#hello puppets canon

[ericaportfolio]

I want to clarify something for the Scout Saves the Show AU. Just for everyone to know, the Handeemen puppets are not related to each other thanks to a tweet question I made some time ago here in the link below. Andrew Allen had a good perspective on everything in the series so far that I'll do another post about it if everyone wants me to.

Clearly, Andrew can't reveal much information since I think he was hinting for the next game. I believe the next game in the series will focus on the idea of what found family is and what makes one healthy or toxic. The Handeemen versus what I believe will be Vox Veritas. Mortimer tries to make every puppet have some family-like structure versus Vox Veritas being friends helping and supporting each other with some imperfections because THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL! We all know Anthony Pierson’s fate in the first game! The Hello Puppets series is a tragedy after all.

Now putting my game theory to the side, what does this have to do with my AU? Mortimer is trying to do something similar to how Game Mortimer is trying to make the Handeemen a family structure found family despite some obvious toxic signs that shouldn’t be normalized in a kid's show. Thus why the Show Universe crew members worry about cancellation every day, along with the worry of somebody kicking the bucket. Then Scout entered the picture and threw a wrench into EVERYTHING! This makes the Handeemen rethink what found family is, and Mortimer gets a reality check he can’t expect someone to view him as a father and call him dad overnight. Riley is the most interesting because she gets overthrown as the golden child of the group and receives a challenger for fan favorite. Plus, Riley who once tried to be viewed as a daughter figure to Mortimer, gets shattered and has to confront her true problems with her relationship with her mother and come to peace with the grief of the loss of her biofather.

[cryptic-loser]

I'm so normal about these puppets

I'm gonna be posting about my AUs again,,, I promise 💔

[hamsamwich23]

Judgment: If he comes into the elevator while both of us are present the most important thing to remember is...

Judgment: We don't know each other

Judgment: To you I should remain an infant God who's mental blockage against your abilities irks you

Judgment: And in my eyes, you'll be the malicious puppet that, while I feel sympathetic for, I do not miss being in your place.

Folly: mmhhmmmhmmm. is that how you see me? A pitiful mannequin pawn?

Judgment: When we first met in that other world? Yes. You are Cruel. Foolish. Tragic even. Though your positive change in mood and desire was... interesting.

Judgment: and when I saw WHY you were more content there, and why you didn't want to go home...it started to come together.

Folly: ....It's odd of you to be able to see my darkest moments whenever you desire the knowledge, while I cannot even get around whatever horrible thing plagues your mind in those dreams.

Judgment: A tad bit hypocritical, I think it's normal for something in my situation.

Judgment: perhaps you should consider it...."a taste of your own medicine" as the saying goes.

Folly: ...

Folly: ...This plan of yours better result in nothing less than perfection.

[anonymousegeek]

Halloween's coming up

Time to draw me n the malewife in silly costumes

Him as Mortimer Handee and me as Riley Ruckus bc heehoo silly puppet horror game

Do people still remember Hello Puppets? •̄ _ •̄

[moresardinez]

First you Eat with your Eyes.

He’s a puppet, he has no teeth, but Darling is infected; so does Walls Home have teeth or not?

Wally is too cute and already off putting without teeth, but I just wanted to Play around.

(I will gradually figure out how I want to draw him, I swear. I want to draw Julie and Frank next, but absolutely no promises that it’s gonna look nice :p)

[bread-lady]

Mortimer: this weekends safety brief, scout if you may

Scout: okay remember dipshits!Don't add to the population. *glaring at riley* don't subtract from the population! Don't end up in the hospital newspaper or jail!

Nick:*already raising his hand*

Scout: if you end up in jail establish dominance quickly.

Mortimer: that it is have a good weekend!

[sketchy-tour]

HEY REMEMBER THAT GRADE A CRINGE I WAS TELLING YALL ABOUT???

Anyway hello hi hello! This is Ivy Darling, yes yes he's the apple of Dandy and Wally's silly eyes. A pal of mine made a sort of AU where they made a stork puppet so we could design little fan babies so here we are!!!

TECHNICALLY Ivy isn't super canon to Dandy's story? But Ivy is so very comforting for me to draw if I'm very honest. Just...happy family moments ya know?? Idk idk. He's here and he's just a little guy.

Anywho, the Special Delivery AU that this is based off of belongs to @parrotparfait

OH I ALMOST FORGOT the second child in the sketches, the one holding Ivy's hand, is his half sister Bloom who's Dandy and Gloom's fan child designed by @theknifeclown jknfdjn Gosh the baby au lore is silly.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Oct 18th

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1. itmf fics where jiang yanli becomes the yunmeng jiang sect leader?

the focus doesn’t necessarily have to be on that aspect but i would love to see how that would turn out

thanks!

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)

Sail Away Sweet Sister by sami (M, 73k, WangXian, YZY/CSSR/MDM Lan, MingLi, Time Travel, EXTREME Canon Divergence, Wide Focus Narrative, Some People Live/Not Everyone Dies, Most Named/Canon Characters Live, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Families of Choice, Parenthood, this work contains a major tonal shift, Fluff, Angst, Underage Sex, not particularly explicit, but not at all ambiguous, PTSD, Only a tiny bit, Unforeseeable consequences, The butterfly effect, Slightly Dark JYL, Asexual Characters, but that’s not really the focus, Canon-Typical Violence, [Podfic] Cold read of Sail Away Sweet Sister by kisahawklin)

picking up the pieces by KouriArashi (M, 111k, JYL & LWJ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Alternate Canon, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Regret, Family, Kid Fic, Families of Choice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical political bullshit, Eventual Happy Ending)

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 82k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, JC is slowly becoming a good sibling, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX) If the requester doesn't mind a WIP, plans for Jiang Yanli taking over as sect leader begin in chapter 18 of I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me

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2. hi hi! any fics which have the song WangXian as the main focus or play a big part?

hi this is the person who sent the WangXian song ask I forgot to mention that I'd prefer if it was modern au but canon is fine too!

synesthesia by uchiuchi (T, 28k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

A Wish I Can't Stop Making by Tirielle (T, 51k, XuanLi, WangXian, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Mystery, Secret Identity, Wishes, Magic, Canon, JYL Lives, JZX Lives, JGY Redemption, Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Hairpins as a metaphor for love, Idiots in Love)

🔒Closer Than Eternity by Netrixie (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, an unhealthy addiction to starbucks, Immortals, cultivation is -kinda- commonplace, Self-Doubt, POV Alternating, Minor Original Character(s), Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, not for jc fans, This is not a reconciliation fic)

every love story is a ghost story by aisthuu (M, 59k, WangXian, Modern Era, Reincarnation, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Mixed Canon)

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3. Hello, I’m not sure if you’ve answered this before but do you have any fics where Wei Ying dies in the burial mounds and resurrects or ends up puppeting his body with resentful energy? Thanks so much!

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) link in #6B Not sure if this counts because WWX is technically dead but also not?

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4. Hello! I was wondering if anyone has seen any fanfic with canon wwx exchanging places with a wwx that had parents? With canon I just mean orphan and preferably without any good/nice yzy, I just really want to see everyone's reactions to how different he would be of he had parents and wwx's reaction to how his parents are but I haven't been able to find anything like that 😞

I would specially love if it's during the crsa but if it's not that's fine!

Thank you! @menimimimeni

in a dream, i was home by thelastdboy (M, 25k, WangXian, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Time Travel Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Different First Meeting, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Sentient Burial Mounds, CSSR and WCZ Live, Families of Choice, Protective LWJ, Everybody Lives, Temporary Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Golden Core Reveal, Fluff, Developing Relationship, Wen Remnants Live, WQ Lives, WN Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX)

🔒the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account) (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ/LQR, Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Past Child Abuse, Canon Jiang Family Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Not for Madam Yu fans)

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5. Hi! Thanks for the work you do. I’ve found so many great fics! I’m in the mood for fics where Wei Wuxian comes back in his original body. Thank you 😊

Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian)

Always Light My Way by cqlorphan (E, 27k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Friends With Benefits, to lovers, wherein dual cultivation may be counted as a benefit, Jealous WWX, a little bit, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, angsty sex, Switch WangXian, Bottom LWJ, Service Top LWJ, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, the angsty sex happens in the beginning but they get past it dw, Oblivious LWJ, archer wwx, Smart WWX, Porn with Feelings, probably at least half of this fic is just that, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dual Cultivation)

the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness)

This House of Ill Repute by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (M, 13k, WangXian, First Time, Post-Canon, Getting Together)

蓝色生死恋; a blue love (to live and to die for) by yiqie (M, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, wedding fic, Psychological Trauma, Empathy)

Life before you was tragic by covalentbonds (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, Fluff and Humor)

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6. Hi!! I’m in the mood for fics where people believe A) Wei Wuxian actually birthed A-Yuan (when he didn’t) and B) fics where WWX is inhuman. I prefer fics set in the canon timeline (i’ll accept modern fics if it’s WWX as a zombie or something though lol). It’s been surprisingly hard to find good fics with these premises.

6A)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) WWX makes a joke about giving birth to A-Yuan & a couple of Lan disciples believe it

Wei Wuxian, God of Fertility by tired (T, 19k, WangXian, Family Feels, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack, the juniors get REAL drunk, Gossip, POV Multiple, surprisingly not an mpreg fic, Kissing, Self-Esteem Issues, Discussion of Porn and Sex, Post-Canon, SOFT SOFT SOFT, married wangxian, Fluff and Humor, PSA: touching forehead ribbons gets you pregnant) focus on people believing Wei Wuxian gave birth to Yuan.

The Grandmaster of Demonic Reproduction by likeafox (E, 7k, WangXian, Kid Fic, not mpreg, but not-not mpreg?, Pregnancy Kink, Come play, LSZ deserves a sibling) focus on people believing Wei Wuxian gave birth to Yuan.

🔒Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple) has Lan Wangji believing Wei Wuxian when he says he birthed Yuan himself.

6B)

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding)

���️ A Corpse Called By Name by jaemyun (Not rated, 60k, WangXian, Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Horror, Zombie WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, yunmeng trio, Eventual WangXian, WWX is dad material even in death, Humor, YLLZ but make him dead, A Corpse Called By Name by jaemyun [Podfic] by Miss Appellation (Lizeth)) if the modern setting is okay then A Corpse Called By Name by jaemyun, featuring some angst and a very cute Zombie Wei Wuxian, it's amazing!

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7. Hello! Are there any Wen Qing centered fics? Both modern and canon?

Meet you at a different place by tawaen (M, 57k, WQ & WN, WN & MXY & WQ, WQ & WWX & WN, Eventual WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn’t kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ) Post-siege Ghost!WQ hunts down the scattered remains of WWX's spirit

💖 With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder) WQ time travels & goes on a murder spree

The Needle and the Nail by littledust (E, 119k, ChengQing, WQ Lives, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Memory Loss, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Explicit Rating Earned 14 Chapters In Because Slow Burn)

🔒 Meat by captain_apostrophe (E, 5k, NMJ/WQ, Modern, PWP, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism (Referenced), Hook-Up, himbo NMJ, horny WQ) set during a power outage

🔒 The Hand is a Voice (that can sing what the voice will not) by captain_apostrophe (E, 124k, NMJ/WQ, NHS & NMJ, WQ & WN, NHS & WN, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Non-Canon Relationship, WQ Lives, and is awesome, it's not Beauty & The Beast okay, NHS Being A Little Shit, Marriage of Convenience, arguing as a love language, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Minor Original Character(s), Everybody Lives, Slow Burn, only a little bit of smut, Childbirth) in which the Wens find a new home

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8. Hello~

It's me again, I just love this blog! I'm in the mood for fics where the Lan recognizes Wei Wuxian's geniuses and the Jiang doesn't, so the Lan plot to steal him or something. Could be arranged marriage or anything, really! I just really want the Lan appreciating his mind! @lostandmessedup

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) link in #6B

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing) link in #1

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 828k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

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9. ITMF: fanfics that take Madam Yu's abuse toward Wei Wuxian seriously, no Jiang Yanli bashing and without Wei Wuxian being mad immediately but instead needing time to realize that what happened was wrong. Thank you!!!!! :D

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 93k, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WN & WWX, WWX is a Wen, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Society Level Victim Blaming, Victim Blaming) If they don't mind an AU for 9, the very recently completed All Things Belong fits the request nearly perfectly.

~*~

10. hii could u recommend some office aus, slightly longer and complete ones?

thank you

Work-Life Balance is Not A Thing by catbrainedschemes (E, 17k, WangXian, Modern AU, Workplace Relationship, Romantic Comedy, Idiots in Love, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, but not that eventual, Pining, Dirty Talk)

🔒WangXian Office AU: What's the Tea... ? by Blackbeads461, Ladycroft4evr (M, 23k, WangXian, Modern Era - no cultivation, CEO WWX, Secretary LWJ, Office Romance, Rollercoaster ride of new love and angst and pining, office gossip, OYZZ is So Done, SS Bashing, more like pulling his leg, Awesome WQ, NHS is a Little Shit, no nsfw in this work but it is there in the next ones)

whether i’m gonna flip you off or pull you into the closet, i haven’t decided yet by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, Epistolary, Workplace Relationship, hostile coworkers to lovers who have not disclosed their relationship to hr, Human Resources, hr director!lwj, unknown corporate job!wwx, ft the junior squad as interns, told entirely thru emails and slack messages, Crack, Social Media, if you consider slack social media which is highly questionable, Enemies to Lovers)

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11. hi!! for the itmf, can i get anything where yllz!wwx get’s transported to the 13 years he’s dead (not him coming back to life, but specifically yllz!wwx being back in a world where he’s dead). bonus points if he’s been redeemed already. this may be weird and overly specific but i figured i’d try T_T

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12. ITMF: a fic where people found out it was LWJ who done corrupting. Not WWX

Bonus if the one that found out is LQR

Prefer if it was a humorous fic. But im okay if its not. Thanks!

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) (link in 6A) assuming they mean "shameless behavior" by "corrupting," Chapter 45 onward of Dispersing Clouds

🔒Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS) would also work but note that it starts off very lightheartedly and then gets very dark in chapter 4.

~*~

13. heyyy for the next itmf can i request something lsz-centric that shows his relationship with wwx and/or lwj? Growing up with them or when he's already grown up, anything works. Preferably canonverse, but I can also do aus. Thank you!!!

your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian (G, 10k, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Father-Son Relationship, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, More aligned with CQL than novel canon, Miscommunication, Eventual Positive Communication, Trying to be a family, how to tell your dad you want him to be your dad in 6 easy steps!)

Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Not Rated, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian, dad wangji, LWJ’s Questionable Parenting Skills, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Injury Recovery, Hopeful Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Inquiry by incendir (G, 10k, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian)

🔒 Not Yet (There As Needed) by sunrise_and_death (T, 13k, LSZ & WWX, JL & WWX, JL & LSZ, WangXian, Post-Canon, Family Feels, Family Bonding, POV LSZ, This Fic Has Everything, even more yearning, WWX & LSZ figuring out wtf their relationship is, Dramatic Revelations)

let the yoke fall from our shoulders by occultings (microcomets) (G, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Character Study, Mentions of Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, let capricorns cathart agenda, Happy Ending, Family Feels, Established Relationship)

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (WordsWritInStarlight) (G, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, LSZ is the best of boys and I will not hear debate, Music, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, [Podfic] to the act of making noise by Ceewelsh, flamingwell, kisahawklin, Rionaa)

~*~

14. It's spook month and that means our fave disaster necromancer birthday!! How about some recs of everyone's favorite fics celebrating Wwx's birthday? Any and all the birthday fics!!!

when I look over my shoulder by cafecliche (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, exorcist LWJ, medium wwx, vague The Conjuring AU, some horror elements, Pre-Relationship, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort)

On a night just like this one ... by DizziDreams (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX & The Juniors, The Junior Quartet, Ghost Stories, Comedy)

autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place by gusucloudbunny (dykebytrade) (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Autumn, Halloween, Fluff, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Haunted Houses, Pouty baby lwj, Mutual Pining)

💖 Regrets by antebunny (G, 37k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel, Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending)

an hour of sunshine by astrolesbian (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Mindless Fluff, halloween party)

In love with a ghost by Bookish_penguin (T, 14k, WangXian, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, junior shenanigans, Necromancy, Talking to Ghosts, Or in general spooky things, Post-Canon, references to death, where wwx is an expert on all things dead and dusted, because he’s one of them too, big yiling laozu vibes, wwx can be kinda creepy sometimes but everyone still loves him)

why'd the chicken jump over the fence by yellowcarnations (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff, Drunk LWJ)

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15. Itmf a fic where wwx adopts himself a younger sibling oc (basically he's being a parent but age gap between them isn't wide enough) like an orphaned shidi, street kid, or child of Jiang servant. And wwx has to provide for them out of his own stipend (which madam yu insists on remaining the amount for 1 person). How would that change plot? Distance him from Jiang sibs cause he eats with sib instead jaings? Better behaved at leactures or doesn't attend? Work hard & creative to care for them

~*~

16. Itmf wwx and lz ghost marry while one is dead/believed to be dead and the other is later resurrected. Esp if it's while wwx is dead and his name is cleared prior to or after the marriage, but while he's still dead. And how people react to their relationship/lz's affections because of this

Ghost Wedding by nirejseki (G, 4k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Ghost wedding, Introspection, Crack Treated Seriously, mostly seriously anyway, Good Uncle LQR)

lovers be lost (but love shall not) by la_muerta (T, 13k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, 1910s, Case Fic, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Ghost Marriage)

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17. Itmf any fics where wwx's name is cleared while he is dead/believed to be dead

🔒Confusion by Vrishchika (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, time travel)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[ckret2]

Hello! As someone who is very confused on the layout of the mystery shack, I gotta ask: where does bill sleep??? Like I know he sleeps somewhere upstairs, but he doesn’t usually sleep in the attic since the door had been firmly shut prior to the tooth fairy arc. So does he sleep in the hallway?

he sleeps in the attic, he doesn't sleep in the attic bedroom.

the layout of the mystery shack is somewhat inconsistent, but we get this map in season 2 and for fic writing purposes and building in the sims 4 purposes I use this as the "canonical" layout of the Mystery Shack:

Each room identified:

For necessity's sake (i.e. we ran outta room on the first floor), i've decided that several rooms, most notably Stan's (former) master bedroom and the main bathroom, are on some kind of magical invisible impossible second floor that logistically can't exist since the staircase goes directly to the attic, but that we won't worry about anyway.

This is the attic:

Notice most of it is a big open room. It appears to partially be used for storage (such as: when we see all Mabel's puppet supplies sitting around in the main attic in Sock Opera) but is mostly empty.

The kids' room is closed off. Bill sleeps in the main attic, underneath the window seat:

Except at the end of Journal 3 we know they threw out the window shaped like Bill and replaced it with normal glass. So it's more like,

In the bottom right corner of the window seat pic you can see the top step of the staircase going downstairs; the attic window seat is in the open attic space, not in a "room" and not closed behind any doors.

[zimt-deathnote]

MATT PUPPET HELLO??? I want 5.000 immediately. I also redesigned Mello's puppet to fit my version of him and it triggered a whole train of thoughts about the Mello puppet in general.

Take a look at the canon. Left is Near's puppet. Right is how Mello showed up at the SPK headquarters (aka the only time Near had the time to actually look at how Mello looks like AND DIDN'T EVEN TURN AROUND ONE TIME TO LOOK AT HIM).

Near has surveillance footage of him entering the building though, so he for sure had the footage open for reference when sculpting.

The puppet has this weird cushion pattern on it that Near has no way of knowing, given it wasn't really visible when Mello was there in person. How the hell did Near know about the vest then? I think Halle described him.

"Yeah you know he always has this weird way too short biker vest or something with this weird pattern on it, I don't know how else to describe it but it's... so weird?? And the rosary and the leather in general, it's just... he's so strange."

And I headcanon Matt being at some of the meetings between Halle and Mello too. At least as a driver. So Halle 100% mentions Matt to Near like

"Mello had a buddy with him this time" "... a buddy?" "Yeah, they seemed to be friends." "What did he look like? Did you catch his name?" "No but he looked equally weird as Mello. He had these orange-tinted goggles and a super giddy looking fur vest, smoking..." "Did he have reddish-brown hair? Freckles?" "Uh. Yeah...? Yeah he did??" "Wearing stripes of some sort?" "Yeah??" "Mh. Interesting. Still glued to Mello's butt, huh?"

Near wants to make a puppet for Matt too and asks Halle to draw him, at least make a sketch. Halle can't draw shit.

(Shoutout to @mihaelkeehl for this absolute banger of a drawing of Matt!! 💜💜💜)

They ask Gevanni to make a composite sketch of Matt by Halle's description. Halle describes him very unflattering and Gevanni draws the most unsettling portrait of Matt you will ever see.

In 2.1 Mello and Matt make it out of the Takada kidnapping alive and crash at the SPK HQ for a few days. Matt noticed this drawing hanging on Near's desk and goes "WHAT POOR BASTARD IS THIS LOLOLOL" and Mello goes "Matt uhm... I think that's you" Matt is in full fanboy mode, asks if he can keep the sketch, makes Gevanni sign it for him, frames it.

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

[nikosaki]

Hello there 👋, I hope you’re having a great day

I saw that you’re open for some requests, may I request some scenario/short fic for Fyodor Dostoevsky, in a story where Fyodor and Reader (female) are childhood friends, and they both got separated for some quite long time due to some family business reasons, because of that, Reader doesn’t recognize Fyodor anymore (she still remembers him, but she forgot how his face looks like). One day, they both meet again at the moment where Fyodor got captured by Ace (the white haired mafia executive from season 3 episode 4), and reader was currently working as his subordinate, I don’t know if you’re accepting some angst with happy ending, but if you don’t, then you’re allowed to decline this request, that’s all, thank you 🙏💖

"Come with me, my angel. I will sew your wings back where they belong"

Summary: You were but a flower in the wide open to him fo back in his childhood you were the only companion he had, now Fyodor meets you again but in hands of another man, will he truly resurect you or leave you as you be?

Genre: hurt to comfort (kindaof), romance Warnings:fem reader, suicide (implied for ace), slight manipulation, follows canon events of the episode, dialogues are different, not proofread, reader collapses because of overload information

A/N: this seemed so intresting :0

Fyodor remembers it all, from the day you had first met him in a fancy doll-like attire to the day he lost you.

He remembers everything.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦

"I get to choose the type of game we play" the white-haired man says a tint of arrogance splayed on his tone, ace thought he had everything in control from his subcordiates to the hostage infront of him. He had already debated he would win.

"Go ahead" the man replies back his thick russian accent hiding an enigma. You were simply Ace`s right hand but how tired you were from this mans arrogance as if he was the king or something.

"Hm, this man seems quite intelligent i wonder if he can beat Ace, i really do hope he does" you think to urself you always remained quiet and god had somehow accepted your request

"Name! go get a stash of playing cards" Aces harsh tone cuts your thoughts off as you slightly roll your eyes and leave to get the cards. The thing you didnt know was the purple-eyed sharp gaze you may have forgotten who he was but he didnt.

"Is she another of your subcordinate?" he asks, fake curiosity in his tone. "Why yes could you not see the collar around her neck? Such a pretty face should not go to waste!" Ace mocks not knowing you were behind the door gritting your teeth.

"Sir, i have brought the items" you break their conversation bending over to hand over the stash of items "Ah finally" Ace heaves in exaustaion as if hes the one who was made to fetch them, his hand snatching the deck of cards hastily.

You couldnt care any less about the game they were playing but you could only focus on the man infront of you, beautiful amethyst eyes dark bags under them and luscious raven like hair one would mistake them for the feathers of a real crow.

Where have you seen such soft hair before?...

"Name, this is Fyodor Dostoevsky" the woman you called mother told you introducing you to the boy infront of you "Well then we will leave you two in the library while we talk about important matters.

Just like that your parents left and you approached the sickly boy crouching down to the wooden floor. "Why do you look so sickly?" you ask the boy as he only glares at you one could say, a tired glare.

"Maybe because i am sick?"

With that you and the sickly boy had interacted more talking and talking for hours, Actually you didnt even care how many hours it had been past back then. The words he uttered made it seemed endless and his topics made you less bored.

Even for fyodor, he was piqued in you, though you may looked like a mindless puppet back then, you had a mind compared to a jungle filled with wild flowers, how etheral and terrifying was something so vast and wide.

“Dear, we must go now bid farewell now” your mother’s voice rang out from the door of the warm and cozy library. “Ah farewell, dostoevsky” you stand up pushing the dust off from your white skirt. “Please, call me fyodor” fyodor quietly replies to which you only smile

“Alright, fyodor”

The next couple of days, you remembered how you had met with this young Russian boy and spent much of your time with him, he was far more interesting than any books you have read or any jewels you inspected.

You remember sitting down under the shadows of oak trees talking about the world beyond this small area of russia.

“Do you believe in immortality?” He asked “Maybe, why” she answered to his question which held thousands of answers but he who asked remained silent.

You remained silent watching the men in front of you play deck cards, apparently it was a guessing game.

“Ah” fyodors voice caught you back to the game, he had guessed the last card to your shock but the one who was most shocked was Ace but before you could react he had smashed a wine bottle on the winners head, staining red wine all over his face.

All of this shocked you as you watched ace walk out angrily and just sighed.

“That was really smart of you, Dostoevsky.” Ah- the name you first called him, you had really forgotten have you? “Was it? Well I simply memorised all of the cards imprints layer flat on the table” he remarked nonchalantly. “Simply? That’s quite impressive in my eyes though” you answered back rubbing his ravenous feather like hair with a soft towel as all the other subordinates watched from afar. “Say, what is your ability?” you ask putting his ushnanka “Well my ability allows me to control time and ability” the man answered tilting his head towards you.

He lnsists it’s his ability only for you to kneel down next to his ear, away from the pipe attached to the ceiling

“You are a liar”

Your voice softly whispers in his ears but instead of him being shocked at your intellectual guess, the man can only smirk as he replies back. “Correct, моя дорогая мышка”

Your eyes dilate in shock, the name he called you…

You remember he used to call you this same exact pet name all the time but just because your memories from your past stays on the other side of the storm that doesn’t mean you can’t see through the clouds.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦

Anxiety casted over you as your eyes meet the disastrous scene unfold infront of you. The white haired man came back but at what cost? The cost of disbelieving in god, the thought brushes over you as you stare at Ace’s hanging body and the little boys corpse.

“Both of them are dead, моя любовь” a voice corrects behind you as you instantly turn around. You stare at the so man who had defeated the port mafia executive, such a man was capable of causing such destruction.

Even so your curiosity seeped through, “Wh- no what are you…?” Your voice could have make a croak when you felt his lip bitten fingers rise your chin towards his menacing eyes.

You could only stare at the man’s eyes, how can a man be so pretty yet cruel at the same time?

“My dear [name], do you not remember the boy you talked under the skies of Moscow city?” your eyes widen.

“Fyodor? Fyodor Dostoevsky?” This was too much for you, all of the memories appearing in your head like slideshows, your head was feeling dizzy but it was him! Your friend

And before you could say anything you felt your body collapse, with your head falling on his chest not that fyodor was surprised since it went as he planned

His hands pick you up and carries your dizzy form to the boat. After that you didn’t know what happened but somehow you had woken up in a cozy bed.

“Ah моя любовь, you are awake from your slumber I see.” Fyodors calm voice calls out, a much softer and less intimidating smile on his face.

You remain silent before getting up and inspecting his face. “It’s really you..” you try to reach out for his face but hesitate for a while but he says nothing before grabbing your hand.

“[name] I will wholeheartedly explain everything to you, but firstly would you care to join in my mission of redeeming the worlds pure form?” He takes your hand gently and brings it to his lips, looking at you adoringly.

“That means murder and violence am I right, Fyodor?” You ask still captivated by his beauty. “You are quite witty after all” he chuckles to himself

you move away your hand move closer to him before cupping his face and locking your forehead with his, which caught fyodor off guard.

“Yes, yes I will fedya. Anything to be back with you again but this time don’t leave me…please” “of course I won’t, моя дорогая мышка”

a/n: OH MG I AM SO SORRY ANON THIS TOOK SOO LONG

divider: @hyelitas

[cryptic-loser]

Robbie stop posting about your OC x Canon ship for the deadest fandom ever challenge [IMPOSSIBLE!!]

Anyways uhmmmm yeah :3

The note got put on the ✨️wifey wall✨️

... Also that soup got fucking devoured-

Headcanon that Riley forgets to eat alot, and Kelly brings her food and then skedaddles before Mortimer notices- 😭

Anyways uh. Redemption AU post soon!! 👍

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

[hamsamwich23]

I've talked about what would happen if Judgment/Unreality Mortimer met Canon Mortimer but like

What about

What would happen if Unreality Scout met Canon Scout

(notes in tags)

[paper-starz]

WELCOME HOME THEORIES(+ Observations)

I CANNOT BELIEVE IT

after so many hours, days, months.... ITS BACK!

And now, after careful observations, I present to you fine fellows a few theories and observations. THIS WILL BE VERY LONG AND IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE UPDATE!!

OK to start off, lets debunk a theory thats been bugging me: THE WELCOME HOME NEIGHBORS ARE DEAD THEORY!

yeah.... has been debunked. Look no further than the guestbook! PG 2 SPECIFICALLY!

Image reads: idonotknowwhatclownis_iaskedfrank_hesaidbarnaby_hereisbarnaby.png

So, Wally was able to ask Frank what a clown was during the time of this ask, therefore, none of the puppets are dead (yet)

"But Paperstar!" I hear you cry. "The neighborhood descriptions were in past tense, while Wally's and Home's neighborhood descriptions were in present tense!"

And for that, I have a simple answer: The puppets aren't aware. Since they aren't aware, they still think that they are living during the 70s. To us, the 70s have already past! And since Wally and Home are aware that they aren't living in the 70s anymore, they use present tense. NOW ONTO THEORY NUMBER 1

THE RED BOOKS THEORY

As we all know, when we look into the website, doodles (presumably made by Wally) are littering the website and sending us into secret links!

While these doodles are fun, creepy, and cool to look at... have we ever stopped and wondered how exactly Wally is doodling onto the website?

By doodling onto a book.

Throughout the website, we see few instances of Wally doodling. Where was he doodling on specifically?

On a red book. But I can take it FURTHER.

I believe the book that Wally is doodling on is THIS ONE

A RED BOOK WITH SWIRLS AND AN EYE.

All 3 things connected to Wally. (Lord knows Wally loves drawing swirls and eyes, especially in this update) "But PAPER!!!" I hear you scream. "THIS BOOK IS IN REALITY! HOW CAN WALLY GET THIS BOOK IF HE'S STUCK IN WELCOME HOME?" Ah, patience, dear viewer! This is called the Red BOOKS theory, not the Red BOOK theory. It's simple, there's two books, one in Welcome Home, and one IRL. As above, so below

Whatever happens above, also happens below!

And it seems like the Question Answerer is in possession of this book as well.

Which brings me to my next theory!

THERE ARE TWO PEOPLE HACKING INTO THE WEBSITE

Specifically Wally (pretty much confirmed) and the Question Answerer.

If the Red Books theory is (hypothetically) true then the IRL book SHOULD be able to doodle onto the site as well! But how do we know this?

Pay close attention to these doodles of Barnaby. Notice one that's... Different from the others?

YES YOU ARE CORRECT, VIEWER! THE RIGHT ONE IS DIFFERENT!

As you see, the right one is scraggly, rushed, not coloring in the lines at all!

BUT WAIT THERES MORE!

Yeah, so it appears to me that Wally draws neater, while the 2nd doodler seems to draw messier and they don't even color the full drawing in most of the time! (For all I know this info could be vice versa. With Wally being the messier drawer and the 2nd doodler being neater.) BUTTTTTT IF YOU WEREN'T CONVINCED OF THESE DOODLES, I HAVE MORE EVIDENCE TO PROVE MY THEORY OF TOO DOODLERS

WALLY CANONICALLY CANNOT DRAW HEARTS (<- Click for proof)

And yet, there are hearts littered not only in the Guest Book page, but all across the website as well. And unless Eddie is helping Wally draw hearts every time he needs to draw one, then I doubt that Wally is the one doodling these hearts.

And for the last piece of evidence saying that there IS a second person, look no further than the HANDWRITING.

Say it with me kids! "One of these things is not like the other!"

ITS THE MIDDLE ONE! YES THE MIDDLE "hello"

It's all lowercase, while Wally usually writes in all UPPERCASE, and in red.

Even his signature supports this statement as well!

Therefore, dear viewers, I believe we need to pay closer attention to the doodles. Who is the one ACTUALLY writing to us?

[circeyoru]

Hello you amazeing writer!! I'm here and for starters, I just wana say HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR WRITEING HDHDGDGDG

*Cough cough* Anyways...I am here to add a sprinkle of angst, cause it feeds my blood-lust /j

I remember reading a non-canon version of your "Unwanted soul" fic, where the reader gets redemed (like Sir Pantious) and at the end, they het back to hell while keeping some of the angelic fetures (like the wings) and Alastor ripped them off, ignoreing readers crys (sience now he wasn't under contract).

I was wondering...what if, after all that, reader woldn't actulay fully forget Alastor? Personaly, I really REALLY hate feeling any kind of pain, even if it's as small as a paper-cut, so what if reader gets so upset over all that that they ignore Alastor and just start feeling mode down than usual?

Other than that, I HOPE U HAVE AN AMAZIENG DAY/NIGHT!! HOPE I DIDN'T BOTHER MUCH :3

HAD A STRESSFUL DAY! BUT I'M HERE TO DESTRESS!! NO BOTHER AT ALL!! Okay, back to normal.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}. The specific mentioned ask is this, so give them a read before this.

The angst is back. Prepare yourself, really, I mean it...

Yes. Reader/you will and do shut down after the stunt Alastor pulls. It's similar to the state you were in before your suicide on Earth. But! Alastor's keeping an eye out for everything and anything you do so you don't get the chance to plan your third death.

Needless to say, you regret coming back because Alastor was and is beyond your control. If you had his soul, you'd destroy it. Alastor knows, that's why he's not offering it anymore. He did consider it, but the way you were unresponsive to him, he trashes the idea.

You don't talk to him, you don't listen to him, you don't look at him, and you don't acknowledge him. You know, any form of reaction and attention you give him, be it good or bad, he'll take it all with gratitude, and you're not giving him that pleasure. Not what you went through because of him.

Alastor does everything to coax you into looking at him again, he knows he can't threaten you because that's what you want. If he was angered enough to kill you or attempt to do so, you win and he'll be left with nothing. No more you. He can't let that happen. He tried returning with wounds or accidentally harming himself while making your meals. No reaction.

He asks you what he did wrong, what can he do for you to at least go back to the way you were. He didn't like how you were like a doll or a broken puppet. It was so agonizing to see you like this, even worse when the reason was him. You didn't even touch the anime and books he brought for you, not even the phone, or tablet, or laptop. Nothing.

After a long long while, you made up your mind. A plan brewed. One that will give you your eternal sleep.

"I want a feast with my favourites." You spoke so softly one day. Yet Alastor heard it loud and clear, he nodded, it has been forever since he heard your voice. The last was when you were begging him not to rip off your wings and halo that took you away from him. He got to work, saying he'll be back soon and asked for your patience.

Patience. You've given him too much. Your eyes burned with fury when his presence left the apartment and your home domain. You took your blank notebooks, summoning angelic weapons one after another around your bed. The angelic steel stacked up as did your exhaustion. Your eyesight blurry and your body heavy. Just a little more and you'll sleep. The feeling was so similar to when you embraced death the first time. Then you fell asleep. Forever.

When Alastor returned, he was terrified to find you surrounded by angelic steel. His mind didn't register that you were the one to summon them, like the time you saved him all those years ago. He only rushed forward to you, ignoring all the wounds on his legs as he walked pass the deadly material. He tried shaking you awake. You're eyes didn't open, your body was cold. Heartbeat? It was so weak.

He shouted for you to wake up. He pleaded and begged. He apologized. He was wrong. He was all wrong. It was all his fault. Just wake up. Please! He needs you! He can't live without you! You can't abandon him again! Not again! Please!

Before, in the canon of my story, you woke up because Lucifer told Alastor what to do. But here, he never knew about your relationship with Lucifer, nor would Lucifer tell him how to wake you up. Lucifer watched from afar as you slowly died from your powers that drained your very soul. Saving you wasn't an option, he said he'd respect your choice and won't question them. He's keeping it, he's your friend. When you were going on with your plan, you too realized that the only true friend you had was Lucifer.

You can't handle Alastor, you shouldn't have thought you could. You shouldn't have accepted Alastor.

You shouldn't have saved him that day.

Alastor deserves to suffer while you enter your eternal slumber.