired."

"Mister needs to sleep-sleep better. Can't take it easy tired."

"Don't you fucking think I try? Look at this place."

"If it can't be helped, mister can sleep with Flan? Mister bed can take it easy."

"Tree branches and plastic bags? On solid rock? Does that sound even remotely comfortable to you?"

"Flan sleeps there all the time! Mister floor only scratches a little sometimes, so put mister bed down, or mister pine leaves. That should fix for mister, right?"

"It's still solid rock!"

"Uu...Flan thinks mister is being spoiled. Mister floor isn't as easy as super soft-soft, but can still take it easy. Mister should stop being selfish and endure it easy!"

"I- what? You can't expect me to just...and it's cold! It's the middle of November! Look at these clothes!"

"What is mister saying? It's not that cold? Mister winter isn't even here yet. Mister's clothes are even thicker than Flan's! Mister has no reason to be complaining."

He just...stared at her. He didn't even know what to say at this point, still struggling to understand what the disconnect was. How didn't she get what he was going through? How could she live like this herself? Weren't yukkuri more fragile than humans, even when bodied?

"...do you know anything about humans?"

"Flan knows enough to know that mister is being ungrateful. Flan's easy place is very easy!"

"Yeah, maybe for you, but humans aren't yukkuri."

"Stop saying things Flan doesn't understand."

"What's there to not understand? Apparently you can live here. I can't. I happen to know this because I've been fucking miserable for the last week you've had me trapped here!"

"What is mister saying? Flan's easy place is very easy-"

"-for you! This is your easy place. It's a yukkuri's easy place. Humans aren't yukkuri! Humans need human easy places! Like my home! My home is great! It's got heat, food, an actual bed, a door, four walls...and it's definitely better than a fucking cave in the middle of nowhere!"

"Flan's easy place is just as good as mister's easy place!"

"It's not even close. This place is garbage."

"Why would you say that?!"

Mister pressed on his temples, breathing slow to try to keep the room from spinning. This was so stupid. He hurt, his head was throbbing, he wanted to ring this stupid creature's neck till its head popped off and started to bounce around. These things were so stupid!

"I'm going to try to explain this one more time, real slow-like. I can't fucking think, so I don't know if I can explain this any better, so you better listen."

She stared at him. Probably good enough.

"'Kay." He took as deep a breath as he could, trying to compose himself. "Mister," he pointed at himself, "is a human. Right?"

Red eyes remained locked on him.

"Flandre," he pointed at her, "is a yukkuri. Right?"

"Get to the point and stop talking like Flan is stupid."

"Well it's obvious to me, but apparently you don't get it. I dunno why."

"Then explain more."

"Mmkay...so the rest goes like this. You listening?"

More expectant staring.

"Flandre picked this easy place, right?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Flan can take it easy here."

"Uh-huh. Aaaand mister chose his easy place...why?"

Flan stared at him for several seconds, processing. "...because mister can take it easy there?"

"Yes. So what's the difference between your easy place and my easy place?"

Flandre's brow furrowed. It took a few more seconds before she tentatively responded, "Flan can't think of anything. There's no difference."

"Wrong. There is a world of difference between a human home and a yukkuri home. Wanna know why they're different? Because one is meant for humans, and one is meant for yukkuri. Humans and yukkuri are different. Really different!"

"Flan doesn't understand what mister is saying."

"Why? I seriously don't see how you're missing this. You say you can sleep on this floor fine? Humans can't. It's fine for you, it's not fine for me."

She stared. Either thinking, listening, or drawing blank. Two out of three was hopeful.

"You think this temperature is fine? Humans don't. I'm so cold right now I can't stand it. My face hurts, my hands hurt, my fucking lungs hurt. I spend all fucking day trying to keep warm and I barely manage it. I'm hungry all the time - you won't let me leave, so I can't feed myself. And I can't leave! Do you know how much space humans need? I'm so stiff all the time I can barely move!"

No response.

"Please tell me you're making sense out of this."

She nodded slightly. "...so what is mister saying?"

"I am saying," he said slowly, "I want out. I can't live here. I'm not spoiled, I'm miserable. This place doesn't have what I need and I hate it. I want to go home, where I have everything I need people I know. People will start to notice I'm gone, too - people that care about me. They'll start looking and they'll get worried. You think that's fair to them? You want to do that to those people?"

Flandre's gaze shifted away from him. In truth he only had some friends from work and some extended family that would pick up on his absence, but she didn't need to know that. In fact, if she thought dozens of people would fret night and day while he was missing, then all the better. Maybe guilt would help this paste-for-brains joke of a life-form see some reason.

"I need to go home."

No response.

"...like, I have to go home. I don't know if I'll survive out here. You want me to die?"

"No." Flandre's wings twitched as she began to fiddle with her fingers, still avoiding his gaze. "Mister...doesn't deserve to die."

"Then let me go."

No response for a time. The silence made him uncomfortable. He got that this yukkuri wasn't terribly smart...or at least, was as smart as a yukkuri could be, so unless he knew for sure what it was thinking, it was very hard to tell how it would act. There was no telling if he'd get this close by talking through it again. If this didn't work...

"Flan will think about it."

Shit. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What do you even have to think about? It's so obvious! Just let me go! Do you not get that I can't stay here?"

"Be quiet. Flan understands what mister is saying, but...Flan just has to think, okay?"

"You make me want to scream."

"Then scream. Flan won't go any faster."

"I hope it blows out your ears, you pastry freak of-"

Splat. Half a yukkuri splattered beside him, landing on his hand and making him recoil in disgust. Flandre smirked slightly.

"...if you're gonna keep me waiting, will you at least bring more food back? I'm always hungry."

"Mister gets the same amount of food Flan gets."

"Humans need more than this a day."

"...fine. Flan will think about what mister said while Flan does hunt-hunt. Take it easy while Flan is gone."

"Yeah right."

Once more was he left alone in the yukkuri's chilly abode. Any other time, he would have found himself growing unbearably restless with anticipation. After all, freedom was closer now than it ever had been. No more hugging himself for hours just to keep feeling in his fingers. No more being forced to stay in the same tiny area with nay a comfortable surface to rest on. No more dealing with bodied yukkuri that made him feel so insignificant and weak.

The longer he thought about it, however, the more something heavy started to worm its way into his chest.

It was cold. Nearly winter, in fact. He didn't remember what day he'd been here since, or how long it had been, but it had to be roughly halfway through November. Snow would be here soon. In truth, probably one of the only reasons he hadn't caught frostbite or hypothermia was that the cave was naturally sheltered from the wind. Windchill would destroy him.

On top of that, what was he going to do even if that Flandre's let him go? He didn't know where he was, just that it was very isolated. Wherever the highway was, he might be waiting days before someone drove by. Was he just going to, what, walk? In the wind and cold? And what about food? Water? What if it rained? What if it snowed? How could he last long enough to find civilization?

Was it the yukkuri that was keeping him trapped, or was it the environment? How many cages was he locked in? Could he even get out of them all? How screwed was he?

Very screwed. Too screwed, even. There was just...no chance.

Flandre's came back after about an hour's wait. He didn't look at her, laying on the floor on his side, head on his arms.

"Flan did thought about what mister said."

He didn't respond, just staring past her legs. He had a feeling he knew what she was about to tell him anyway.

"Flan says mister can't leave. Flan decided to make mister her easy pet human, and Flan's mind is made up. If mister can't take it easy, Flan will help mister, but mister doesn't leave Flan."

He didn't say anything.

"Mister shouldn't be upset, because Flan is a very easy master. Flan will take good care of mister. Flan's easy place might not be very easy for mister, but Flan will help mister take it easy here. Mister is still Flan's easy pet and has to follow mister rules now, because Flan is agreeing to help mister. If mister understands, mister should stop acting scum-like, and then mister and Flan can take it easy together."

He didn't react. He didn't hear her, wasn't listening. He rolled over to face away from her.

"...does mister understand it easy?"

Silence.

"Uu...Flan is trying to be patient now, so Flan won't punish mister that is difficult. Flan brought extra munch-munch, like mister wanted."

Flandre dropped off a still twitching dead yukkuri next to him and seated herself in the opposite side of the cave. 

He could feel her watching him, but he didn't care. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to go home, and how he finally realized that there was no way out. 

[Hitosura]

Here, here.  I like the concept.  I'll save my comments for when you're finished.

[Thomas the Dank Engine]

Man.. It's like. This place dies, then suddenly a shit storm of fanfics pop up

[Thomas the Dank Engine]

Weird way of me putting it. But this forum is the definition of lemmings. Traffic here (from what I know) nearly goes extinct, and then it spikes again in fanfics. This is weird. But awesome story. I really want more of this shiz dude

[ViewerOfLuckyStars]

really interesting, it basically swaps the role of pet and owner. The human if it was a Yukkuri would be considered a shit head but like if any normal person had this happen to him I think similar things would happen. Like rationally he should listen to the Flandre but he's being basically tortured right now there's no way he can make a rational decision under these circumstances. It's basically a abuse fic but the human is getting abused not the pet.