Aphmau One-Shots

dumbass blonde (Garroth)

*AU where Garroth has an ED (TW for mentions of self harm and unhealthy eating behaviors) originally posted on Ao3, but transferred on Wattpad after it's deletion, some changes were made

Garroth never had to worry about going without. His family was definitely on the richer side of things; they always had it good in his home even when the a majority of the population seemed to starve off in some far off third world country. Ads and commercials flashing on the TV - showing stick thin people with sunken, hopeless eyes.  

It acts as a reminder, at times when he wants to snack or stray from his diets. (Suffer with them, because you never suffered before - not like that)

The days seem to get harder as they pass. (hunger claws at his bulging stomach - filling up his head with food.)

Not to say Garroth does not deserve it. (because deep down Garroth knows he does - he deserves every single shitstorm he gets thrown his way) 

It's a small price to pay for all of his wrongdoings that haunt him in the dark of night.

But Dear Irene, he's trying.

Trying so much, it's killing him. The scale which he stands on, every morning and every night, his very own twisted religion created only to mock him. Destroying his hopes and dream and happiness. As its voice reminds him over, and over, that Garroth is not trying hard enough.

That he is not enough.

///

Garroth has failed repeatedly throughout the years, but the worst by far was when he was first beginning his journey.

Being on a diet after all required one to reduce calorie intake, and thus the food they eat.

He found himself scouring the kitchen, before he came face to face with a pack of cookies.

Chocolate chip cookies; with the melty type of chocolate that when he ate them left his mouth watering for more, his favorite. The ones that he would have had with a full glass of fatty, creamy milk, most of the times colder than hot.

As always, the ever pestering voice never left him. It was always scolding and screeching for him to get his sausage-like fingers away from the disgusting foods, ordering him to go out and exercise before going to sleep. A punishment, if you will, for his lack of self-control.

But dear Irene, he was so hungry.

Usually, he nibbled on apple slices to keep his sweet tooth at bay. Garroth decided to skip everything for that day. The blood coursed through his body and his heart drummed in his chest, drowning out the voice, momentarily at least.

"Just one," Garroth had whispered to himself (maybe even praying to the Lady above, to save him just for today - let him off the hook once more), " I'll only have one."

Despite the muffled screaming of the voice at him to put it down. To stop this horrendous behavior and put the cookie back in its place. Garroth moistened his lips and closed his eyelids as he took a small bite.

Garroth moaned, his senses over flooded by the sweetness.

He didn't stop at one, or two. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

And the voice kept on screeching and it was horrible.

Why couldn't he stop?

Suddenly there is light in the previously dim kitchen, letting Garroth see the empty pack of cookies, and chocolate and crumbs that are staining his fingers.

Garroth felt sick.

And he could distantly feel the eyes of his best friend on him.

'How could have you let yourself become this. Laurence is probably going to tell all of our friends about how far and gross you are,' the voice mocks. Garroth suppressed the unwanted shiver crawling up his back. He can't tell if it's out of fear, or because of how cold it is.