#like yes its mostly just puppet animation

[acesammy]

i am once again thinking about team s.c.i.e.n.c.e and how fucking impressive it is... WHEN did he have the tiiime

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 1 | Tamlin x Oc

◇— Chapter 1 - The Green Handkerchief

Ch. Warnings: implied sexual harassment, implied animal cruelty (I swear not by any mc), things get extreme in Hybern ok, Hybern as a place should be a warning on its own :^

✧ masterlist

||◇|| Ch.2>>

Hybern Castle — Two years after the Treaty

Another party. Another night of standing beside his chair on the dais, overlooking the crowd of Hybern officials as they partied, their faces a mask of joyful expressions, their bodies too rigid as they moved about the floor like puppets under their marionette's gaze.

“Incredibly uneventful.” I hear Brannagh whisper beside me. Her twin mimics her dead expression beside her. Guess I'm not the only one who thinks so.

“Quiet. Don't slouch or he will punish us again.” I scold through gritted teeth and feel their posture shift at the command. “Just until past midnight and we are dismissed.”

I feel them sigh in unison before stepping off the dais to stand in some corner away from the throne, away from where the King might see them. Yet I stay still, unmoving despite my legs and neck beginning to sore at the lack of movement.

Just until past midnight.

The ball went on as usual, the music getting louder with each hour while the dance floor remained filled with rigid dancers. Wine continued to flow and stomachs filled and this party seemed to go on for an eternity.

I hear the King's laughter echoing throughout the room, followed by several others as they clash glasses and exchange vulgarities. Mainly discussing political and military matters that did not need a child's attention but I listened in anyway. Nothing eventful. The King would find a way to spin the subject towards his hatred for humankind to which his circle were more than happy to indulge him in.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask a servant tripping over a lady's gown, echoes of breaking glass did not do as much as startle the dancers but their nervous eyes dart to where the servant was dragged to the kitchens, crying and spilling his apologies, his voice muffled as the door closed and then– nothing.

The dancing and laughter did not stop.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask, the twins gossiping amongst themselves in quiet solitude. They spot me from all the way over here with pleading eyes, I want to leave. But I only shook my head and they already knew my answer. Not until we are dismissed. And with that, they continued to sulk.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask… Amarantha. With her wavy locks of red hair and a dark dress that outshined every other lady in the room. As always, heads turned as she walked, whether or not it was out of respect or admiration or fear, they turned their heads and I knew she basked in the attention.

Before I could roll my eyes and turn the other way I spotted— green amidst a sea of dull colours. Amarantha makes her way to a boy.. strikingly close to my age. His hair was gold in colour. Gold like I've never seen before. It is a rare thing. Hybernians mostly have dark hair but there is the occasional rarity born with red locks.

Right. The King has once again invited a Prythian Lord, our closest ally from the neighbouring island. The High Lord sits with him now in his circle of friends, bearing the same golden hair as the boy Amarantha’s currently harassing. I felt unease as her hand brushes against his shoulder, how he'd shiver and say words I could not hear. Stop, maybe. Most likely. Because she always does this. To him especially, none of the other brothers are treated that way, much less spared a glance by her.

“Niamh.” His voice jolts me from my thoughts and I almost flinch to his direction. “More wine, dove.” The King orders, slouching in his seat.

“Yes, my King.” I turn to one of the servants ready at my command. “Three more bottles of Crimson Oathe. And tell the others to fetch a dozen more from the cellar. We'll be here for quite a while.” Seeing as they're already drunk and craving for more.

The servant came back in a flash with what I requested and I hurried to the King and his little circle of friends. “Pour.” He orders simply and I could feel his friends’ gaze in my direction. I do as I'm told, pouring scarlet liquid onto everyone's golden goblets before pacing three steps away, standing straight with the bottle still in my hands.

They continue their conversations and I stand there until I am dismissed. It is the rule. I cannot walk away from him unless I am told so. Sometimes I thank the Mother for the mask on my face, hiding the discomfort in my expression. I never liked being too close to his circle. Do my best to avoid them, really. His group mainly consists of highborn Lords of Hybern, however few they might be, and military officials that control his armies.

I stay there with my head down, listening to their horrid conversations, unable to mute out their loud voices.

Then I felt it. Felt it before it could even touch me— the hand of an older fae hovering up my arm that I felt all the hairs on my body stand.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go—

I grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, earning a grunt of pain from the older male. The conversation ceased around the King's circle and all eyes were on me and the death grip that was my small hand around his bedazzled wrist.

“If. You could refrain. From touching me. Good sir.” I do not look at him. I do not do as much as move. I cannot. I might kill him.

“My hand! My hand!!” He cries out. I feel his pulse on my skin, the blood desperately flowing in his wretched veins. I felt my nails digging into flesh, scratching against skin and drawing blood. I smelled it, rotten and unsweet.

“My King!” He looks to the King, hoping to find his aid.

But he only looked, a simple grin on his face as he watched red seep out of his wrists, tainting my own skin. “Niamh. Drop the poor thing's hand.” I hear a chuckle leave his throat. Being used to following his orders— I do just that.

“Careful with this one, Lord Galdiir. She is.. a fascinating one. She will not hesitate to feast on your bones right at this very table. Perhaps then we'll have a real show.” The King laughs once more and other people follow. He snatches the wine bottle out of my hands, his eyes wandering to the blood that smeared my palm. And even with the mask I spot his smile curling into a smirk.

“And next time I hope you'd be wise enough to remember not to touch something that is not yours. I will have your head ripped from your shoulders if you ever touch her again.” He threatened and the circle went quiet.

“Now.” He doesn't face me, only flicks his wrist. “Go.”

And so I left that corner of the room, my left hand shaking, the smell of blood that isn't mine violating my nose. I did not return to the dais and as I passed guests I saw a glimpse of the twins’ face, riddled with worry. Yet they do not follow me.

The music and chatter from the ballroom faded as I now find myself in the empty terrace just outside. I let myself breathe in air that I couldn't find inside that wretched room. Yet, not even fresh air could calm me down. Couldn't really call it fresh as there's always a rotting smell that came with it.

Because this place is rotten. Void of light, life, anything, really. It is a cage.

The terrace overlooked a large garden of shaped trees and bushes that formed a maze. I'm glad for the night's darkness as I knew the dead colour of the leaves in morning light would only sour my mood. At least the sky looks peaceful. Though, I wish the fog would show more stars. I could not even see the moon, only a blur of reddish white light.

I look down at my hands, dark crimson taint the my palm. I press my fingers to it, feeling it sticky and warm and vile. Then my touch lowers down to the golden cuffs etched on my skin, smudging red on it.

I urge to curse, to rip this stupid mask off my face and storm to my room. More often than not, I think about it. But I know the consequences of leaving the King's presence without permission. And so I suck it up and inhale the rotten air, rubbing my bloodied palm, willing myself to believe that midnight would come soon and I could return to my room.

But I sense a presence approach, quiet footsteps make their way to the terrace. Then the intruder stops, standing at a good distance from me.

I froze and thought that if I turned around and left it'd be considered rude. So I shift uncomfortably, looking to the side and to my hands below, glad for the mask on my face for once. But when I caught a glimpse of gold at the corner of my eye, I was forced to look to to the person who had interrupted my solitude.

It's him.., the youngest son of Spring.

He dons on green fabrics, golden accents throughout his outfit that matched his long locks that cascaded down his shoulders. He smells like flowers and morning after a storm. His gaze is fixed to the garden forward and I wonder if he felt my gaze on him.

“Good evening.” He says, his voice quiet and soft and nice.

I snapped out of my thoughts and did a subtle curtsy to the young Lord. “Good evening.” I was told to treat our guests from Prythian with the warmest welcome and yet I forgot to greet him first or address him by his name.

“Forgive me, I was simply–”

“In need of some quiet?”

“I've been in search of it all night.” He said, his gaze torn away from me again. There is a stiffness on his shoulders, a longing for home in his eyes. He does not wish to be here any longer. And neither do I.

“It was beginning to feel suffocating. In there. With all the tense dancing.”

I slightly turn to face him again.

“Sorry. I meant no insult. It's a nice party.” A nice attempt at a lie.

“No.” I hesitate. But no one else is here. No one to hear me speak ill. “It is not.”

I hear a pause, a flicker of surprise maybe. That someone actually has a mind of their own around here. “It is not.” He repeats and maybe I heard a smile in his words, a quiet relief that someone understands.

“Perhaps we could enjoy the silence together?”

I look at him again, my face betraying the look of surprise at his suggestion. I did not say anything when I looked away from him.

But I stayed. And quiet company has never been so peaceful.

My shoulders relaxed as the minutes passed us by quietly. I could still hear the music in the throne room, the sounds of the King's laughter and the clink of glasses. In the stillness of the night, away from the noise and commotion of the party, the gardens below lay silent, and the only sound to break it was the gentle breeze rustling the leaves of trees.

And for a brief moment, I felt respite. I don't know why. Maybe because of the silence. Maybe it is because of him and his very presence that brought a calmness that I didn't know existed. The air seemed more bearable in his presence and for the first time tonight my heart was at peace.

My eyes faltered ever so slightly as I fiddled with my palm, the blood now cold on my skin.

I never want to go back inside.

“I'm sorry that that male has made you uncomfortable.” He quietly said as I felt him extend an arm to me. So I looked and he handed me something..

A green handkerchief.

I stared at it for a good while, confused as to why I am being given such a present. Then I realised that my bloodied hand was still visible and he had seen my outburst earlier.

I take the handkerchief slowly, inspecting it as if it were a strange thing. And it was strange, this kind gesture. I felt my lips curl up into a soft smile.

I began wiping the blood off my palms, smudging red onto the green fabric. “I'm sorry, too.” I mutter.

“About what?”

“About Amarantha.”

He goes silent and looks away in discomfort. “She always does this.”

“I know.” I continue to wipe, fighting the urge to scoff at the mere thought of that female. “She does not take kindly to ‘no’.”

I hear no reply. As I finished wiping the blood off my hand and cuff I looked at the fabric sullied in crimson. “Thank you..,” I trail off, forgetting his name despite going through the guest list just hours before the party.

“Tamlin.”

“Tamlin..” I finish wiping off the blood and I hand him back his handkerchief, completely facing him this time, letting myself see his face through the tiny holes of my mask. “Prince of Spring.”

He only seems to look towards the cloth in my hand. “Forgive me but I do not know your name either..”

“Niamh.”

“Miss Niamh..”

I nod my head and offer him back his handkerchief. He looks at it for a moment.

“Keep it.” He said, reaching for my hand with both his, closing my fist around the piece of cloth. A gift.

I was taken aback for a mere second. I've never been given a gift before. Never had much to say thank yous to. Never had to be grateful. A very foreign and yet.. welcome feeling.

He closed my fist and my eyes failed to remain averted. I look back to his face to see emerald eyes looking back at me. An expression of gentleness that couldn't be found in the eyes of Hybernians. I wonder if there are more like him back on the land he hails from. More people with genuine smiles and golden hair. I wonder if he deems the garden before us a pathetic piece of land compared to the endless fields of flowers back at his court. And maybe if I look into his eyes long enough I could see a glimpse of what that may look like.

I felt myself lost in them. Because I’ve never really seen green like that. Green that swirls with other colours of the earth. Strange and pretty. Even Hybernian trees are of lifeless colours. So I couldn't help but let my gaze linger for a moment longer.

“I cannot–” I gasped.

I flinched, my back arching slightly, the words stolen from my throat.

'What–?'

I grip my neck as I felt something pierce through my back, to the centre of my chest. Like a sword, a needle—No. A spark. Like lighting from the calmest of storms—struck me, right through the heart.

I staggered backwards and I stared at him like he might've inflicted such pain on me, the mask I wore hiding the horror on my face. But when I looked at him again, my heart beat so strongly against my rib cage I thought it might've broken out of it. Every bone in my body seemed to falter into brittle stones as if every part of me was faltering then and there. I wanted to touch him, grab his hand and take him away–

“Miss N–” He reaches out to me, his face riddled with concern. But before he could touch me again I gathered every bit of my common sense and— disappeared.

I panicked and winnowed away, appearing in my room disoriented from the sudden shift of my surroundings, as if I hadn't winnowed all of me, my back hitting against a table as I breathed heavily. I fall to the floor and grip my throat, desperate to stabilise my breathing before letting that hand fall to my chest where I could very much feel the beating of my heart. I still feel it. The spark. Like it's sentient, living inside me, telling me to go back to him.

The thrill of that spark dies inside me when realisation sank, replaced with nothing but dread and fear as I recall back to the books I've read on the matter. The romantic, forbidden tales of fated mates. Libraries are a rare thing in Hybern, the King deeming it worthless to record our histories when he alone exists to remind every single soul in the island just how we were robbed of everything in the Treaty that happened just two years ago. He does not care much for stories outside of those that he only thought mattered. Education of the most basic things are not encouraged, instead he favours military training, condemning all fae, high or lesser, young or old, to be trained ruthlessly into military submission.

Father thought the concept interesting albeit useless. Brannagh thought it a curse. Dagnan doubts its existence. How the Mother bonds two souls together on a whim, on a baseless calculation that the two might work well together. And now she dares pair me up with the youngest son of Spring. Someone so different. So out of reach. So out of my league.

Someone I can never ever have.

She dares play cruel jokes on me. Or perhaps she is simply cruel. That would make more sense. She’s always been cruel when dealing with my fate in her hands.

I did not return to the party. I lay in bed awake that night, my head filled with nothing but images of his face. There wasn't a moment where I wandered to other thoughts, afraid that if I did I couldn't burn his face into memory hard enough. And a hundred years may pass and I might forget his face. The thought alone broke my heart.

The bond didn't seem to snap for him and I could only sigh out of relief. Good. It's for the best. I know well what happens to the things that bring even the smallest amounts of joy into people around here. He takes them, breaks them, ruins them in the cruellest of ways and he makes sure there is an audience to bear witness to his acts. I still remember how her growls of pain echoed throughout the throne room while my body froze, my eyes locked into the eyes of a direwolf I had secretly snuck into the palace. I stood and cried as she whimpered, the light, the life fading from her darkened eyes, her head rolling to my feet as I tried my best to hold the vomit urging up my throat.

The King does not like hope festering the hearts of his people. Says that hope makes way for want. A want for something other than what he has to offer. He seeks only for total control. That is why every waltz at his parties are always rigid, always controlled. He liked it that way. Liked puppets more than people.

He would ruin me in ways that will kill me slowly if he ever finds out. Because I was born into a life of servitude. Everything, even my body and mind, leashed to the King. And this bond swirling inside me, this string of fate.. He will take it too.

And so I held my aching heart as I closed my eyes. And in the darkness it's not a wolf’s head before my feet that I imagine.

It’s his..

I will take this bond to the grave.

[astral-realities]

Hello again! New questions bc im really curious! How much do you all identify with your puppets and their appearances? Are they more of a tool for you or are they significant for your sense of self? I've noticed that your appearances somewhat reflect your personalities, was this a design choice made by your architects or have you been adjusting looks along the way by yourselves? (I know Habitually Stargazing did a little, the dress looks really pretty on you btw!) Im particularily fascinated by the antennas! Im guessing you don't use them much having a hard-wire connection to the rest of your superstructures, right? (perhaps they would be more practical when communicating with visitors in your chambers? I don't know..) Im seeing a sort of analogy between animal motifs in ancient art and masks and those retro-looking antenna resembling those used with older technology, though I might be wrong.. I'd be thrilled to know whether these hold any cultural / traditional signifincance among machines alike!

Also I'd love to know more about your serial numbers! What do they mean, and do you more identify with them or with your names?

Finally, Flowers - a creature for you

It's an umbrella slug, hiding under it's umbrella!

Hope you all have a wonderfull day, looking forward to hear from you!

SDA: Oh! While the exact details might vary from case to case, I would say that it's a bit of both - the puppet is a tool tied to an iterator's sense of self.

SDA: The puppet is only a small part of yourself, but it represents you as a whole. You .. used it to communicate with your citizens, you use it to communicate with your peers. Others start to see *you* in this form. The more you use it, the more you begin to identify with it. With time, its image truly becomes yours.

SDA: From our creators' perspective, it might have been a matter of needing an interface to interact with us. It seemed to be more natural to speak with something that you can actually look in the face.

SDA: Another important fact is that the puppet is by far the most expressive part of our bodies. Our biological elements can be somewhat controlled by our programming, but it cannot fully override them - there will always be a living, sentient being deep below.

SDA: One that has its own emotions, preferences, opinions; one that wants to express itself. The puppet serves as an outlet for that. It can gesticulate, it allows you to convey how you feel in a way that's understandable to most.

TFB: It would've probably been easier for them if we couldn't think for ourselves. Just tell us what to do and we do it until the end of time, no questions asked.

TFB: Instead, they chose to fully depend on something with an *attitude*! Some really tried their best to keep good relations with their iterator, afraid of putting it in a bad mood...

SDA: Yes, I suppose...

SDA: Some of us might pay greater attention to the puppet's appearance, adjusting it to our own tastes, mostly with clothes and accessories. Fashion was important in our creators' culture, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for an iterator to request a new robe or a necklace. Some took matters into their own hands.

SDA: ... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on like this.

BROS: Don't you dare, it's always nice hearing you so passionate about something~

BROS: About the antennae - you're right, they're not as powerful as the equipment in the rest of the structure! They're decent for close-range stuff, and they're what you'd resort to in case of an emergency.

BROS: Like, somehow losing access to the rest of your body. The puppet can't do much on its own, but thanks to these, it would be able to communicate with anything near it.

BROS: Aaand they were mostly another way for the architect to visualize whatever concept they had for a puppet.

HS: I'm almost offended by the "retro" remark. As far as I'm concerned, these are state-of-the-art.

BROS: Sure, sure~

BROS: Finally, as for the model numbers. They represent the architect's name, the cycle when the project was officially completed, and the name of the project at that time, like this:

BROS: Nobody really identifies with this, it's mostly used in paperwork - maybe some database stuff. Even if two iterators were given the same name, it's extremely unlikely they also had the same creator *and* creation date, so it allows for telling us apart that way.

HS: The name that appears in your model number isn't truly binding either. Such as...

TFB: Come on now, don't put them on the spot like that.

SDA: ...

SDA: It's fine...

SDA: Originally, I was called "Visions of Serenity", you'll see me in databases as GTIAOT672005VOS.

SDA: I was renamed shortly after, due to some... rather unfortunate coincidence.

SDA: It really doesn't matter now.

---

TFB: Also, thank you so much!! I don't get to see many marine species around these parts, this is lovely!

HS: (...and thank you...)

[abavo]

My thoughts on the new LMK season

With no (or at least very minor) spoilers

TLDR: Its easy to focus on the drop in quality of the visuals since we can't focus too much on the other aspects of the series due to the language barrier, the english fandom will likely start having a more positive reaction to the season when the eng version drops and we can focus on character interaction and story.

RIP The YT channel hosting the episodes I will edit this post if it comes back up or someone reuploads them.

I'm probably gonna talk about the animation the most as I'll have to wait for the eng version to come out before I can talk too much about the story.

Also all of this is my opinion if you don't agree that's fine, make your own post with your thoughts.

Like most people, I don't really like the new animation, which sucks because WB is capable of good animation (some really good animation) but because LMK wasn't designed for puppet animation and WB was likely pushed to get this season out, the quality suffered. Some of the animation looks pretty good but a lot of it is stunted and some characters look out of place. It also doesn't help that a lot of older animation was reused (for flashbacks and such) which makes it a lot harder to adapt to the new animation style.

I'm not one to notice mistakes in animation so I wasn't taken out of the experience every time a character is off model but if you are you might have a hard time watching it.

The 3D models are also especially rough this season, there's one that keeps appearing (likely due to a tie in set) but it looks bad and it's really jarring

But I think "give workers more time to create higher quality products" is like, the coldest take in the world and I think most people wish FB had stayed or a studio that works with hand drawn animation was picked as a replacement. I think WB can do some great stuff and if they animate the next season I'm sure it will look better and I hope that lego will give the studio more time to work to achieve that polished look.

Pacing is a potential problem I'm noticing as well. I feel like some characters show up for like a minute and then disappear which is fine for some cameos of fan favorites but its frustrating when new characters that showed up in the trailer barely had any screen time (it really sucks because some of them are really cool looking! and I wanted to see more of them)

I can't talk too much about characterization but there are some things that definitely feel out of character, most notably something that happens towards the end of episode 1, I've seen some people refer to this as fandomization of the character but I'd need to wait for the eng version to come out before I can say yes to that. I think it's much more likely they just needed that character to do something and figured it could be a way to show how that character has changed although I do think it needed more buildup maybe that will change when I actually understand what's happening though lol.

Other than that I think the characterization is mostly intact (again will need to see the eng version) but its the same writers so I don't see why characters would act strange. There does appear to be some super interesting stuff that happens towards the end can't wait to figure out what thats about.

Plot is hard to follow (again language barrier) but seems fun if a little generic, I can't talk too much about it because I don't really know whats going on and this is spoiler free

New characters seem fun! Wish I knew what they were saying though! I wish some of them stuck around a little bit longer as some of them are only shown for a few minutes which again sucks! because some of them have really cool designs and I would have liked to see more of them.

[rakubalka]

Honestly, its so...interesting Tsuna's position

He is valuable pawn, so its not like 'Evil Organization wants the protag dead'

He is a puppet king in a guilded cage

But they also want other people to die for Tsuna, its weird

Reborn literally send the fake Guardians like lambs to slaughter against the Varia

Less valuable pawns into Vongola's

They don't want the protagonist dead or the protag is a monster

The protag is a puppet king they want control, caged, trapped

Ichigo, Naruto, Luffy are similar ro each bother

If anything Tsuna is more like Harry Potter

KHR is different for anime

Pity its not more famous

Yes I agree

And really Tsuna is a subversion of a lot of tropes we see even today

He isn't a selfless hero , because he is quite selfish

He doesn't accept people in his group no matter the danger it might pose , he actively tried to get people out of his group because of the danger it cause

He doesn't lack potential and has trained hard for all this power , Tsuna was born with incredible potential that was sealed and it's now finally starting to unseal little by little so any sudden power up dosent feel as cheap not to mention that even and if he has new power he still mostly dosent know how to use them so he has to learn in active combat like the rest of his fighting style

Tsuna is just so different from most protagonists in general not just in shounen . But more so than anything he is the assists of other shounen protagonist

[ilikekidsshows]

wait where did astruc say that stuff about sailor moon now 😭 is that like a recent thing or??

---

There's a new interview out, or there's a proper translation for an older one, because I’d heard some of the stuff in it before, but Astruc could also just be repeating himself. The interview is for Astruc’s ego stroking, since he mostly spends it playing the pass the blame game for his contested writing decisions and trying to sound wise and experienced by pretending he’s seen critically acclaimed shows he actually hasn't. He also tries to hype people up for Miraculous being this never-ending show that just goes on and on by claiming he has only told 5% of the story he has planned. I’m just wondering, if he has so many story ideas, why didn't season 4 have a proper story and spent all its runtime setting up season 5 instead? He also claims season 7 will make you rethink season 6, which makes me think it's gonna be another season 4 where nothing actually happens despite this show being supposedly fully serialized now. Or they're going to make some more blatant retcons and pretend they're surprising and totally set up plot twists instead.

A lot of people are freaking out about Astruc saying there's enough of this sloppily-told story to last us twelve seasons, but I’m cringing at his claims that they have Gabriel and André’s backstories all figured out and they’d like to dig into that some more while giving André a redemption arc. He was really into the idea of an André redemption arc, because, as he puts it, André actually wants to change unlike Chloé, who Astruc really totally wanted to redeem, you guys, but she told him no :( 

I’m serious, by the way; he literally claims he wanted to redeem Chloé and gave her every chance to change her ways but she just wouldn't, because real people in her position wouldn't and they value realism oh-so-much, which is why Marinette can install a one-way mirror in the girls' bathroom at her school and not get a felony charge. He loves to act like he isn't the puppeteer holding the strings. I can hardly wait for some retroactive justification for how these rich, middle-aged white men’s abuse and neglect of their children is okay. The show didn't have enough abuse apologia in it yet! :D

Like, I expect writers to lie about how great their writing is, they're trying to sell you a product of said writing after all. I just think, if he's gonna claim he’s doing something new and unique, he should actually check the media he claims his show is related to. Every time he makes statements about shows, movies or comics, he makes it obvious that he doesn't actually know anything a person who’d seen them would know about them. Like, yes, Sailor Moon is the core Scout, but any decisions the Sailor Scouts make are made together or Luna gives them orders. Usagi is not the standard type leader Astruc makes it sound like she is when he says his Sailor Moon -like Miraculous AU would have Marinette “lead her own hero team”. Although I’d be interested in an AU where Marinette actually cares about what others think, Astruc has made it clear that's not what he's interested in, so his description of Sailor Moon is already incorrect before he says this version of Miraculous also wouldn't have a love story, because I guess he thinks the “Tuxedo Mask is useless” memes are the actual canon or something, which just proves that he hasn't seen the show, since from the first episode onward, Tuxedo Mask is an important, helpful ally to Sailor Moon. Just because he doesn't have flashy magic attacks in the first anime doesn't mean he doesn't contribute important insight or distractions or isn't actually physically capable.

Basically, Astruc can't say two sentences about a piece of media without all of it being incorrect. He's gotten way too comfortable thinking nobody in this fandom reads or watches anything not Miraculous-related, probably because, in all these years, the fandom at large hasn’t discovered that Marinette is clearly just Nikki Maxwell with superpowers all the way down to her character design. When you get away with plagiarism, it tends to make you cocky.

[starmonsterrr]

Introducing: Undertale self-insert #102480125 (Version 1.0)

HELLO HELLO SO I KNOW I HAVE TO CATCH UP WITH INKTOBERTALE BUT SHUSH I NEED TO INTRODUCE IO'S "CREATOR" COUNTERPART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you haven't already read the introduction post of my primary Undertale 'sona' i advice you to do so. here's the link to it

DRRRRRRRRRUMMMROLLLLLLL

NOTE: THE REF NEEDS TO BE UPDATED

THIS THANG TOOK LIKE FOREVER TO FIGURE OUT BUT NOW I AM FREE FROM THE PAIN

Now it's time to explain the physics of this hhh

Aurum doesn't live inside the UTMV, but rather, exists as a creator for it, and lives in the fandom itself. That "fandom" location functions as a realm that allows for creativity from beings living in our world to brew and develop further to then take form in the UTMV itself, and is also where Creators can interact with eachother, no matter the distance.

Aurum cannot interact directly with the UTMV, but, due to being a Creator, is able to craft things and characters that live within it.

To do this, she requires a quill that it takes with itself wherever it goes. It functions as an outlet for her creative abilities.

I've also been thinking of the possibility of its soul being that quill, due to how tightly Aurum is connected to her creativity, but it might take me a bit to figure out the specifics for that.

In addition to creativity, Aurum is also able to spectate the works of other Creators, and of course, interact with said fellow Creators, but it can take her a bit to get out of it's shell.

Aurum tends to add quite an amount of detail to its work. While it has tried various artistic outlets, the one in which she excels the most is drawing, animation and writing, especially the earlier 2, as those are the hobbies it has been practicing since it has memory.

It also happens to be quite the extra-clever being. (extra clever earthbound spirit ghost in the form-)

It struggles with issues from a past fandom she used to mostly create for, and is trying to recover by 'pushing away shame', as it would word it. It also appears to have a particular dislike of what is known as cringe culture.

That scarf it wears? Just as the ref sheet says, it provides safety, but it also helps somewhat at covering up her neck scar that comes from a far older thing that happened. The scar may sometimes bleed when Aurum feels unsafe or as if it has 'slipped up creatively'.

Some bonus trivia:

Aurum's blood is gold! I made it like that because i myself have RH Null blood, which is also known as the....golden blood type.

It's design is inspired by the silver fox because I just recently found out it is one of my kintypes. And also because i have a tendency to represent myself online as a fox.

And the 'draconic' stuff? Dragon kintype, though that is covered by Io.

Speaking of, Aurum is the being that puppeteers Io.

INK FANGIRL INK FANGIRL INK FANGIRL

To add on the thing from above, this thing collects Ink images to survive.

probably has a little room full of simpy stuff

it's like a dragon hoard maybe

Aurum is meant to be in the autistic spectrum, as i myself am autistic!

I got the name Aurum from "Au", which is the periodic table of elements's symbol for gold. And y'know.... AUs! Aurum is a Creator! Doesn't that tie together nicely?

Yes, the scarf that it's wearing is a recreation of Ink's scarf.

Aurum first started as an arctic fox but then started getting covered in ink over time from drawing and drawing and drawing a lot, so it's basically identical to an actual silver fox.

Aurum sometimes stands on 2 legs, usually when interacting with other Creators.

I believe that's all i can think of right now, now off i go to catch up with Inktobertale. I may also do asks for Aurum when i take breaks! (AND I JUST REMEMBERED I MADE A SIDE BLOG TO RP AS IO HHHHH I GOTTA GET IT READY)

Later on i'll make a masterpost with the links to both Io and Aurum's posts

[dr-acula121]

Naturae Ferox Chapter 3

Summary:

Caught up in the manipulation and seduction of a certain vampire, Fen struggles with her own sense of control and autonomy, all whilst struggling to hide her own secrets.

A druid without connection. A Chosen without faith. Rage without control.

Pairing: Astarion x Female OC

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Non-con, Slavery, Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, Blood drinking, Masturbation

Chapter 3: Blasphemy

Fen had of course been told the many twisted stories of the undead - their unnatural existence a mockery to Sivanus' balance. Flesh in limbo - life denied from nature's cycle. Stories of animated corpses and ghouls puppetted by their cruel necromancer masters chilled the hearts of young children in the druidic enclaves. In many a young druid, the thought of zombies bred the instinct to flee, but to Fen it only bore rage.

She had as part of her druidic vocation spent many a night tracking and hunting the undead of this realm and those threatening to disturb Silvanus' balance. In fact, it was something she had sworn to at one time in her life. Where ancient battlefields had been disturbed by budding necromancers attempting to resurrect the dead and pull them from the ground, she would find herself called. In a rage she had ripped them apart, rendering their rotten flesh back to the earth where it belonged.

Wherever the wind called her - a sacred woodland in peril, or an ancient marshland at threat - she would be called.

And she would raze them to the ground.

You'd think then, with her experience, that she would have at least felt weary of the vampire spawn who she had welcomed around the fire. At least before she had awoken his fangs bared at her throat.

Fen was unsure whether it was a nightmare that had woken her up that night, perhaps one of her regulars. Or had she been perceptive that something was amiss? Or maybe, for once, she had just been lucky.

Leaning over her, his teeth bared, and pupils dilated he was posed to strike. Her heart raced in her chest, her breathing shallow and quick. The need to run. The need to hide. The inability to move from that very spot.

"Shit", He physically recoiled at seeing her awaken in front of him and stood cowering back from her. "No no, it's not what it looks like, I swear."

Standing on her own feet, her legs shook below her. The adrenaline coursing through her blood was working its own type of innate magic.

"No? Because it looks pretty fucking terrible right now", she hissed. Eyes not leaving the man in front of her.

“I wasn't going to hurt you. I just needed - well, blood.”

There, in the glow of the dying firelight, she saw him for his true nature - a vampire.

"I can't believe I didn't see it", she uttered mostly to herself. Her eyes glanced over the two very obvious scars lying on his neck. "Gods, the boar -"

"It's not what you think. I'm not some monster" He was quick to explain. Fen was certain that in the short time she had known Astarion, he hadn't ever come across as this flustered before. In any other context, she would have even perhaps found this amusing. "I don't kill people – well not for food anyway - animals mostly. I'm just too slow at the moment. I can't think clearly. I'm too weak. I just… I just need a little blood… please".

His gaze fell to the floor. He looked so small at that moment. A starving fox desperate for a scrap of meat.

"And you didn't think this was information we deserved to know? You didn't think we should be allowed to know what we share our camp with at night”.

He grimaced slightly at her choice of words, and she almost felt guilty.

"I needed some time. That's all. People don't tend to warm very much to the idea of travelling with a vampire. I just needed some time to get you to trust me. And you can trust me, Fen."

There was a small part of Fen that couldn't help but feel relieved by this realisation.

She recognised something in him she knew well.

Yes, this was a predator, but she knew predators. She understood them. She could predict their moves and at times had been a predator herself. And this one was acting out of sanguine thirst.

What had actually frightened her more just moments ago, was being awoken to the body of a strange man over hers and the fear of what he might do to her.

No, she would unpack those feelings later. Hunger she could deal with. She had known hunger well, intimately.

"Ok…" she said, initially unsure. Then with a bit more confidence: "Ok."

His shoulders visibly relaxed and he held his head only a fraction higher. "You don't think… that um… you could perhaps trust me just a little further? I just need a taste, I swear. "

Fen had no idea what came over her. The Fen of a decade ago would have hissed and revolted at the idea. She would have taken on the form of a fearsome beast and ripped this creature before her apart with her claws for the sheer audacity of the question. Silvanus himself would have commanded it.

But now his voice was as silent as the night around them. And now, if she had heard his call on the wind, would she have obeyed? Only resentment festered where her faith once bloomed.

Perhaps going through with this might even be cathartic to the young elf. Perhaps she could test her bindings to her God who had lost her favour.

"Let's do this then." The words had left her mouth before she had even realised that she had made a decision.

They both seemed slightly surprised by her choice - Astarion noticeably.

"Of course, don't even think about taking more than you need." She needed to set boundaries - for both her physical and mental wellbeing. "When I signal to stop, you stop."

"Yes, yes, absolutely. Not a drop more"

"Swear to it." This was important to her. Not often had she given herself willingly to someone like this, especially in a way in which she would be with so little control.

"I swear" He breathed; his blood-red eyes fixed on hers.

Again, how had she missed this?

He swallowed against what must have been a very dry throat and signalled to the ground "Should we make ourselves more comfortable?".

She tried to hide the little quiver in her legs as she returned to sit on her bedroll, leaning back on her elbows. "Would this be easier? Or would it be best if I was lying down?" She impressed herself with her ability to keep her voice calm, but inside she was anything but.

Yes, she had agreed to this with her words, but she was sure he could hear her heart thundering in her chest.

"Perhaps lie back down? In case you feel woozy?" He offered, now kneeling beside her.

She would have preferred to have remained sitting to have clung on to any illusion of control but understood his reasoning.

Leaning over her, he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled to the elbow, and she stopped herself to admire the tense forearms which now enclosed her. Strong and lean, she wondered how they would flex as he twisted a dagger into an abdomen. Or how they would feel wrapped around her. It must have been the adrenaline talking. Her body was strung like a piano wire, ready to snap at any minute.

However, she couldn't ignore his scent filling her nostrils and making her dizzy. It was a warm smell of woody rosemary and fragrant bergamot with the lingering tail of something alcoholic and heady. Brandy? She wondered.

She realised she had never been this close to him before, and she had to acknowledge that he was just magnificent. A true testament to earthly beauty, high cheekbones; stark elven eyes with pupils blown to leave just rings of blood red; thick silver curls tucked behind pointed ears. In another life perhaps she could have fallen for a face like this. Instead, she was welcoming her neck to it.

"Please, just make sure you stop when I say," her voice now a whisper. She felt small. A mouse caught between the paws of a cat, awaiting its fate.

Leaning on one arm, his hand found hers - noticeably less calloused but just as cold as she had expected. He brought their hands to the back of his head. Her fingers combed into his soft curls. "There. Pull here when you need me to stop."

And there it was, all the control she had in the world: silver-white hair between her fingers.

His hand now fell to the side of her neck, tilting her head and exposing the other side of her throat to him. She supposed this would act as a counterbalance, stopping her from pulling away or flinching as he worked.

His eyes searched her face eagerly, awaiting an invitation, which she gave in the form of a slight nod.

The fingers of her spare hand found the dirt next to her. She braced herself.

He made his descent.

Teeth found her internal jugular vein instinctively. Blades of ice pierced her skin, cold sinking down her vena cava and directly to her heart. With each beat the pain ebbed and waned to throbbing numbness. She could feel his lips on her skin as he drew his first mouthful of her blood. He shuddered above her, already drawing in the next.

At this moment, she fully expected to feel fear of the undead creature sucking her life force from her neck, or perhaps even disgust from years of druidic lecture. Maybe she had expected to feel deviant against the teachings of her God. Victorious in her rebellion. At the very least she expected to feel frightened of the man above her who she was currently at the mercy of.

But no, the moment Astarion's arm collapsed, and she felt his body press deep into her, the only thing she felt was desire. Hard lines of his torso pushed down against her chest. Firm was the earth beneath her. Firm was the man atop her.

She felt more than heard the groan he made as it vibrated deep within his chest. Her legs quivered in response. She was initially thankful that he had chosen to lean over her from the side, but now she felt desperate for the press of his hips against her, to feel his pelvis hold hers down.

An unfamiliar ache pulsed between her thighs and her legs rubbed together in response.

Her senses were saturated with him. With each mouthful, she felt him press harder into her, shuddering, his grip on her throat absolute and unwavering. His scent poisoned her mind. His rabid breaths were crystal clear in her ear.

Her blood flowed into him. She was in all sense of the word consumed by him.

The dark expanse of the night sky felt to be descending on them as her vision blurred around the edges. She was mindful enough through her unexpected arousal that this was the effect of blood loss taking hold.

She tugged weakly at his hair. His reply was a grunt at her neck and another frenzied mouthful. A firmer pull dragged his head slightly to the left, but his jaw never left her neck. Another mouthful surrendered to sanguine thirst.

That numb sensation now started to spread. Starting from her toes, now progressing gently up her body. "Astarion-" she whimpered. "Please" Her voice was as weak and small as she felt.

Her thundering heart now waned to a flutter, with each suck she felt herself go.

She lost grip of his head, her hand now falling to the ground beside her with a thud.

If she had been more conscious, she would have perhaps found this poetic. The druid sworn to destroy armies of the undead, willingly exsanguinated by one. Pathetic really.

It was unclear whether it was the sound of her arm falling to the earth or the loss of pressure at the back of his head that brought Astarion back to his senses, but it couldn't have come at a more crucial second.

He disengaged with her throat and withdrew himself from her clumsily. He pressed his hand firmly to her wound in an effort to stop the bleeding.

"Oh shit, yes. Of course, " He floundered. Blood now stained his pale lips and speckles of his chin red. Stark against his pale skin. Her blood.

Her hand came up to replace his, as she shuffled back to put more space between them. As she sat up slightly, her head span momentarily as she caught her bearings. Her other arm held her abdomen protectively, symbolically putting up a barrier between them.

She was suddenly aware of how cold the night was around them. Gone was that heady feeling that encompassed her previously, but that trembling ache between her legs shamefully persisted. Goosebumps littered her skin.

Now her guard was up, he straightened and replaced his own mask. He stood with confidence. "I was just a bit swept up in the moment there, wasn't I darling?"

"Bit of an understatement, I would say!" She hissed, conscious not to wake the rest of camp. "You did almost kill me there."

"But I didn't, did I?" He said with a confident smirk and all of his infamous grandiose returning and then some. "It worked. I feel incredible!" He stretched his limbs like a cat after a satisfying rest. "Stronger. Happy!"

"Well, I'm glad" Fen muttered almost sarcastically, pulling her hand back to check on her oozing neck. "I would appreciate it if you had more restraint next time."

Where did the idea of a next time come from? Astarion's grin grew larger before her very eyes.

"Astarion-" She started. "I think it's best we keep this between us. I don't think our companions would take as well to you feeding off them." The thought of La'Zel's blade to his throat crossed her mind.

"That's very generous of you darling, I doubt any of them would be as delicious anyway." She blushed most unusually at the thought that her blood was tasty.

"Now if you excuse me, darling, you're invigorating, but I need something more… filling" Adjusting his shirt and the waistband of his leather trousers he turned to leave.

Just as he took a few steps, Fen felt a question linger on her lips. "Astarion-" He stopped, turning his head slightly to the side to hear her. "Why me?" It had been particularly risky for him to feed in the middle of camp. And surely, he would have appreciated the privacy of a tent to hide away from prying eyes. Anyone could have caught them.

His eyes briefly flashed with something. Regret? Guilt? Before returning to their confidence "Convenience I suppose. You were the first one I spotted, and I couldn't resist, dear."

"Oh," She replied, but she wasn't sure she was convinced. She would have perhaps believed him more if he had told her, it was because he found her to be the most vulnerable, both physically and mentally.

He turned to leave once more but stopped again "This is a gift you know. I won't forget it."

He sauntered away into the surrounding woods, stronger, confident.

Although the bleeding had surely stopped at this point, her hand remained, pressing into the wound. She almost enjoyed the aching pain it elicited, a mere wisp of a memory in comparison to what she had just felt.

Her mind was racing as she scrambled back into her bedroll. She attempted to ground herself.

Firm dirt under her back and stars above her head. Deep breaths. Firm dirt and stars. More deep breaths.

There were more trails of thoughts in her head than she believed she had room for, especially accounting for her current tadpole occupancy.

Most importantly, although she felt like she could at any moment, she hadn't spontaneously combusted into a ball of fire and flame. She hadn't instantly been struck down by a rogue lightning strike. A pack of wolves hadn't descended on her in that very moment.

A choice had been made, and seemingly there hadn't been any consequences.

Perhaps this was a sign of the state of affairs. Was this confirmation that her God truly didn’t have the hold on her that she had thought? She was clearly able to defy him. Or maybe Silvanus just didn't have the presence she thought and was just not aware of the sin she had committed.

Fen hoped it was the former. She wanted him to see what she had done. For over a decade she had prayed to him and for a decade she had heard nothing. Not even a whisper in the wind. Nature was silent as she was tortured. No, she wanted him to know what she had done.

Although to any observant, they would think that at that moment she was very much at Astarion's mercy. Her control firmly in his hands. But merely the act of surrendering that control briefly was a revelation to her.

She had felt powerless for so long. Over her mind, her fate and especially over her body. So often was she claimed by others without permission, but she had given herself to him freely.

Her fingers lingered over the puncture sites on her neck. They would surely scar. They would join the legion of scars and brands littering her skin.

However, these were different. She had allowed Astarion to mark her willingly. And they made her feel powerful.

Wondering how far she could push her autonomy, her mind wandered back to that feeling of desire that had washed through her. His strong arms encapsulating her. His lips pressed to her neck as he fed upon her. The hard press of his chest to hers, pinning her in place. The brief adjustment of his trousers before he left - the only indication that perhaps he had felt even the slightest bit affected by their feeding than she had been.

Her spare hand wandered down her body, finding a part of herself she had long disregarded years ago. She found that deep part of her that ached and worked to rid herself of the tightened coil she felt within herself. Fen couldn't remember the last time she had been allowed such simple carnal pleasures and sighed as she spent the next few minutes relearning how to enjoy her body.

For the first time in years, she had no thoughts of the horrors of Manshaka, and no visions desert worn hands holding her down. The only thoughts she had were musings on what Astarion’s fingers would feel like inside her instead.

[thatdeadaquarius]

A TAG GAME?! :O :D !!

✨️💙✨️

♡ 3 Lovely Ships:

Soukoku (i just think theyre so ✨️silly✨️ & couples that are @ war r my fav so- 🥰) also i recently discovered MANGA soukoku??!?!?! like theyre literally

✨️🍒🍑🍓🩹🩸💀🔫🏳️‍🌈🚔��🍉🍊🍋✨️ <- this

EraserMic THIS SHIP HAS BEEN IN MY BRAIN SINCE THE YEAR THE DAMN ANIME CAME OUT, IN THE YEAR OF YOU, OUR CREATOR 2016 I THINK 😭 (sagau ref lol)

IVE LITERALLY CEMENTED THEM SO HARD AS MY GAY DADS THAT I FUCKING FORGOT THEYRE NOT CANON- i get confused when theyre on screen and not more coupley 💀 biggest comfort ship <3

Myself / the near entirety of Genshin Impact Playable Characters LMAOO IM A POLYAMOROUS SL*T IDK WHAT U WANT FROM MEEEE-

♡ First Ship:

Wow, back in ye olden days.. hmm... i wanna say Sasuke/Naruto lmao, I DIDNT REALIZE HUT I HEARD THE WORST NEWS EVER RECENTLY THAT IT WAS ORIGINALLY A BL INSTEAD OF AN ACTION THINGY AND THEY WOULDVE DATED 😭😭

♡ Last Song:

Labour by Paris Paloma! Im so fucking obsessed it just embodies the entirety of Feminine Rage I need- and how hard women work all the fucking time!

(Idk ig this is part of the template but-)

Live, Laugh, Love Hatsune Miku too

@fandangotales lol

♡ Last Movie:

Cocaine Bear!

Kinda cgi gory, mostly gross, sometimes i gagged 😭, watched it in theaters and it was so hilarious tho, the dialogue was like, super natural too! Like realistic jokes i would make in those situations lmao

Hope i can write dialogue that natural one day :O

♡ Currently Reading:

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System!

I fucking love this light novel (AND ITS ARTIST?! I SAW IT IN A BOOKSTORE AFTER KNOWINF THEM OFF TWITTER AND WAS IN SHOCK-)

♡ Currently Watching:

Bungou Stray Dogs & Saving 80,000 Gold In Another World For My Retirement!

♡ Currently Consuming:

Some fucking stellar Boba teas from my local shop in town! I got a sort of strawberry frozen one with whip cream and mango jelly stars + lychee popping pearls And my quintessential Thai Tea w/classic tapioca my beloved <3

Yes... I am a fancy drink bitch 😔, now you all know my secret

♡ Currently Craving:

God who wouldn't I kill for some pasta rn, like penne with the sauce and the cheeseeee UGH 😫 </3

♡ HAHA IM TAGGING:

(no pressure babes!)

@mists-reading-nook (UR SOLDIER/POET/KING WORSHIP IS CONSUMING MY WORLDBUILDING HEART- I CHECK TO SEE IF U EVER POST ANYTHING/POST ABT KING BC ILY UR WRITING SM<3)

@lonelyrosegold (i just found u but i rlly loved ur background music about Linked Universe, which I also just found out about lmao)

@bk-4-trash-fire (the OG, the SUPREME, My Liege 😌✨️ ur actually one of the first ppl that rotred my brain over genshin sagau! Thank u for all ur cool ideas that i may or may not write an entire short story abt some day lmao! The Possession AU i made was partially inspired by you!<3)

@intothegenshinworld (new for me but awesome writer!! I cant wait to see more of ur stuff!)

@chocogi (UR PUPPETEER AU PARTIALLY INSPIRED MY POSSESSION AU! thanks for the cool content!!)

♡

@fandangotales & @undecidingfate

THANK YOU BOTH?! FOR THE TAG 😭 It sounds silly but ive never gotten tagged for these things before & i was so happy to see it ;u; !!

More asks answered/posts to come my fellow zodiac signs!!

Safe travels,

💀♒️

[oneofthepowerful]

February 10th 2024 - Blog 2

Roughly every week or so, I would like to share some behind the scene progress of my series One of the Powerful, as it has been going through some developments, which we shall be discussing starting with this blog.

Rigging

After hand drawing two, over 10 minute animatic episodes. While storyboarding Episode 3 (which will be heavily action focused) I began thinking about how I could save time drawing as I noticed each episode taking longer and longer to make due to me being a one-man animation team. One of these ideas was creating 2D puppet rigs, that could allow me to pose characters like an action figure. And since I learned how to use control points to rig hair strands in Clip Studio Paint, I thought I could settle with that. As yes, it saves time, however since the program is very limited when it comes to puppet animation, being more of an illustration and frame by frame 2D animation software, I felt like there could be a better way to do what I felt would be best for this series.

I proceeded to study a few cartoons that I noticed used 2D rigged puppet animation, and looked into the software that some of the shows were made in. One that really interested me was Toon Boom Harmony, I saw that some people were able to give the appearance that a character is 3D by using controls even though it was all 2D, like this. I knew I wanted to learn something like this for my series, being able to pose a character’s head in different angles with some adjustment here and there would save so much time!! However, Toon Boom is WAYYY out of my budget sadly, but then I saw that Blender Grease Pencil and its rigging tools could give me a very similar if not the exact same result:

I’ve used Blender in the past, however only for creating basic camera movements for some of my animations. I had made a donut a couple of years ago but that was just about my experience with the program, my knowledge with Blender is very much limited. However, I was dedicated to try and give this whole rigging idea a chance so I proceeded to watch some tutorials to learn not only 2D rigging, but also Blender’s Grease Pencil, due to it being able to draw with vectors. Over a month later, I thought I’d share my progress:

After learning how to rig an eye, mouth and eyebrow to understand the basics of rigging; I noticed just how time consuming and tedious the whole process is, there is a lot of steps and A LOT of trial and error as anything can go wrong, it can take multiple rigging attempts to get the result you are after. But once you finish a rig, it’s such a rewarding time saver in the long run!

Once I understood the basics of rigging, for the past few weeks I have been chipping away at a 2D rig head turn, following this tutorial series! Using Hoshi as a test, since I thought he would be the easiest out of the main cast to rig, and well… that was until I was drawing out and rigging his hair - I had to really think about how each strand was all layering on top of one another and it was extremely time consuming, however I have got it mostly working now!

Currently, all of Hoshi’s facial features are rigged, this past week or so I’ve been rigging his mouth using what I learned rigging the last one. And it’s decent -but like most of the rig, it needs more refinement, being all a bit unpolished. I have also been having a lot of trouble rigging his lips, as they don’t deform the same way as the mouth rig, causing me having to place the lips manually, every time I change the mouth pose - which is a pain, so I’ve been trying to get it working with little luck at the time of writing. I also need to add in proper controls for the rig to make it more easier to animate, which will be done once everything is rigged and working as it should.

Down below, are some expression tests I did with Hoshi's rig, keep in mind these are all still a work in progress as I mentioned the rig is quite unpolished, however I’d love to hear your thoughts on it!! ^^

Concepts

While working on the rig, I have been making some minor rewrites, like adding more depth to events and characters in the story of OotP - which at this point in time I cannot speak much on due to heavy spoilers. However, Season 1 may end quite differently than originally planned, the ending being more polished and more organically linking things up, instead of things just coincidently happening. This all leading into season 2 more smoothly! ;)

Since I’ve been rigging, I’ve been thinking about character design a lot and thought since Episode 1 and 2 are likely going to be remade using 2D puppets for consistency sake. I’ve been wanting to slightly update some character designs, as I’ve barely changed the main casts' civilian designs since 2021 if memory serves me right, and there is somethings I want to change more with Cassidy and Hoshi’s designs - Erin’s design is fine for the time being, but I will change a few minor things like simplify their hair slightly for rigging, however their design changes will come up at a later date.

With Cassidy since she is based off a lion, I had her hair be in a braid to sorta resemble a lion tail.

However, for her new civilian design I’m considering having her hair more curly and bushy to fit her more happy, chaotic, bubbly personality, and to have it now sort of look like a lion’s mane? Then when she goes into her Powerful State (where a Powerful, someone who has magic, transforms to use their full abilities) I will have her hair transform in a long braid like before! Imagining the transformation for that is super fun!! 😀

I am also considering changing her outfit a little to be more casual and to have it easier to rig? I think changing her colour scheme to fit more with her blonde hair and the whole lion resemblance would be cool, however I might leave that for her powerful state outfit? I’m still figuring out her outfit, but I like the bright colours of the middle illustration (down below) as it fits her loud, outgoing personality!!

Also did you know that once a Powerful’s magic awakens (this can happen from when they are a child, like Erin’s case, or when they are a teen like Hoshi) it can sometimes alter their appearance when in their civilian form or "disguise", most commonly their hair. For an example, Cassidy used to have dark hair, however once her magic awakened, her hair changed to blonde. However everyone in this world, Powerless or not can be born with any hair colour, or people can choose to dye it. :D

Onto Hoshi, I have drawn some expression tests, being reference for the rig!

While working on Cassidy’s redesign sketches I thought I’d tweak Hoshi’s outfit a little as well. Without spoiling much, Hoshi wants to become as unnoticeable as possible, like he doesn’t exist (at least in his civilian design). When I designed Hoshi a few years back, I didn’t really flesh out his past or motivations all that much. So now looking at his current design, the contrasting colours of red and green could symbolise his messed up mental and physical state, but I’m not sure how much it really fits him outside of that, and I think the colours also stand out a bit too much for what Hoshi wants. So I’ve been thinking of toning his outfit's colour palette down a bit. I still don’t know if I will get rid of his red jacket as that has stuck with him since the very start back in 2020:

For rigging, you really want to avoid placing details on joints, and I knew that Hoshi’s knee ripped jeans would most likely make things quite complicated, so I am going to also play around with different designs for that in the near future!!

Down below are a couple of colour variations of a sketch from a potential updated Hoshi design:

I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on this!! I hope these blogs provide more insight on the progress of the series behind the episodes!!

Thank you all very much for reading! ^^

[neilwroteathing]

I wanna ramble about my TADC OC bc god damn I'm seeing too many lovely ones and I get FOMO.

Sadly I own no references of the character itself but alas, I wanna make use of this blog ahead of time and lay out ideas I've had before writing the main Google Doc of this character as the bio, since I tend to look to solidly form the OC before writing its bio as a sort of 'finalized version'.

I'll be adding pics of things described when needed since it'll be more fun in that way.

Ladies and Gents!

Say hello to my TADC OC:

Timberly, the puppeteer, puppet and ventriloquist!

I'll start off saying that I wanted to make a clown, since I love clowns, but since Pomni is the protagonist and Kaufmo exists as well- So that's off the table. Following those very rules over no clowns I decided to do the same for the general cast, aka to vary and try not to lean too much on just one aspect, so Abstract (Zooble), animals (Jax duh) Animate inanimate (Gangle, Kinger and Ragatha) had to be only minor showings in the OC itself. So I experimented a little

Something suggested by a friend is to look up 90's toys, which I did try out to gather inspiration. At some point I reached the idea of a puppet, a sort of wooden and yarn style of doll that then shifted to actual wood body, yarn joints and lastly strings to hold up.

This is where the main body of the OC would go, Timberly was the name of the puppet, bottom heavy, rough wood shapes and long arms made to imitate something I kind of wanted to have fun with...

This smug fuck, why? His arms! The idea of wide colorful cylinders for arms, connected with strands of yarn in between down to a pair of simple pointed stubs for hands at the ends made me pretty happy to imagine. Timberly's clothing choice is still undefined but would most likely have either a long dress with puffy shoulders or even suspenders! Overall to not interrupt with the colorful segmented arms using sleeves. Hair? Not sure what it'd be like YET but I am working on it, though it might not be yarn so it isn't like Ragatha's.

Timberly as a name comes from Kimberly, but with Timber.

Second part of the character came off due to the idea of the main body being a puppet, and frankly was too amusing of a concept not to include, to which I want to introduce the puppeteer, Hans!

Hans... Is clearly meant to be like Hands, because it is in fact a giant, hovering toony white glove that handles a wood X made to carry around Timberly. Hans is essentially the movement for Timberly, while she is the physical expressions and body function such as touching objects and possessing some of the core senses. Hans is pretty simple in design due to not being the expressive one- try answering the questions:

'How are you?'

'Where does it hurt?' and

'Where is the heart?'

Without using your body EXCEPT your hand. That's Hans, it can do wavy motion to respond the first one but not much else- you don't need a reference to imagine what Hans looks like.

Lastly is one of the more personally formed parts, third "member" of those that form Timberly as a whole: Gogo!

Brandishing the same name as the character, Gogos are made by Panini, cool little plastic collectibles I remember gathering when I was smoler. Yes some of them look quite weird in shape don't ask- But the point is that Gogo is meant to imitate one of these, and Gogos are tiny, like roughly 5-8 cm or so (Look up how much that's in inches lol) and generally had varying designs, from alien to robotic to animal of all sorts. Gogo is mostly a simple big lower base with small middle body and a big head that imitates the look of a simplified Talkboy, all with a robotic appearance.

Now why would Gogo have a head like this? Simple! Gogo is the voice of the group! But since Gogo is quite small (10 cm tall) and usually sits on Timberly's head and speaks for the other two!

Now that we defined who makes up the character, there's one thing I intentionally made in a way, which was having Hans, Timberly and Gogo be almost impossible to tell if they were separate entities or a single one since in their story, all of them arrived together in one go and appeared to fall in love with the Digital Circus itself in mere moments of appearing.

Sometimes they'd behave like three people, with arguments looking like Timberly making annoyed gestures, Hans shaking either of the two and Gogo being vocal and loud- While other times they all act in one way together, Gogo speaking, Timberly gesturing and Hans keeping them on the move if needed.

Who knows what these three are, if not a single mind that fell into what felt like a dreamy blessing, or three individuals shackled to live as one?

First post using this account again, fun stuff, sorry about the text wall but if you did reach this, hope you liked the concept of the character!

I'll uh... Learn how to segment posts better soon.

[ratten-man]

But isn't a trans man someone who transitioned into manhood?

Yes, but everyone has their own experience for what that entails exactly.

For me, technically medically, im afab so ive transitioned into a man. But for me , I never felt like I was a girl, Ive always felt like I was just me, and that me is a boy, now a man. If people say I was a girl as a child, it feels wrong and incorrect. People seeing me as a girl just appalled me. My deadname was and is someone else, completely disconnected from me.

I dont have a connection to girlhood, the closest thing is that I always liked dolls and animals lol

I had a mostly genderless upbringing, but anything that was gendered felt like I was an outsider getting a peek in, for years bc of the disconnect I felt I was a ghost operating a girl puppet

I was always a boy, now Im a man, and for me hrt is medical intervention, to fix what estrogen did to me.

Some trans men feel like they were girls, some trans men feel like they were boys that were seen as girls, some trans men felt genderless, some were always boys etc etc

Its up to each person to decide what is more accurate to their life

I say im a trans man, cuz I had the experience of ppl seeing me differently and not having my body fit me, and taking measures to mend that. Ive transitioned in the eyes of other people, not mine

and bears repeating: this is what my experience as a trans man has been, everyone has a different one, even if similar. Everyones exp is valid, this is just what its like for me

[wipples]

Ch 5 draft

Accident Prone

The room was steamy when she entered. Fog coated the mirror. She could tell Wally had to wipe a circle to see himself based on the round outline blurred slightly over.

On the counter are couple towels. She grabs the red one, holding it against herself to see how much it matched the sweater she wore. She smirked at herself in the mirror, posing slightly. The novelty of seeing herself animated hasn't yet worn off.

Throwing the towel over her shoulder, she carefully made her way over to the tub. Making sure not to dampen her socks on any wet patches Wally may have left behind. Then she slung the towel over the shower rod and pulled back the curtains.

First she removed her shirt, enjoying the sudden relief of having taken off a sweater in a hot musty room. Even though she couldn't see the arm hair, she could feel it slightly standing.

The rest of her clothing went on top of the counter in a sloppy pile. She stood there in front of the mirror, naked with her hands on her hips, contemplating. Then, she took the panties that were dolloped on top and placed them between the flaps of the folded sweater. 'Just in case...'

She nodded to her crazed expression in the mirror, then turned back to the tub. Her hands went for the nobs and turned them to the highest setting. Because Wally went ahead of her, the water hadn't needed much time to run hot. When stepping a foot in over the lip, she also reached for the stopper.

The tub offered plenty of room for her legs to stretch out. What might a cute little puppet like him need with all this space? Who knew. She didn't. That's his business.

The water continued to rush in and flutter over her ankles, relaxing the muscles there. As the water began to reach her hips, she remembered that her blue hair would also need washing, and yet she grabbed the red towel. Sighing to herself in mild annoyance and not wanting to stain anything that wasn't hers, she stood up.

A wet foot squished against the wood floor and she grimaced, despising the feeling of being wet and bare against any surface. Lucky for her, there hadn't been any dust or bits and pieces of any kind. Not that she could see anyway. The little guy seemed to take real good care of his house, or maybe Home keeps himself clean? She hadn't felt anything sticking to her when passing by the empty space a toilet should be, and snatching up the other towel.

While turning back to the cartoonishly white tub, she silently prays for its stain resistance. 'There aint no way anyone's natural hair is blue.' She snorted, 'Unless your Wally, I guess.'

She took a step, and slipped. The towel did nothing deter it. With a loud yelp, her naked body hit the floor with a pathetic plap. The breath was knocked out of her. Her forehead banged a sharp sound against the wood, forcing her to reach for it and squirm in pain. Little whimpers left her lips, inaudible from outside the bathroom. She didn't hear the door being knocked on over the water still flooding the tub, neither the muffled monotoned voice of Wally asking if she needed assistance. Her eyes watered, embarrassed at the mistake and the throbs of pain radiating from her head.

"Bunny?" She did hear him this time. Her voice was quiet and breathy, but audible to the puppet outside. "...yeah?"

She could still barely hear him over the water, but could still make out what he mostly said. "I asked if you were okay in there."

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes, wobbling on her legs as she tried to stand back up. "I'll be okay. Just hit my head..."

"Oh dear..." His voice became a little more quiet before speaking again. "Bunny?"

She returned to standing and nearly heaved at the soreness in her chest. Automatically accepting this pattern of questioning from him at this point, she responded weakly still. "Yes?"

She had the wind knocked out of her and needed a moment to breathe. It was difficult trying to extend her diaphragm, but she tried her best as Wally asked, "Do you need company?"

'What, so you could watch?' The voice in her head snarked rudely, but she understood the sweet intentions behind his interesting wording. She grit her teeth when she bent down to reach the fallen towel. "No, not in here. But thats very nice of you."

"That's good." She snorts at his quick response, involuntarily huffing a sigh after. She stood there for a few more beats, waiting for his voice to return. When it hadn't, she carefully made it back to the tubs lip and turned the water off. It was full enough at this point, and steaming.

Steadily, she sunk her leg in and watched the edges. Her eyes clenched at the heat and she sighed contently once settled.

The back of her head was cupped against the large tubs lip. She rested her eyes and sunk into the water a bit more, wishfully believing that the soreness will dissipate faster this way. There was a noticable echo in the room, much like what most bathrooms had. This made the small creaks of Home more noticable, even when she dipped her ears under the water. She just assumed he was speaking to Wally, and didn't pay it much mind.

A deep intake of breath later, and she dipped her head beneath the hot waters. Her legs had to adjust forward, and hike a little over the lip. She opened her eyes to watch the bubbles pass by her head. Her hair strung up above and around her cheeks like nuzzling ghosts. The ceiling is only minorly obscured by the glass wall of water hovered up above her.

With hair now drenched, she fingers through it and tries to scrub at her roots to loosen the oils that may have built up there. She stops suddenly and looks to her hands, then to the sides of the tub and on the counter a slippery distance away.

"...forgot to ask for soaps and hair stuff..."

With a grimace, she wobbles to a kneeling position within the tub, readying herself to stand again. But then, she heard something sliding behind the wall. Her eyes softened.

"Whassat?" she mumbled, not expecting, but not overly surprised by the wood panel in the wall opening to slip two bottles and a rolling brush into the bath. They plopped right in, with the bottles remaining buoyant as the brush sank and hit the bottom with a reverberated clunk. Her brows raised and she lowered her knees and slowly laid back to relax in the warm water. She meant it when she said "Thanks Home" as she dug around to find the brush that fell.

It was waterproof luckily, looked to be made for bathing. Her thumb ran over the teeth, then she twirled it in her hand a little before placing it on the tubs lip. She examined the bottles; shampoo and soap. Each with branding she didn't recognize. It's a classic look for a bottle, and lucky for her, not made of glass like many old bottles were before plastic was commonplace. It did lack an expiration date though.

She continued to eye it up and down, and figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

While lathering her hair, she hummed a tune. It was quiet and slow, yet managed to echo ever-so-slightly.

She would often sing proudly in the privacy of her own bathroom, but never around anyone. Even the few times she'd been invited to karaoke, she'd always sat out. She supposed she had to be cautious of somebody always being present now. Her eyes relaxed until fully closed.

When evening falls

she'll run to me

like whispered dreams

your eyes can't see

soft and warm

she'll touch my face

a bed of straw

against the lace

Once she determined that her hair was frothy enough, she sank into the water and rinsed. Shampoo contaminated the waters around her, and spread evenly until nearly opaque.

She held out the soap, processing what to do next. Usually, she'd have a removable showerhead for this...

It wasn't something she's proud of, but could anyone blame her for preferring to sit instead of stand? In the shower? It was one of her deepest comforts, and one of the only places she felt safe enough to 'ugly cry' as she'd call it. Not that she needed that right now...

Her eyes panned up to the very obviously fixed showerhead above the tub and continued to hum as she got up and began wash her body; removing the excess shampoo.

We believed

we'd catch the rainbow

ride the wind

to the sun

sail away

on ships of wonder

She grunted and furrowed brows at the soreness still in her chest when a soapy hand went to coat it. 'ugh.'

Without bending, she unplugged the tub with her foot, and twisted the nob for the showerhead. A hiss slipped through her teeth at the sudden cold water. It gushed with hot water a few seconds in. It only took her an extra half minute to rinse. It's a miracle she didn't leave any blue stains in such a white tub. Although, she didn't note any blueness in her shampoo residue either. Which was strange for her because she recently dyed it with cheapo, dubious quality stuff.

After shutting off the water, she ruffled her fine hair and dried off her body. Once done, she wrapped it around herself and stepped out carefully, not wanting a repeat of last time. It was still a little slippery, but not dangerously so.

In front of the mirror, she saw that her hair was messy from the towel. With an annoyed sigh, she grabbed the brush she forgot in the tub.

One of her hands raked the brush through her hair while the other wiped a circle in the foggy glass. It was etched right over the mostly faded previous one. As the fog dissipated, so did the majority of her blurry reflection.

'Can Home get mildewy?' She pondered, noting the absence of a ventilation switch. Bathrooms usually had those, but the cartoon house seemed to lack it. She knew that Wally lived here for a long time, and she didn't smell or see any signs of water damage. 'So probably not?'

While putting on her clothes, she made sure not to ruffle up her hair more than she had to. It looked silly in the mirror when she widened the neck hole to pull her head through. Her bangs stayed shaped, but the ends of her wet hair got sucked up in the turtleneck. She giggled and shook her head around to dislodge it.

Once everything was on and comfy, she folded the towel and tucked it under her arm. Opening the door revealed Wally standing at the door. The surprise send her nearly slipping on her socks, but the grip on the door held her upright.

Her weight made it squeak and she grimaced, shooting an apologetic look to the window in the distance. Home didn't seem too phased by this, he almost looked tickled by it actually. She rolls her eyes. 'At least I'm wearing clothes this time.'

"Were you standing here this whole time?"

"No."

"...Okay." She released the nob, it clicked back and forth for whatever reason. Home just does things. "Well... what do you want to do?"

"Oh! Well, I had hoped we could still paint together." Her eyes sparkled at the suggestion and she nodded eagerly. "Ooo, you're right. Let's do that."

His pupils dilated and he lead her over to a pair of simple black loafers on the floor. "Home helped me find these. Would you like to try them on?"

"Oh, woah." Her lips parted. She glimmered as she slipped them on and sampled a few steps.

"Thank you, Wally. They're perfect."

He beamed and tugged on her hand in the direction of the door. "I can't wait to see what you'll paint, but I'm sure it will be lovely either way."

"Oh, aren't you a charmer?"

She giggles, making their way down the hall and into the living room. Two easels had already been set up, along with chairs, paintbrushes and a few pallets of paint. She guessed he sat all this up while she was bathing, or Home did it. 'but what would *that* look like?' She wondered, unknowing to the full extent of what Home could do.

Wally's hand left hers. He dangled his little legs over the seat in front of the farthest easel, then waited until she also sat down before picking up a brush. He held it in his fist, as opposed to holding it between the index and middle. His eyes crawled along the tall expanse of white paper, then to her currently seated form. She had also been staring at the blank sheet, contemplative and quiet.

"You know, whenever I can't think of what to draw, I would look outside for something pretty. Or I would ask Home, or Barnaby..." She held a paintbrush and looked up from the paper to him, then to the bookcase, and back to him.

"I'd regularly use books for inspiration," She's sort-of fibbing here because the Internet doesn't count as a book, "-but sometimes I'd look at artist portfolios too. I don't think I've ever asked anyone what I should draw before."

"What's an artist por-folio?" She has to keep reminding herself that he came from a kids show. They probably wouldn't teach anything like this on 'Sesame Street.'

"A portfolio is a collection of stuff you've done that's supposed to impress jobs." As she explains this, Wally watches the paintbrush in her hand wave around with interest.

"People often have a folder somewhere with a bunch of pictures, or drawings, or whatever they want to show, and they could get hired if the job likes it." When she finished her thought, his eyes flickered with confusion.

"Why would somebody need to impress a job?" This concept was difficult for him to grasp. Wouldn't anyone be happy to have the extra help?

"Well, people need jobs to make money."

"Money...?"

'Oh lord...' She breathes a sigh through her nose and spins her knees to face him completely. "Do you not know what money is, Wally?"

He shook his head and copied her position, also wanting to face her better. She flounders for a moment, but Wally waits politely for her to find an explanation he might understand. "So, you know how you need stuff. Right? Like...clothing? or paint?"

She avoids mentioning food because the conversation had strayed way too far from painting, any more rabbit hole questions and they may never start. He nodded and verbalized his understanding. "Yes."

"How do you get this stuff?"

"Hmm..." His eyes left hers and he sounded a little further away. "Well, my clothes were made before the show aired. I don't know who made those..."

"...but..." His voice picked back up. "Howdy is who I go to for new paint. I hope we can make it last until Barnaby comes back."

'Oh, gosh...this is heartbreaking...'

She refused to say it out loud, but she knew there was hardly any hope left for the little guy. If she hadn't come down here, he may of been stuck forever. Or at least until some other explorer decided to pick up a random ass toyphone from a building off in the middle of wherever. Of course she's also trapped now, but 'that's whatever.'

This is not the time for such a dark topic, so much like her previous mental decision, she avoids mentioning Barnaby and focuses on the current topic. There's a static-like sound off in the distance, and it causes her to dart around her eyes for the source.

'Thats weird...' It immediately stopped when she actually thought about it. Wally's pupils shrank significantly without reason. Maybe that was just really weird tinnitus? She foregoed bringing attention to it, and continued their conversation.

"So... with Howdy, Did they want something in exchange for the paint?"

"Yes. Howdy accepts jokes as payment because laughing makes him happy. Do they not do this where you're from?"

"Jokes? Well... goddamn..."

'If only...'

She blinks at Wally when he mildly chided, "That's not a very nice word." Her hands loosely raise in play-defeat and she mutters a quiet apology. The weight of his stare tells her that he's still waiting for an answer.

"Well... I've never heard of anyone using jokes as currency, so I can't say nobody does that... But, I feel like I'd at least hear about it."

She stiffly half shrugs, then turns slowly in her seat. He leans outward in his chair to better see her face, but she purposely positioned herself to where he couldn't. His watchful eyes were beginning to take hits off her confidence. She was bad with eye contact and only hoped he understood without telling him.

He was so lightweight, she didn't hear him hop off the stool, nor notice him grab a book until he came back into view next to her. It startled her, but she only mildly jumped in her seat. There was no reaction from him at this, instead he lifted his short arms out to her that held the book. "You said that books help you with inspiration. Would you like this one?"

It was a book that looked to be about local biology, but the animal on the cover didn't look anything like what she recognized. It was far too colorful and cutesy to exist, even in this cartoonish reality. Her expression slacked in response to his bright eyes and open body posture. "Oh, woah."

She placed a hand on the cover and ignored the tingling warmth spreading across her face. "Awe, thank you... This is exactly what I needed."

Wally's eyes seemingly twinkled at the response, glad to have given her happiness. He felt the pressure behind his synthetic eyes relax. "You're welcome, friend."

He went to her side as she opened the book. She gently pet his shoulder when he leaned over, nearly draping himself onto her. While flipping through, she couldn't help noticing it had one of those old fashioned 'Property of' pages with an actual signature where the line is. There, in neat, cursive handwriting was Frank Frankly.

'Was he borrowing this?' She didn't take him for a thief, but the idea of the little guy running around and stealing small things lifted her lips to a smirk. When turning over another page, she set her sights on the most pinkest, fluffiest thing anyone could ever call an insect. Much like the animal on the cover, it was unusual and not representative of anything that exists in the real world.

'nah.'

She flipped the page.

After a few moments of flipping, they both ended up agreeing to paint a red flower one of the odd, colorful creatures stood on. Bunny felt it would be less stressful to focus on something more recognizable. Generally, Wally loved drawing flowers, but not more than drawing his friends.

He picked back up the book with the page still held open, and placed it down on the short table between their two seats. His company had already began painting before speaking again.

"I did want to mention that I'm a bit of a perfectionist, so it might take me a bit to finish."

Wally peered up from dipping his brush in water to open-mouth smile at her. "That's okay neighbor, It takes me a while too. I don't mind though, I like painting."

"It is nice..." She squints at the book, trying to plot out a particularly detailed portion of the plant. "I've never painted with anyone before. Nobody's ever asked, I guess."

"I think it's always nice to paint with company. If you want, we can try other creative things together too."

"Well, I dunno' if I can say no to that."

'Or you.' The little voice in her head piped. It would be difficult to say no to that dashing little face. Her cheeks burned. He laughed, as if he heard what she thought. "Ha ha ha."

Even though his voice never reflected it, the longer she looked at him, the more she started to think his usual smile was more smug than what she originally perceived.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 29

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Constructed in the 80s

With the purpose to perform

Mechanic animals powered by

Children’s souls reborn

With the revving of an engine And the grinding of their gears They can make you fall in love with fear

~Built in the 80s by Griffinilla~

Tuning back into the conversation at the mention of his hollowed-out human body, Michael caught sight of Gregory’s confused face before looking over his shoulder at Lizzie. He let out a small, strained laugh.

“Hey, if you guys can forgive me, I’ll let that go, too.” His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Besides, Lizzie, you scare the crap out of Ennard and that’s a big plus in my book. I’ll explain later, Gregory.”

“Oh, is Ennard here, too…?” Evan questioned, a hit of nerves puncturing his voice. He wasn’t necessarily scared of the weird clown amalgamation, more so just... disturbed. Cassidy would never let it get close enough for Evan to interact with, so he could never be sure of its true intentions.

“They’re outside,” Michael responded, jerking a thumb towards the door they’d come through. As he did so, a flash of brilliant orange stuck out in the corner of his eye. With a little gasp, he moved to Freddy’s side and took the bear’s hand. He waved his other across Freddy’s vision, a little concerned the robot was suffering from information overload because of how still he was. “Oh geez, I’m sorry, big guy… Are you still with us?” 

“Yes, I am present and accounted for,” Freddy responded, almost looking like he went through a mini-restart by the way his facial joints suddenly flipped from their lax, watchful pose into his trademark smile. He squeezed Michael’s palm, allowing the man to pull him a few inches closer to the group.

“Lizzie, Evan, this is technically Glamrock Freddy… but just call him Freddy,” Michael informed his siblings, releasing the bear’s hand when they stopped walking. “He’s cool, don’t worry.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” Freddy said honestly, looking between the lopsided clown and equally lopsided golden bear on the floor.

In his excitement, Evan’s suit had slipped to the side as it was want to do. He’d long-since made peace with the Freddy Fazbear models, and since this one was so different than all the prior versions Evan had a feeling he’d like Glamrock Freddy regardless. Quietly, he piped up: “Your design is rad, Freddy!”

“Thank you,” the animatronic replied with a soft chuckle, running a claw through Gregory’s hair. The gesture was meant to self-soothe more than anything, though he knew Gregory didn’t mind the affection.

Elizabeth stood nearest Evan, gazing at the large Freddy animatronic. She’d noticed him before, though she’d been most concerned with scouting for her brother. Now she could fully appreciate the design choice.

“You? Hanging around with Freddy? Wow, Mike,” Elizabeth remarked mirthfully. Cassidy told them how Freddy was a part of the group. Though from her understanding, it was mostly in mutual benefit for the only surviving kid.

“It's nice to see you both getting along again,” Elizabeth finished almost wistfully, the sound of circus baby's slightly worn voice making her sound somewhat far away. She was happy that her brother hadn't been on his own the entire time—though admittedly a bit jealous that Charlie had let Michael be the first to go into an android body. It annoyed her greatly, but she’d bite her tongue; why let that bother her when she could be happy with her brothers?

Gregory was happy to stick by Freddy, leaning into his dad's leg as he watched the reunited siblings meet again. After scanning Freddy inquisitively, Elizabeth trained her gaze back on the mysterious boy from earlier. She was fixated on something—Gregory could see it in the way her eerie green irises stared directly into his silver ones. When he remembered what Vanessa said, he flicked his vision away self-consciously.

She probably already knows, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek before scooting in closer to Freddy.

Michael caught this interaction and tried to deflect, rubbing the back of his neck with a laugh as he told them: “I kind of unintentionally possessed Fredbear here for a while, so he and I had lots of time to get to know each other.”

He glanced at the bear and Freddy smiled back, the memories of their first encounter now more endearing than anything else. Michael then returned his attention to his original siblings, patting Gregory's shoulder as he did so.

“Anyway—last formal introductions: Lizzie, this is Gregory. Evan, you've clearly met. He's been a big help through all of... this.” He made a vague hand gesture not wanting to speak their current troubles aloud just yet.

“I know you can't tell right now, Gregory, but from what I remember you do like just like me!” Evan piped up, pinprick eyes locked onto the boy again. Instead of shock or fear, his voice held nothing but avid fascination.

“Yeah, we're... not really sure what that's about,” Mike admitted with a laugh, ruffling Gregory's hair until the boy shoved him away. “Charlie's doing something right now, but she's going to be stoked when she finds out you and Lizzie are here! I'm sure she'll get you out of those things the second she sees you—then Evan and Gregory can really freak all of us out with whatever cosmic twin thing you've got going on.”

Evan giggled both at Michael's claim and the thought of finally being out of this rotting bear he'd been trapped in for decades. He'd gotten used to it, sure, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Gregory finally cracked out a giggle at the twin comment, glancing now to the moldy golden suit. Geez, he had a bear for a dad, a brother who’d possessed said bear, and another ursine doppelgänger he hadn’t even known was still around!

It was a good sign Freddy and Evan were both obtaining human suits—from the clues he'd gathered, it was better than him ending up in a Freddy costume next...

“We could get matching sunglasses and no one would be able to tell the difference,” Gregory pointed out, avoiding the self-depreciative side of his joke and instead focusing on the excitement of having a potential twin. Maybe Gregory could convince Freddy to adopt both the vagrant Aftons along with Michael and Charlie… Or maybe he was getting too ahead of himself.

A little gasp escaped the golden Freddy suit, the matted, moldy head shifting up slightly with excitement at Gregory's suggestion. “Ooh, yeah! That'd be so funny! We've gotta get matching outfits too, though.”

Oh boy, they're already plotting, Michael thought amiably, listening to the boys get along like a house on fire. 

“—I miss Charlie so, SO much! I hope we can see her soon,” Lizzie said, the faintest smile in her quiet voice.

Michael nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “We're not sure how long Charlie's going to be, so you might need to hang tight for a bit; she's trying to get some information to help us deal with you know who.”

“...Hey Mikey—you're a robot too, right?” Evan asked after a moment of silence, pinprick eyes locking onto the eldest Afton. “Uncle Henry said something about making you and Charlie new bodies, but he didn't give us a lot of info... Liz and I guessed they had to be some kinda robots, though.”

Michael nodded again, figuring that Henry probably kept information to a minimum so as to not get their hopes up in the off-chance they wouldn't get to see Charlie again to free them from their supernatural bonds. Why taunt Evan and Lizzie with “human” bodies they might never get to use?

“You bet,” Michael replied, waving his hand in a flourish from his head to his toes. “Charlie and I are bonafide androids now. Pretty cool, huh?”

God, it felt so natural joking around with his siblings like this. Michael had worried they'd never be able to get along again, but despite everyone's physical states, it almost felt like old times... Almost.

Lizzie reached forth, gently grasping Michael’s mechanical arm and poking it experimentally. After looking from the arm back to his face a few times, she raised her mangled eyebrows. “An impressive ruse. You even fooled me!”

She let go of her brother after the praise and glanced down to Gregory, who still seemed somewhat wary of the weaponized clown. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Well, unless they were alone; that might be a different story, the compulsion still lingering in Circus Baby’s coding after all this time. However, she had a feeling Glamrock Freddy and Michael wouldn’t leave his side for now. In any case, it was the last thing on Lizzie’s mind as she offered Gregory her more human hand.

Timid, Gregory reached out. He wanted to get along with the Afton siblings—so snubbing Lizzie’s offer would be too rude. His smaller hand slid into her rough metallic grasp, where she would loosely curl her fingers around his palm. It was an odd fit, but a fit nonetheless. When Gregory turned a smile up to her, she gasped quietly.

“Oh he DOES look like you, Evan…”

“I told you!” Evan insisted, a golden paw lifting up for a brief second before flopping back onto the ground in a mildly exasperated gesture. “It’s weird, but also kinda cool—”

His words were cut off by a faint yelp of surprise from the hallway Michael and co. had entered from. This was followed by a slightly nervous laugh and a low voice stating: “Oh! Sorry, Ennard; I didn't notice you there. You’re unusually quiet tonig—is that carpet?!”

The thickening tension in the room released in a swift burst when, as one, Michael and Evan exclaimed: “Uncle Henry!” Their eyes met and they shared a chuckle, before Mike moved to meet Henry at the door.  

“Michael!” the bearded man greeted warmly, pulling his nephew into an embrace. It seemed that no one in this big, extended family would ever take hugs for granted again. “I knew I recognized your voice! Cassidy and I heard some commotion, so I volunteered to check it out.” Henry’s smile was almost giddy, the corners of his eyes crinkled in happiness. “I see you found your siblings.”

“I did,” Michael confirmed, releasing his uncle and beckoning him further into the room. “We’ve had a good talk… thanks for watching over them until I got here.”

“I did what I could,” Henry answered, his response both honest and humble. He stopped a few feet away from the group, acknowledging Evan and Lizzie with a wave before his attention was pulled to the animatronic bear and the child clinging to his side.

Henry’s eyes widened in surprise and he adjusted his glasses, taking in Evan’s doppelgänger. This was so startling that at the moment, he failed to notice the other interesting detail about Gregory’s face. Regaining his composure, Henry offered the pair another smile, thrusting out a hand for whoever wanted to approach him first.

“You must be the infamous Glamrock Freddy and Gregory I’ve heard so much about; I’m Henry—Charlie’s dad. It’s good to finally meet you both!”

For Gregory, it was nearly impossible to tell that Henry was a ghost. The sight of a normal looking human had finally put Gregory at full ease. He approach Henry and reached out to shake his hand. The closer he got to the palpable specter, the more he saw Charlie in him.

“Hi, Charlie’s dad! I expected you to look a lot…” Gregory paused to think about his words.

Deader? Like a mechanical bear himself?

“Spookier!” Gregory settled on, sending the man a well-meaning smile.

“Honestly… I kind of did, too!” Henry admitted with a hearty laugh, soon releasing Gregory’s hand.

It was then he caught a flash of distinctive silver in the boy’s eyes, causing him to tense up—but only for a split-second. Having much more tact then Vanessa, Henry chose not to acknowledge this disturbing feature just yet, though he did shoot Michael a look that promised, we’re going to talk about this later.

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Henry,” Freddy piped up, grasping the man’s still outstretched hand with a beaming smile.

To him, this was akin to meeting a celebrity—the creator of Fazbear Entertainment, the reason for his very existence, was standing right in front of him. It was with reverent admiration that Freddy shook the ghost’s hand, and Henry’s expression seemed to match the bear’s in pure fascination.

“Wow… look at you!” Henry breathed, eyes roaming over the animatronic before looking between Freddy and Gregory with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been told Freddy here is amazingly sentient, even for the Glamrock line—no offense to your counterparts, Fred.” He gave the bear an amiable pat on the shoulder, causing Freddy’s grin to widen.

“None taken—the realization was a surprise to us all,” Freddy replied with a soft chuckle.

The way Freddy brightened quickly at the sight of old Henry Emily brought a full smile to Gregory’s face. Freddy was so excited to meet the only good person that brought him to life—oddly juxtaposing to witness one of the biggest children's entertainment icons around nearly giddy at the sight of the man who helped create him.

“That's because Freddy's the best one—” Gregory said, suddenly feeling a cold chill running down his back. Gregory recognized that feeling of being watched, and he felt as though he couldn't move. A deep, bone-chilling laugh crept over his ear, catching Gregory by surprise.

“Har... Har... Har!”

When he whipped around, there stood the ghost girl from Charlie's séance. He jumped back, letting out a gasp as Cassidy's less distorted, more childish laugh came into focus.

“I've been waiting for you dorks to show up!” she chuckled, popping Gregory in the arm playfully. He rubbed the spot and rolled his eyes at her attempt to scare him, even if it had been pretty effective.

“Cassidyyyy!” Evan whined, already sounding like he'd been through this many times before. “If you keep scaring him, he's not gonna want to be friends!” When Cassidy simply stuck her tongue out at the rotten bear suit, it raised an arm and fell forward to shove her off-balance as she was just within his reach. “You're so rude!”

Gregory watched as Cassidy came over to Evan, playfully bumping into Ol' Goldie's leg with her hip.

“He knows I'm just messin'!” she said, sticking her tongue out at Evan.

In turn, Gregory shoved his hands into his cargo shorts and flipped her off subtly. If his dad and Henry weren’t standing right there, he wouldn’t have hidden it.

“We've been busy,” Michael said in response to the ghost girl, moving to help Evan sit up straight again. The feel of that molding death-trap of a suit nearly made him recoil at first, but Mike pushed through and managed to get his brother back into an upright position before gently patting his shoulder in response to Evan's quiet thank you. Turning to Cassidy, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and added: “We don't have your prize right now, but we're working on that. We just came for a quick visit before everything goes down.”

“It's definitely happening tonight?” Henry asked tentatively, a slight frown creasing his brow.

He wasn't nervous, per se—at least, not at the thought of seeing William again. That he was quite looking forward to; he had some things to get off his chest. Henry just hoped this plan he and Cassidy cooked up would finally work... He didn't know if he or any of the other souls could handle another weekend like this one.

“It is,” Freddy confirmed with a resolute nod. “By dayshift, the threat of William will be out of the Pizzaplex for good.”

There was no room for argument with this statement; if the animatronic bear said it would be so, then it would.

Cassidy wrung her hands as she leaned against Evan's suit. A diabolical smile then spread over her braces. “I wanted to torture him for a little, but Henry told me that we'd probably accidentally release him again. So I'm gonna smash him instead!”

Elizabeth had scoffed indignantly, resting her hand over a rusted hip joint. “Why do you get to smash him?" It was a fair point even if pedantic or fussy.

“Who cares?! He'll finally be dead! I wanted the bastard gone forty stupid years ago!” Cassidy spat back, elbowing Evan slightly. “Back me up, Evan!”

“Whoa, whoa—first of all, what do you mean 'smash him?'“ Michael chimed in before Evan had a chance to respond. “And second, if anyone gets to do that, I should get the first turn!”

“Alright, alright!” This was Henry again, now physically stepping in-between the pair glaring daggers at each other. He gave them each a stern look to chill out for a bit. “The smashing aspect doesn't come in until the end, so let's not worry about that now. Besides, I promise we'll all get a turn—hell, I'll even give Freddy a go if he wants.”

Henry jerked a thumb towards the bear, who was staring at the group with a look of confused alarm. Notably, he now had both paws on Gregory's shoulders just in case they needed to step back from the vengeful ghosts for a moment if they got too riled up with a few decades-odd years of rage.

“I will reserve my decision to, ah... 'smash him' until I see the end result of this plan, if that is alright,” Freddy responded slowly, and Henry's face relaxed into a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, we're probably just freaking you out, huh?” he asked, looking to the bear. “You're from my legacy of animatronics, so I'm sure you're not programmed to hurt a fly.”

“Oh, I think Freddy might surprise you,” Michael murmured, thinking back to all the times the bear had proven himself quite capable of holding his own and causing some major damage—intentional or not. “Trust me, he'll help us kick Father's ass without question.”

“He wrestled an alligator and won!” Gregory proclaimed with nothing but admiration in his voice. In retrospect, now that the danger was far away he could look back and see how freaking cool his dad is. He could even remember the time his father pushed Monty off him time to avoid the break in the catwalk without wincing now.

“The original plan was to break the whole animatronic cage Father locked himself in,” Elizabeth said, starting the rolling ball of explaining the plan. “But we have to extract him into a new vessel, or risk him still infecting Bonnie's parts.”

“Right—and as much as I've grown to tolerate you guys, I'm so tired of William dragging us back here with him,” Cassidy said with a perturbed glower, picking up the ends of a pigtail and twirling it around her finger. “We need Charlie's help to move your crappy dad into an arcade game. Then we crush it... You know, after you guys unpack your rage at him.”

She gestured towards Gregory. “I know you've only been here what, like, three days? But I'm sure you wanna rage a little, right?” Cassidy's anger might be a bad influence on Gregory, because he was just a little hyped up.

“—I was hoping to set him on fire, if that's possible,” he said in a completely serious manner. William’s demise was possibly the one topic he and Cassidy could come together over.

“Nope—tried that twice, didn’t work either time,” Michael said with a quick shake of his head. “Honestly, this arcade transfer thing sounds like it just might work…”

“I appreciate the rousing vote of confidence, Mike,” Henry laughed, patting the android’s shoulder roughly. Michael grimaced, not meaning to discount the plan by any means, but Henry continued before he could get a word out. “It’s fine—I completely understand your hesitancy. William’s a stubborn bastard, I’ll give him that much…”

Henry’s eyes grew unfocused, recalling his last failed attempt to keep the child murderer down. He couldn’t risk that happening ever again.

“…If it is any consolation, from what I understand of William, I also think this is a good plan,” Freddy piped up softly, unsure if he was fully welcome in this discussion yet. When all eyes turned to him the bear pressed on, his smile growing more confident the longer he spoke. “For our part, Michael and I are going to lead him down here by pretending that we are after Gregory—or, I should say ‘Evan.’ William is convinced that Gregory is his youngest reincarnated.”

There was a beat of silence, before the real Evan piped up in a tiny, shaky voice: “Dad… Dad can’t even t-tell that’s not me?!”

Of course the youngest Afton was disgusted by his father’s actions and could never condone or forgive him for all the torment he caused. But out of all William’s kids, Evan harbored the least pure, unadulterated hatred towards him. However, for William to be so deluded he couldn’t even tell his real son from a doppelgänger?

Now that made Evan mad.

The golden Freddy suit trembled slightly, though it was impossible to tell whether this was from the ghost trying hold back his tears, his anger, or both.

“H-Hey, don't take it so hard,” Gregory attempted to console. He touched Evan's grimy leg in a gentle pat. “He's old and crazy... Probably senile. You know?”

Lizzie completely understood Evan's anger. Being forgotten about and misremembered by your own father couldn't be pleasant to go through. She recalled a day after Evan died, when William called her three different names before snapping his fingers in frustrated surrender. Lizzie had to remind him on who she was. So reaching over, Elizabeth sighed and rubbed at Evan's shoulder with the blunt portion of her claw.

“He's a jerk, Evan,” Cassidy reminded him, being the first to hug his leg—the fact that so many of those around him actually comforting him hopefully helped, she thought. Cassidy remembered how Evan used to be ignored plenty of times when he was upset. Perhaps the influx of emotional support would do him some good.

“He's a shithead,” Michael clarified, placing a hand on top of the golden bear's head in consolation. He was seeing red now, wanting nothing more than to punch his father right in his stupid rabbit face. However, he resisted the urge for his siblings' sake. “And we're going to take him down for good—don't you worry.”

There was a little sniffle from inside the suit. “Y-Yeah... yeah, he's going down.” The pinprick eyes flicked to Cassidy. “I definitely want a turn when you smash the game, okay?”

Cassidy had no fear of the various moldy or bare spots on the Freddy suit. She rubbed her cheek into its fabric affectionately in an attempt to cheer up her old friend.

“Evan, I'd be so proud if you hit him first,” she admitted. Evan had spent so long being sad that his dad went crazy from the deaths of his family. It took decades of reminding him that his father was, as Michael put it, a shitty dad for Evan to finally start believing it. William embodied the saying, 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'

While the kids were consoling Evan, Henry had taken their distraction to study Gregory from afar. Those piercing, silver eyes and pale complexion were unmistakable: somehow, the boy had been given Remnant. So young, his body was already forever changed, cursed with immortality that Henry was certain the boy didn't understand. The fact that William thought Gregory was Evan added the missing context of why it'd happened.

Just like Henry wanted to preserve his daughter after her death, so too did William want to preserve his own children. However, Henry had taken the route of creating lifelike androids while his old friend chose a much darker path involving sacrificing innocent lives for others—and for that, Henry would never forgive him.

Henry clenched his fists and looked to the floor, for a moment seeing Gregory as yet another failure lost to William's madness. If only he'd stopped the crazed man earlier, maybe Gregory would still be a normal boy...

It wasn't long before Gregory caught the stare of Henry Emily. The glower aimed at the state of his appearance was clear: he recognized what happened to him. Gregory realized maybe his appearance was far graver than he previously thought. He was probably going to find contacts after they leave this stupid place.

Oh crud, Henry thought when Gregory finally caught his gaze. The last thing he wanted was to upset the traumatized kid who'd undoubtedly been through things Henry couldn't even dream of.

“Hey, Michael,” Henry murmured, subtly gesturing for the man to join him as he walked a little farther from the group. Michael did as instructed, leaning in so they wouldn't be overheard when they were a sufficient distance away. Henry bit his lip before speaking again. “Okay, no judgement on whatever happened, but I just need you to tell me... was Gregory injected with Remnant?”

Michael winced, the blatant fact a stab of regret right through his heart. He nodded, eyes cast to the floor as he explained: “He was literally alone for five minutes—William rigged an old Fredbear plush with needle that sprung when it was squeezed, and Gregory picked it up.”

“Fucking bastard,” Henry hissed, and Michael's eyebrows shot up at hearing such pure, unadulterated rage from his uncle. Ignoring this reaction, Henry gripped Michael's arm with a heavy sigh. “Alright, well, just... keep watch on him, okay? I'm sure you know by now what that stuff can do.”

“Already on it,” Michael responded, now looking over to Gregory. As his eyes fell on the fatherly bear next to him, Mike gasped as an idea struck. “Hey, Uncle Henry, can we take Freddy's body up with us? Just so we don't have to worry about it later?”

“Of course—actually, you should do that soon.” Henry lifted his wrist to check his nonexistent watch, giving a strained chuckle at the instinctive gesture. “We want to make sure we get this whole thing done before daybreak.”

“Agreed—be right back.” Michael flashed Henry a grin, then hurried over to the group again. “Alright guys, as much as I hate to cut this reunion short, we should really be getting back to check on Charlie and drag you know who back down here.” He paused, turning his eager expression on Gregory and Freddy. “We've got a detour to make first, though.”

“Where are we… OH!” Gregory remembered the present promised to his father. Gregory’s hands were quick to grasp Freddy’s arm in an attempt to tug him forward. Much to everyone’s surprise, the kid actually managed to shift Freddy’s weight a slight degree.

“Come on, Dad!” he exclaimed before waving to the Afton siblings and Cassidy. “It was nice meeting you! Let’s hang out after we beat up that rabbit!”

Cassidy shot Gregory a wry smirk and Elizabeth pressed her hand over her chest. She was touched by his words, no matter how minuscule. The Afton daughter never thought she’d make a new friend after all these years alone and looking the way she did.

“Take care, you guys!” As Michael walked past, Lizzie grasped him by the back of the shirt to pull him in for one more hug. “You especially, little brother.”

“Har har—laugh it up while you can, sis,” Michael said with a roll of his eyes, turning to slip his arms around the large animatronic’s waist without question. “Charlie will get you out of there in no time. You too, Evan.”

The promise was firm and honest as Michael moved from one sibling to the next, crouching down to hug the golden Freddy suit around the neck. It only took a second for an oversized paw to raise up and pat him on the back.

“Okay, Mikey; see you soon!” Evan said, much more cheerful that he’d sounded earlier. When Michael stood again and made his way over to those by the door, Evan raised his paw in a wave. “Bye!”

The group waved in return, then headed out in the door they’d come in with Henry in the lead. As they walked he looked around curiously, squinting in the shadows.

“It’s not too far from here—just some pathways that are easy to get lost in. I swear Ennard was around though—ah!” Henry gripped at his heart, jumping slightly when the hulking figure suddenly shifted towards them at the mention of their name.

Henry had long-since come to terms with Ennard’s presence and its weird quirks of obsessing over Michael while simultaneously being unnerved by Elizabeth. Honestly, Henry was probably the one who actively tried to speak to Ennard the most out of everyone in the basement… although it wasn’t necessarily often he tried to converse.

Glancing side-long at Michael to see him tensed and glaring at the mass of wires, Henry asked tentatively: “I’ve got to know… what’s with the carpet?”

“I told them to be quiet if they insisted on following me around,” Michael muttered after a weary sigh.

Ennard raised a lurching appendage to give a jaunty wave to the group. They were happy to see them again, all while Gregory sought to help Michael explain. “Ennard tore of a bunch of the carpets to make a stealth skin…”

With a deep and distorted breath, Ennard pneumatically hissed out: “IT WAS THE PERFECT CRIME…”

Besides, it seemed that since then they and Michael were becoming fast friends!

Or that’s how Ennard saw it, anyway.

Together through the narrow passageways and maintenance rooms they would return back to Henry’s personal workshop. Those special storage cabinets sat closed, preserving the sanctity of Elizabeth, Evan, and Charlie’s extra android forms. One cabinet with an unfamiliar face was soon opened for Henry’s guests to view. The made-up man with soft, neutral features and shut eyes leaned sleepily behind the glass, patiently in wait of a personality to pilot him.

Gregory let go of Freddy’s hand. When they were powered down, the androids had an uncanny feel to them—lifeless and still like a corpse.

“Is that...?” Gregory begun to ask, but was unsure on how to phrase the question.

Freddy’s gift? Freddy’s new body? Was this Gregory’s new father?

“I didn’t have a base model for this one so… I hope it’s to your liking,” Henry said, wringing his hands together nervously. Michael lingered next to him in the doorway, giving Freddy and Gregory an opportunity to examine the android on their own. There was every possibility for the pair not to like the body Henry had so painstakingly created, and Mike could feel his uncle’s anxiety spiking in tandem with his.

“It is… That is to say, I…” Freddy seemed to be at a loss for words as he gazed upon the sleeping face that was to be his own.

The concept that he would actually have to leave the body he’d known since being powered on in favor of one completely unfamiliar was something that’d crossed his mind earlier, but it hadn’t quite hit him until this moment. He reached out and ever-so-gently cupped the android’s cheek, amazed at how human it felt—just like Charlie and Michael, anyone looking upon Freddy in this form would have no idea his insides were metal and wires.

“This is astounding, Henry,” Freddy eventually managed to say, moving his hand to twirl one of the striking orange locks of hair between his fingers. It would certainly be a huge adjustment, the full ramifications of which Freddy didn’t have time to dwell on right now, but he knew he’d be happy in this body when the time came.

However, in the bear’s mind his opinion on the matter came second. Glancing down at his son with a questioning expression, Freddy placed a paw on Gregory’s shoulder. “What do you think, superstar? Does it suit me?”

Gregory realized that Freddy may not even want to change. If he didn’t, Gregory would find a way to stay at his side regardless; the two of them worked out worse problems before.

But when he witnessed the sheer astonishment cross Freddy’s face, Gregory reached forward and held onto the false human’s hand. He lifted it gently and watched it flop back to its side when he let go. It felt real. If he squinted, he could even say that people might assume they were potentially related—though this might be wishful thinking on his part.

After a short moment of inspecting it, Gregory let out an encouraging laugh. “We could put a top hat on him. I don’t think I could tell the difference then!” He turned back to Freddy, wide-eyed and eager. “I think what matters most is if you like it or not.”

Gregory didn’t want to influence him too much. Even if the creation of Mr. Emily was everything he wanted in a dad. Strong and kind in appearance—though Freddy’s personality alone was all of that and more.

Ennard, standing silently behind the group, quietly clinked their hands together. They would likely never express this out loud, but the amalgamation would be happy to take this android for a disguise should Freddy reject it.

“I think it is perfect,” Freddy answered truthfully, giving his son a bright smile that he soon turned on the others by the door. “Thank you, Henry. I do not think I can ever fully express my gratitude for this…”

“Don’t say another word, Fredbear,” Henry said with a chuckle, his whole body visibly relaxing. He liked to think he wouldn’t have taken it personally if they didn’t approve, but he probably would’ve. However there was clearly no need to worry, and he walked over to Gregory and Freddy with a pep in his step.

Upon reaching them, Henry carefully tilted the powered-down android’s head forward just enough for them to see the back of its neck. There was a thin, barely-visible line at the base of its skull that looked like nothing more than a faded scar. Henry pointed to this, telling the group:

“The control panel is here; just peel back the skin to get to it.” He winced apologetically, realizing how gross that sounded. “The data cable is in the back of the thigh so you can plug Freddy in when you’re ready. It should just be a simple data transfer, which I know Michael’s done dozens of times.”

“Gregory and I will get you all sorted out,” Mike reassured, amiably patting Freddy on the back. 

“Yeah! Mike already taught me so much about you guys,” Gregory assured Freddy in a giddy voice. He was excited for his dad, and couldn't wait to see how he'd react to his latest upgrade. After pressing a hidden compartment on the android’s leg, the exterior panel popped open to reveal a wound up and thin cord. He took stock of this before closing the hatch. At least this one came with his own data transfer link. Older models like the Puppet would have to find a separate one.

“You're in good hands, Dad,” Gregory assured. He looked up to Michael, eyes and smile wide. Everyone at the foster home would be appalled by their own jealousy, Gregory thought. They wouldn't even be able to stomach the fact that his dad was a cool rock star robot, potentially exploding their minds.

“ANYONE... CAN B-BE-BE BECOME AN ANDRIOD..?” Ennard cautiously asked Henry, their carpeted arm brushing against the shorter man as they came to stand beside him.

Henry glanced side-long at Ennard with a slight crease in his brow. He then looked to Michael, who’s android had been made based on the last time Henry saw him “alive”, which wasn’t long before he’d gotten scooped—meaning this was essentially the body Ennard had piloted around for a week. Henry couldn’t stop a shiver as he tried hard not to think about how the fuck this hulking mass next to him fit inside an average, early-20s human even with all its organs removed...

Trust William to make a creature with such a horrible purpose as capturing children to extract their Remnant, yet all it really wanted to do was be free. Watching Ennard now as they stared at Michael and his friends with a palpable sense of longing, Henry just felt… sad.

“Anyone,” Henry replied, offering Ennard a tiny smile. It seemed like he already had his next project decided on, though he’d keep this one under wraps. Henry had a feeling his eldest nephew would not appreciate it, no matter how good the intentions were.

“Henry said we can take Freddy’s new body upstairs and stash it in his charging pod in the back room,” Michael was explaining to the pair next to him. He raised an eyebrow at the bear, gesturing to his “sleeping” android. “Mind carrying it?”

“Not at all,” Freddy replied, and Michael helped him get the body situated. Freddy ended up carrying it piggy-back style, the arms draped loosely over his chest as the head rested on a shoulder pad. The legs were gripped tightly in Freddy’s paws to ensure the precious robot wouldn’t fall during transport. “Alright, I am ready. Gregory, please stay by Michael’s side as we travel.”

It was true: Ennard was lonely. Despite having three different personalities to intermingle inside one body, after a while even that gets lonely as well. They couldn't entertain children—not after what they’d seen Circus Baby do to Elizabeth. With no purpose and no friends, Ennard was alone...

Then Michael showed up!

He said he wanted to help them. Mike fixed their sparking wires. He cleaned their dusty casings and tried hard to refrain from shocking them.

He did help them. Coming back each day with his promise nearly fulfilled…

And they even kept their promise to him: he didn't die.

Eventually, his hospitality wasn't enough, and Ennard could tell Mike's neighbors knew something was terribly, horribly wrong. So, it was best if people forgot about Circus Baby's Rentals, prompting Ennard to slip into the shadows for years.

When Henry admitted anyone could have an android, Ennard clasped their hands together, looking at Mike, Gregory, Freddy and his new body with a sparkle in their mechanical eyes.

“Hey Ennard!” waved Gregory, garnering the robot's full attention before grasping Mike’s hand for safety. “Can you lead the way for us?”

“ENNARD CAN HELP...” they replied slowly, meticulously attempting to make themselves sound softer and heartfelt. They wanted to help so badly.

“We appreciate your assistance,” Freddy was sure to tell the amalgamation, offering them a smile as he adjusted the limp body on his back.

Michael shot Ennard a warning glare, though this could've meant anything from “If you mess this up I will personally decommission you” to simply “I hate your mechanical guts.” He then turned to Henry, his face softening into an appreciative smile.

“Thanks so much for everything, Uncle Henry.”

“Please—it's really the least I can do,” the bearded man replied, adjusting his glasses in mild embarrassment��he'd received more thank you's and praise over the past three days than he'd heard in years. He pulled Michael into a brief side hug, then released him and crouched to Gregory's level, arms resting casually on his knees. He smiled at the boy, though it didn't quite reach high enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “You be as safe as you can, alright, Gregory? Don't take after Michael here and do reckless things just for the hell of it.”

Mike rolled his eyes in fond annoyance, though he couldn't argue with his uncle's words. He admittedly wasn't the best influence, especially when it came to taking risks.

Gregory hadn't had the heart to explain that one moment of having his guard down had already cost him his humanity. While he wasn't entirely sure what the Remnant would do to his body in the long run, Gregory would try to live cautiously—even if he could potentially heal himself faster. Gregory met Henry’s eyes with a stare before giving him a tight-lipped nod.

“I'll be extra careful for us both, Mr. Emily,” Gregory said, his tight smile relaxing into something more genuine the more he spoke. “Thank you for giving my dad your robot!”

Moving for the exit, Ennard looked into the hall for any rogue robots. The strange patterns on their body was sure to distract as much as confuse. This hardly mattered anyway, as it worked to scare off anything willing to hurt the found family that had been working to destroy their evil master.

Despite their cautious pace, the group arrived back in Freddy's room in record time. Thankfully, they hadn't encountered any wayward bots along the way, and the only issue they'd had was trying to squeeze everyone in the elevators despite Michael's insistence that Ennard really didn't need to join them. Still, they made it out alright even if Freddy nearly got smacked in the face by Michael's flailing hand when Ennard tried to “hug” him around the waist again.

Before long they were in the storage area behind Freddy's room. The bear reverently set his new android in the charging pod, making sure it was secure from falling over before closing the door. With only a porthole's width of view, the body looked like it was in some sort of sci-fi cryo-sleep, waiting to be woken up as soon as the danger had passed. Really the group supposed that wasn't too far off from their current situation.

“We should check in with Charlie,” Michael stated as the group moved back into Freddy's room. He flopped down on the couch, laying across it and taking up as much space as possible as he unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt.

While Michael fiddled with the device, Freddy turned to Ennard who was lingering in the corner underneath the vent. He tilted his head questioningly, asking the robot in a tone that implied no ill-will: “Are you staying in here with us, Ennard?”

“Ugh, Freddy!” Michael groaned, pausing with his hand over the button to call Charlie as he shot the bear an exasperated look. “Give me a break...”

“GLADLY,” Ennard replied with as much enthusiasm as three uncoordinated hosts in one body could muster. “WE COULD WATCH THE VENTS... MAKE SURE NOTHING IS TRYING TO GET IN...”

Ennard mentioned the very real danger that things could be lurking in the shadows tonight for them. The stakes were higher than ever, and there plan would be just to sit and wait outside Freddy's own air duct until it was time to head back downstairs. Nothing would get past them!

“Actually—that's a good idea, Ennard,” Gregory praised, noting Michael’s utter annoyance with the obsessive clown. “We'll be right here. I'll call for you when we're going to start the plan!”

Ennard nodded, feeling dizzy with the positive attention they were receiving now from the group. “GOODIE.”

They were on the verge of shouting, their voice somewhat grating like nails on chalk before thick tendrils lifted the heavy body inside the ventilation shaft.

“Thanks, kid; that should keep them busy for a while,” Michael muttered once Ennard was out of sight, turning his head to flash Gregory a sideways grin. Laying on his back on the couch, he held the walkie-talkie close to his mouth and clicked the microphone on. Harsh static instantly emitted from the tiny device until Michael's voice cut through. “Hey, Charlie? Come in—just checking on you guys.”

***

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[chaoscheebs]

Mm, yes, you know a fandom has latched into my brain when the inevitable “but what would their P4-style Shadows/Personas be?” question wafts into my brainmeats.

Which means, welcome to Yu-Gi-Oh Persona Hell, in which my brain decides, if Yugi was tossed into the TV World with the Millennium Puzzle, the result would be both he and Atem (who suddenly has a body because Weird Shadow Bullshit(tm)) both get to face their Shadows!

Yugi handles it shockingly well, because he’s self-reflective enough to know he’s a bubbling mass of suppressed rage and hurt under the surface.  His Shadow is borderline feral with rage in a very “we’re tired of being nice, we wanna go apeshit” kinda way, and Yugi is like... “yeah, pretty much.”  Because he is angry.  He’s pissed about how he’s been treated by his peers.  He’s pissed how people treat his friends (e.g. lookin’ at you, Jounouchi’s dad).  He’s pissed there are people who look at the unfairness of the world and go “that’s just how it is” and do nothing, or worse, use it to justify being shitty.

But Yugi’s also like, “but that’s what’s kept me going.  That’s what drives me to be a kinder person.  Someone has to take the first step to making things better, and it might as well be me.”  And his Shadow never goes Full Blown Symbolic Horrorterror(tm) as a result.

Atem’s experience?  ... not as peaceful.  He is a writhing mass of insecurity under the surface and the lack of firm identity makes it 500 times worse.  His Shadow looks like he was as a Pharaoh, but... constantly shifting, like multiple layers of a picture being moved in and out of place all at once, like it has anime afterimages even when it’s standing perfectly still, speaking with multiple out of tune voices,  like the voices of the people sacrificed to make the Millennium Items are trying to speak with it in an out-of-sync chorus.

Poor Atem, he can’t deny or accept his Shadow, because who is he, really?????  Is the past he’s forgotten one as horrible as the literally ill-defined Shadow is making it out to be?  Is it lying?  He doesn’t know, he can’t possibly know, and he just... kinda breaks down trying to sort it out and that waffling does make his Shadow go Full Blown Symbolic Horrorterror(tm).

Congrats, Atem!  Your Full Blown Symbolic Horrorterror(tm) Shadow is a big outline of you!!!!  WIth a hole where your face is!!!  And where your heart is!!!!  And swirling, howling, shifting forms of the people sacrificed to make the Millennium Items rising and falling like waves about it!!!!!  Mostly likely all adorned with gold decorations!!!  \8D/

Good thing the others are probably not to far behind to protect you from it, Atem, plus Yugi 100% accepts his Shadow and pleads with it to help him help you.

Yugi’s new Persona, by the way, is 100% Agi-based, i.e. fire-elemental.  Because.  Y’know.  There was a lot of people being set on fire in the early days of the manga.  Lolol.  Want to say it’s Anubis, because further lolol, but will do research later.  Yugi is 100% the squishy wizard type, too, and possibly a navigator-type.

If Atem can ever resolve things with his Shadow, I don’t know what the resulting Persona’s name would be, but it’s 100% dark attribute.  Because also lolol Yami.

Have not sorted out anyone else’s stuff, aside from Seto’s Full Blown Symbolic Horrorterror(tm) Shadow would be a horrible skeletal dragon with a puppet-like version o0f him dangling from a string on his arm and a collar and leash around his neck connected to the rib-bones, while puppet-him clutches a doll that suspiciously looks like Mokuba protectively with its free arm, and the resulring Persona (which would take FOR-FUCKING-EVER to happen because Seto is in denial of any weakness) would be light-element, because lol dark attribute’s weakness and weak to dark itself.

Also, one last note: Atem does get spit out of the TV world after being rescued still with a body.  It.  Takes getting used to.  Grandpa Muto is surprised but takes it in stride; he grandson gets caught up in the weirdest things sometimes.

... and I’m dome for now.  Hi, Persona 4 had a really fucking cool concept for character-building in Shadows and Personas.

[luteofthunder]

Look, I know there’s going to be animation, practical vs cgi, soulless cashgrab arguments about it. I get it. But at least they look like they’re trying to replicate it faithfully.

Animation: You all realize that the original film was 3D animated akin to Pixar, right? I personally see no difference between the old and new Toothless aside from a texture revamp. Yes, there’s less to animate because the humans in the original are replaced by actors. Same medium, different time, more advanced technology. I’m not saying the original looks bad, they both have their quirks.

I haven’t practiced animation (or drawing in general really… goddamn art block) in a long time, but the love is still there.

Practical vs CG: I agree! I hope they use a healthy mix of practical effects AND CG! Just remember that they both have their time and place in film. Practical effects in this instance would be better for ‘Hero shots’ (ie close-ups of dragons/props/environments) where they need high detail. Remember that in the original Jurassic Park, the raptors (when they were moving fast) and most full body shots were CG! (7:00)

The Triceratops that was sick was practal effects with puppeteers! Something like this would be great for when we are introduced to Toothless when he’s tied up, then cuts to CG when he explodes out of the cut trap and flees.

Practical/CG Hybrid could be used with close- ups of the dragon’s faces like they used for the Wild Things in ‘Where the Wild Things Are’. (8:50-end) Full puppets for scenes with slower movements, but have faces added in post to really kick up the scene.

Yeah, it’s a cash grab. I won’t argue there. But I feel like Dreamworks is done with beating the dead horse that are the Shrek (or should be, since it looks like we’re getting a Shrek 5 in like a year and Kung-fu Panda franchises. And quite frankly, I see Dreamworks as the lesser of two evils. I don’t believe for one second that their rainbow capitalism was from any kindness on their end. Owl House was canceled WAY before its time.

This is Dreamworks’ first foray into a live action remake.

Disney meanwhile has been shoveling dozens down our throats for decades and I’m tired of the mediocrity.

I’m mostly poo-pooing the sheep and llama when it comes to the Minecraft movie, the realistic textures on a blocky character doesn’t look good to me, but upon seeing the second trailer, the bees, chickens and wolves are adorable. If you’re quick, you can get a glimpse of the villagers and…. ehhhhhhhhhhh we’ll have to see. But at least the second trailer looks better.

Me @ Warner Brothers rn:

I wanted the reaction of that girl carrying Kevin Hart(?) piggyback but whatever