#Wammy's House Days

[y-the-youthful]

F was never one to bother someone about their personal business. Yes he did stalk whoever he could online and yes he did often sit around and spy on people just out of curiosity and boredom, but he never went up to someone and started asking questions.

But this time it was different, because no amount of spying could get him the answers he desperately wanted.

"Oh Y~" He sang as he skipped down the hall and stumbled into whatever room she was in at the moment, "I hate to be a bother but I have some questions. Is it true you can eat anything? Like anything anything and nothing bad happens to you?"

He posed the question with a stupidly excited grin on his face, "Because if that's true," his eyes shifted around to check for any other listeners, seeing non he continued, "I have some stuff I want to give you. Just for a little experiment. Nothing bad, should be harmless."

-F, (Fairweather-fangs)

Every day.

Every day they feel themselves aging a little more on account of the fact that everyone must know what horrifying thing they can eat next. Part of it, she cannot deny, is because of her own twisted curiousity: will this be the thing that kills her?

"Please do not call me Y, I am Yoriko." The first thing they started with. They knew it was basically hopeless, and many suspected that even the name was a code in its own right. It was not.

After a moment's stare, they nodded.

"Nothing has been impossible for me so far, although I loath the taste of most of it." Being edible did not mean being delicious, sadly, and that was the tragedy of life. "If it is one of C's experiments being passed to you, first let him know that for the disrespect I am eating his belladonna before you proceed."

[y-the-youthful]

Eating a soap bar is one of the tamest things I have eaten, and that was while making direct eye contact with the others.

-Y

Some actions are impossible, like nibbling on smoke - really, you can’t eat Nothing. But you can eat a soap bar, which is highly not recommended, but anything for science’s sake!

[wammyhoe]

Liking Mello is not enough, I need to join the mob

[y-the-youthful]

"Hey.. uh.." Nervous shuffle over to the other, hands in pockets. "Hi. I've over heard you're helpful. Could you help me catch a mouse?" Oh yeah. Holds hand out, "Saturn."

"Saturn, a lovely name. I am Yoriko." Never one to use code names. "And yes, of course, I happen to be an expert in catching small animals."

Or any animals for that matter, it pays to hunt for your meals.

[paradisepoisoned]

Your tags said that your legacy is Matt's mom? Tell us about her!

This is Jezebel Madeleine Jeevas (but due to the creative cruelty of school children she’s been called Jizzabel one too many times so you can just call her Maddie.)

Idk if people want my full shitty backstories for the Wammy kids but let’s just say that 80% of her problems probably could have been solved if teen mom was a show in the 90’s and that she was the shittiest stripper and con woman the western hemisphere has ever seen.

She loved her son/partner in crime very very much.

Much love to @neallo and @fruitynear for letting me scream about characters that don’t exist.

Lemme know what you guys think and If you want the whole back story

Should I draw Mello’s mom next?👀

[y-the-youthful]

Yoriko stares for a while, then pulls away from the window to lie on the floor. There is heating in this room, unlike hers, so the floor is not bitter in its chill. It could do with being warmer, but Yoriko always kept complaints to herself.

"I think it upsets him, but he cannot say anything. I asked him, once. I do not think he is entirely willing, he just likes solving cases." A pause, a musing at the tip of her tongue. "He was taken in quite young, I remember. Like us. Maybe there was no other path allowed for him."

y-the-youthful​:

“I suppose some would say the meaning of life is to find the meaning of life. Personally I think life is fundamentally meaningless so anything of legitimate importance to you has as much value as anything else.”

In that sense, despite everything, Yoriko is an optimist. None of it matters so it is all valuable. The words of a hoarder.

“I don’t mind looking for meaning I just want life up till I find it to not suck….Can’t something be pointless and still be nice…”

She muttered bitterly , flopping back and gloomily tracking the few constellations she could’ve fit on the ceiling, weren’t many admittedly rooms weren’t larger then needed, the space was saved for Wammy’s communal areas.

“….it must be weird for him…knowing a bunch of kids are trying to become little hims….”

[tea-cake-and-sarcasm]

Death note headcannon:

Mello is severely lactose intolerant and that's why he's always in a mood

[y-the-youthful]

"... While I don't enjoy being seen like this, I don't feel there is much other choice. I'm not feeling well, B is trying to take advantage of that and I am trying to find somewhere to sleep that he can't easily slither into."

"Come in, come in." Z is off elsewhere for the night, so his space is free. She makes sure the door is closed and puts a door stop in place. This is a B-free zone. "You can have my bed, it is no worry at all."

Hers does also happen to have better blankets.

"Do you need anything? I can make a drink?"

[probablygayattorneys]

I came to peace with the fact that my Layton family would never be complete and while it still technically isn’t

@vaptainhammer did find me a different misanthropic but brilliant detective who doesn’t trust easily and seems to have very few, if any, friends and is an orphan!

[y-the-youthful]

"I suppose the closest thing we would have to a captain would be L, or Roger, but it is more like... the ship is stuck on a sand bank and we are pretending we are moving." That sounds about right for a description of Wammy's House and, they hope, a sensible warning on the mess to be expected.

Part of the crew. Part of the ship. (Welcome back to the pit.)

[Umbral smiles, taking in Y's appearance. What an interesting looking person.] Can I be the captain? Or is that you?

[wammys-house-official]

as i said in the screenshots it wasnt that bad

What the hell has been happening while I was dying of pollen???? That looks like something I'd force feed near tbh

-Mello

[paradisepoisoned]

WIPS because I broke my pencil, so until I get a new one, I'll just share some of the things I didn't finish before her untimely demise. in the meantime all I will say for now is they are both milfs respectfully and the only thing they have in common are throwing rocks at tanks and probably know what it feels like to kill a man with just their bare hands.

Bonus: somewhere in a trailer park, far, far away in the magical kingdom of Florida.

[massivecore13]

[ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] ― after:)

[ December 2000 ]

'Genius ─ the pursuit of madness.'

The unnamed quote found in old journals still rings in Backup's mind when the memory of that day knocks at the door of his restless dreams.

There's no better word to describe the violent crime committed behind the curtains of a happy place for little prodigies. A series of experiments to nurture the perfect forms of successors, puppets in the hands of sadist men victims of glutton and capitalism, just to be labelled as failure. Meat for slaughter for a fucking nothing.

Was it the main reason for the madness chasing them? Of the tragedy that would consume between Wammy's house walls?

Drunk on the pleasure of their little cat-and-mouse play, Beyond didn't foresee what would happen after its end. Naive to believe ─ it felt like the world rotated around one certainty. Beyond coming up with new ideas to commit the promised murder and After blocking any single one of his attempts. Forever and ever and ever and ever.

'Also... ist das der Abschied?'

(Then... is it a farewell?)

Beyond's creativity died the day Yuri effectively died. 

Lying down on the floor, a hand on the boy's chest, he witnessed the turning point of the madness they all were victims. And he felt─ 

Nothing. 

Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing─

(Yuri's lips were as cold as the emptiness left in the culprit's soul)

[ May 2002 ]

Nothing made sense since then. Was there ever a sense after all? Into the dangerous games, into interests children shouldn't have?

Life is not worthy without an obsession ─ after the first child's death, the truth was almost unbearable for the one who remained.

Mulling over theories, complots, spits of anger, anything, anything, anything that could give his life a new sense. Was it that... missing someone? Could he tell to miss a presence? He knew the taste, the scent, the constellation of moles and dips and... He would mimic and recreate all these little details over the canvas of his existence IF it just fulfilled the void.

( Oh, there's an empty place in my bones that calls out for something unknown )

"I am L."

The last performance of the second prodigy before leaving the Wammy's House in utter silence left a few witnesses speechless.

"Er er, again. I am L."

A is speaking to a gothic L painted with black paint on the mirror.

B is speaking to a gothic L painted with black paint on the mirror.

Nails claw at layers of makeup and prosthetics, digging deeper and deeper into the fake resemblance of the first successors in their prime youth. A vision as horrific as the blood flooding through the cracks of the mask, rivulets falling into the void of blank laughter.

"Something unknown, uh..."

The answer to the madness falls to pieces the second his fists land on the mirror. Glasses crash louder in a crystal rain of red eyes and the satisfaction of a new obsession fulfilling his dreams.

The first children aren't a failed experiment, oh no-no, he would all prove them wrong! Prove you wrong, L!

"You'll be the next victim of this fucking madness, L."

The last fragments catches the scorn of a shadow looming, judging.

Beyond knew it was there, trailing after him in silence since Yuri's death, yet completely ignored.

"You can go." Beyond is fairly lucid in the renewed turmoil of chasing a new victim. The fire burns in his eyes as he turns towards what he still thinks is a hallucination. "You can fucking go, Yuri, go search for the mystery of the afterlife away from me."

But the ghost doesn't go away. It keeps following Beyond in his silent escape to Los Angeles. Without a word, observing. It's unnerving and so like After. And it tastes like ages of their silly play.

"I will reach you in Hell after this. You know I always keep my promises."

[qeyond]

I heard you say that You'd lost, you'd lost You'd lost your way But I don't think you had much to lose That house was never built for you And I ain't gonna hang my head for them For them And I ain't gonna let them Paint the truth with sin And I ain't gonna tell you it's okay But at the end of the day You were just something they'd blame

B always knew A's days were numbered, and while the Eyes were never kind enough to whisper secrets locked behind tear choked throats, he always knew. He always knew.

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

[y-the-youthful]

Focused on the kettle, turned away from him, her face is flat. Yoriko, for all her want of strong emotions, is neutral to many things and it stresses out many people. The only things she is not neutral towards are things that have such strong emotions attached to them that they are startling.

One of the things that Yoriko is profoundly attached to, emotionally, is friends. Many thought Yoriko had lots of friends, but truthfully people saw politeness in a place like this and deemed it friendly. Just as many saw that friendliness and deemed it weakness, and were entirely naive to their future torment being Yoriko's responsibility, because another thing Yoriko was emotionally attached to was getting even.

Breaking the chocolate into smaller pieces in the pumpkin cup, a cup she had silently labelled as Feng's cup, it was clear that Feng was one of those rare genuine friends she had.

"Of course you can, you are always welcome to it." And though their face is flat, wide-eyed focused on the cup, the voice is soft. It is not quite that airy-gentle voice many are used to, the more natural tones slipping in as they pour in oat milk, the kettle clicking and stirring as hot water is poured in. "I, for one, always love extra warmth."

[ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌 ] ― sender calms receiver down from a panic attack in a loud place (remembers the text)

(=Strangely enough F gets panic attacks from quiet places.=)

F hardly ever had any mental health issues, which was shocking considering all he'd been through. He'd assumed it was the drugs, and it probably was. The biggest issue he seemed to have was loneliness.

F was a very social person. He liked having other people around even if he wasn’t interacting with them which is why he was often seen lurking in the corners of well populated rooms not doing anything. He hated how empty his room was without another person. It made him feel alone again, isolated, distant.

It was a disgusting feeling that seemed to grab a hold of him and not let go. Laying in bed he felt anxious. As if everything were coming down on him. He tried to brush it off. It was nothing surely. He'd felt anxiety before and it was never an issue but this time it certainly was because with the hour he was on the floor hyperventilating, tears streaming down his face and barely able to speak.

He held his phone shakily in his hand and messaged the first person he could think of: Yoriko. If anyone could deal with a panic attack it was probably her.

He sent her a few jumbled messages but she didn't respond.

'Fuck,' he thought, 'She's probably asleep.'

F considered staying in his room and riding it out, hoping the adrenaline would leave his system and he'd fall asleep but the blinding lights of his room served to overwhelm him and decided any place was better than here.

It was a harsh stumble down the hallway and across the building. But he made it without being bothered and clawed at Yoriko's door to let him in away from the dreadful hallway, which was equally as horrid as his room.

The door opened with a very confused and tired Yoriko who quickly turned to concerned and allowed him in seeing him in such a condition. F collapsed by her bed and tried to keep himself contained. He tried to focus on Yoriko as she knelt down next to him and took his hands in hers.

Sounds didn't seem to come to him. He could swear she was saying something but he could hardly understand. He himself was trying to say something though he kept switching through languages making everything he said come out as a nothing but a jumbled mess of slurred speach.