#shiny-jr things

[icezeebee]

I’m really excited for this project that @shiny-jr is doing! These were some of the scenes that I really liked from the sneak peak, Damnation Vil’s part. There were some bits that I added that was just how I felt while reading it.

[ladyofthebookcase]

do not invite my ass to the google meet i’m straight up gonna look like this the entire time

[nerdytreasuresbyamy]

Hamburger cat, shiny lechonk, bowser jr, machop, rattata

[bumpscosity]

It’s midnight and I should be in bed but I was hit with piranha plant fakemon inspiration so i sketched up these so I wouldn’t forget

Regional variant of Mawile (took major toad inspo since it was the first Mario npc I thought of but I’ll probably change it idk) and an unnamed fakemon that can suck itself in to its shell/planter to zoom around really fast and hit enemies

[deus-ex-mona]

anyways bunnygoro won the poll, so will the people who voted for him please show up to collect your prize~?

[jesslovesboats]

Hello friends, I am back with more reading recommendations for your agonies! Next up we have the long awaited and much requested Sad Boat Fiction list. As with all of my lists, this is NOT exhaustive and there WILL be great books left off, and also you may or may not like these books! I only rec things that I've personally enjoyed or that come highly recommended by trusted friends, but taste in books is incredibly subjective, especially with fiction. If I missed your favorite, please add it in the comments or drop it in my DMs!

Now that I'm feeling more settled in my new job, I will hopefully have a lot more time to make book lists and do more virtual Readers' Advisory. I have lists in the works for women in polar exploration and companion reads for the HBO War series, but if there's something else you would love to see, please send me a message!

Classics of the Genre

At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft

The Terror by Dan Simmons

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

Media Tie-Ins

Who Goes There? (Filmed as The Thing) by John W. Campbell, Jr.

The North Water by Ian McGuire

Cold Skin by Alfred Sánchez Piñol

The Terror by Dan Simmons

Graphic Novels

Whiteout by Greg Rucka

How to Survive in the North by Luke Healy

The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*

*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately

Science Fiction

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin

Antarctica by Kim Stanley Robinson

Romance

Under a Pole Star by Stef Penney

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

My Last Continent by Midge Raymond

Inspired by the Terra Nova Expedition

The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*

The Birthday Boys by Beryl Bainbridge

Terra Nova: A Play by Ted Tally

Antarctic Navigation by Elizabeth Arthur

*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately

Inspired by the Franklin Expedition

The Rifles by William T. Vollmann

Minds of Winter by Ed O'Loughlin

Solomon Gursky Was Here by Mordecai Richler

On the Proper Use of Stars by Dominique Fortier

Literary Fiction

The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett

Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy

We, The Drowned by Carsten Jensen

Inspired by the Classics

The Route of Ice and Salt by José Luis Zárate

Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund

Modern Day Antarctica

How the Penguins Saved Veronica by Hazel Prior

South Pole Station by Ashley Shelby

Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple

Polar and Nautical Horror

Where the Dead Wait by Ally Wilkes

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

Cold Earth by Sarah Moss

The Deep by Nick Cutter

All the White Spaces by Ally Wilkes

Dark Water by Elizabeth Lowry

The Deep by Alma Katsu

Happy reading!

[alanaaii]

ex bf/baby daddy connie who gives you some dick when you ask for it

love your writing :)

Baby daddy connie.☆

my first request!! i’m sorry if i didn’t do it to your liking i had to add a lil bittt.

After rocking connie jr to sleep, you checked the time. It was 8:45pm and you knew connie would be on his way to pick the baby up. It was his weekend and you were ready to go out and live child free for the night. You sat at your vanity dresser as you put the finishing touches of your makeup before you heard a light 3 thumps at the door. “coming!” you opened the door to connie towering over you. As you look up at him you notice his eyes wondering. You were dressed in a oh so short dress it was hard not to. Connie licked his lips before asking, “where you goin’ ma?” you rolled your dolly eyes as you closed the door behind him. “Out. why you in my business?” Connie got closer and muttered under his breath "I can’t know where my babymama going?” His hand sneaked its way up your dress as you let out a small gasp—yet you didn’t stop him.

“constance. go get your son and let me go out.”

You and connie stared at each other for a minute. The tension getting hotter by the second. The burning you felt inside was like lava in your stomach. “i don’t want you goin nowhere” Connie said before grabbing you and flipping you onto the bed. Lips pressing together and fighting for dominance. Connie lifting your dress up and massaging your big plump breast.

“conniee” you whine as you feel his fingers press onto your clothed cunt, feeling the wetness through it. “i missed you mama” He said as he dipped his fingers into your soaking cunt. The slowness of his finger thrust was frustrating—you wanted more. You open your legs enough for connie to stand between them. taking his hands away to pull his pretty tanned dick out, slapping it on your clit. “I know you missed me too”

Rubbing his tip on your clit slowly was just to tease you, he wanted you to beg for it.

“con please” you were desperate. needy.

In one quick thrust he was halfway inside. Yiu grabbed onto his arm for support as he sped up his thrusts. His thrusts making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You knew it. nobody could make you feel the way connie did. He started to pound into your dripping wet cunt. A moan escaping your lips as you try to quiet down. Not wanting to wake the baby.

Connie leaned into your ear. “this pussy is mine.” Your mouth was left agape as you tried to speak, the feeling filling you with nothing but ecstasy and pleasure. He repeatedly pounded into you, into the same spot. “connie ‘m gonna-“

Those words only made him speed up his pace. Spitting on your pretty pussy before rubbing it with his thumb. Your stomach turned as you felt your orgasm coming. Before you could say anything you choked on your words as you came on him.

Shiny stars was the only thing you could see. As you covered your mouth, you look down to see your cum stained on his black sweats. Tears filled your eyes as he didn’t stop pounding into you after your orgasm. He was chasing his own.

“fuck..fuck.”

You soon feel him twitch inside of you. He quickly pulled out and stroke himself before shooting ropes on your tummy.

Connie goes into the bathroom and grab a towel, wiping you cleaned before leaning over and kissing you. A little over 15 minutes later you hear the baby cry.

“i got it mama, stay right there”

the next morning…

Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated! ♡

[includingyuu]

Damnation, it was supposed to be the beginning of your end, a final scene fit for a wretched little criminal like you. But, these aren't funeral tolls, and you're being fitted with black clothing meant for royalty. Is this joy born from love, or has your sanity given out under the weight of your despair?

Silly you, love and despair are the same thing! Enjoy your (wip) wedding, little king.

King of Hearts: the sweet, pathetic little darling of the brutal Queen of Hearts. What are hearts for, if not to be ripped out? Thankfully- or woefully -for you, the Queen is delighted to place his bloody organ into your trembling hands!

Dramatics aside, I do truly think that Riddle would love to renew his wedding vows! Especially now that his darling King is acting much more favorably as of late, and besides, surely his precious darling would like to redo their wedding, would you not? This new behavior must imply new tastes, let's make sure this wedding is memorable for years to come!

I did not feel like finishing this ☹, maybe later on! I feel like it's been stewing in my drafts for long enough!

Credits to @/shiny-jr for writing such a great story! And credits to @/unknown-till for the Alice in Wonderland themed dividers!

☹ Do not repost, copy, translate, or steal my artwork! ☹ ☻ BUT reblogs are encouraging! ☻

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.

TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL

I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"

– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

i. Cremation

Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.

It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

And today, it's even more obvious.

The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.

“How many does this make?” 

A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)

You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare. 

“I’m really sorry about all this.” 

The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.

“It’s not your fault, prefect.” 

The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox. 

From: Azul Ashengrotto 

Sender: Vil Schoenheit

Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts

All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.

The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.

“Grim, can you get a fire going?”

“Now?”

He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”

You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult. 

It makes your skin crawl.

After that, you stopped bothering to even  skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?

"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.

You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.

–

When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.

There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses. 

Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat. 

You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?

The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.

To our beloved player,

We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.

~H

The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing. 

The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.

"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back. 

"Nothing." You say.

Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"

"No." 

The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.

And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.

"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.

"Am I making another fire?"

"...if you can, please."

ii. The Morgue

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland. 

Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.

Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.

“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”

It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but... 

You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.

Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.

Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon. 

Your fingertips curve inward and dig. 

You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–

– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.

His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.

"Stop right there, imposter!"

Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.

Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–

–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.

Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities. 

"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–

It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.

It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain. 

The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.

No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.

But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.

Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.

–

Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.

How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute. 

"Ah!" 

You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–

You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–

"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed. 

"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–

"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.

"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place. 

Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose. 

Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them. 

He can't hurt me here. 

Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter. 

It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.

A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter. 

"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.

"I'll ring that up, then." 

The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?" 

Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.

You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.

-

"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols." 

This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.

"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.

"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.

"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."

"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.

The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.

He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.

"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.

"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.

He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."

Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.

"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.

He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call." 

You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–

Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message? 

cay4cay sent a message request

The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?

You groan. This is all too much.

iii. Paying Respects

A letter arrives, but not by mail.

A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance. 

You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks. 

Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.

"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight. 

"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.

"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.

You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.

"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."

You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.

You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.

Date: XX/05

Time: 14:00 - 17:00

A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.

This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?

That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.

You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.

"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.

"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.

"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox. 

"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.

"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."

A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–

"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"

Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.

"-Hey!" 

Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.

"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately. 

"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"

"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling. 

Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag. 

“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”

For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.

“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone. 

"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"

The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.

When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.

–

"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?" 

The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.

"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.

"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."

And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.

“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”

“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.

“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.” 

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit. 

Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.

“Prefect?” 

You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.

Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–

Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”

“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”

You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.” 

“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.

“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”

“R-really?”

"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"

"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours. 

"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?

After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.

"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"

You can't take it anymore. 

“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?” 

Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.

Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.

"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"

More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.

The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.

"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."

“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.

When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.

You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.

You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.

Two can play at that game.

"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.

"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.

"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.

Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.

Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.

–

The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.

"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."

A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.

Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.

The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.

The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion. 

A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.

You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.

iiii. Funeral

It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.

But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.

What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–

"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"

You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."

"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.

Right, who cares about any of that?

You follow your companion through the warped glass.

The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.

And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.

"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.

The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange. 

Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?

“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”

“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"

"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face. 

"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"

"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on. 

But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.

"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear. 

You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.

The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious. 

"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.

"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.

"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"

Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers. 

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.

“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”

You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.

You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.

"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.

Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.

It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.

It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.

It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.

"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"

"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."

Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads. 

“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.

“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield. 

“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.

"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.

"My…name?" You echo back. 

Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.

"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear? 

"[First]. [First] [Last]."

They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds. 

For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.

The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?

By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.

“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.

"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses." 

Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question. 

"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."

“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.

Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react? 

The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.

“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”

It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse. 

“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”

Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house. 

When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see? 

Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?

Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?

It's okay, you reason.

They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.

v. Burial

You have a hunch about Yuu.

Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.

If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?

The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.

It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore. 

Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.

Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now? 

Can you hear me?

The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?

You can hear me, right?

Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.

I'm here–look!

With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.

The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.

I can help you find your way home.

You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.

Listen to what I say carefully…

-

Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.

Outfits? Check.

So why does it feel like there's something missing?

"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.

"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him. 

He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?

"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”

“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.

"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.

Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.

When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.

“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.

You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”

He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.

“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”

He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.

But something feels off.

Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.

He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.

The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.

Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.

"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all. 

"You. Where is [First]?"

It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling. 

"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.

"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair. 

Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair. 

It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.

Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.

“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”

The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.

He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.

“What have we done?”

[daddy-deathslinger]

Oooh, I really liked that killers with a S/O who has a particular perk! May I ask for a reader whose perk is to be able to hide very well/slip away easely? As in, they are quite small and so they can crouch and slip through spaces other survivors can't to go unnotinced! Maybe the killer in question struggles to hook them because they keep slipping from his grasp, but reader never mocks him or anything and just runs away until the end of the trial where they leave an item behind as an apology (Hillbilly, Cannibal, Oni and Deathslinger, if it's not too much trouble! If they are too many, feel free to choose whichever!) Thank youuu 🩷

Hi there! What a lovely request, I hope yer happy with what I came up with! <3

The Hillbilly/Max Thompson Jr with a slippery survivor

Max is good at hunting his prey, and he usually finds them quite easily.

But there’s always one person he struggles to catch. You.

Just when he thinks he’s gotten you cornered, you slip away somewhere. It’s really frustrating! How can you find that many cracks and nooks to sneak off into? 

And his chainsaw can’t do shit once you’re out of sight again. Sure, he can saw through the wooden walls and search for you, but you’re never there.

It’s as if you disappear from the face of the earth.

One time, after a trial had ended and you, as the last survivor left, had probably escaped through the hatch, he had found something. He was going back into his house when he saw something in the mud of the cornfield. 

A necklace. Shiny, must have been made of real gold.

Max had picked it up and examined it, a smile slowly growing on his lips. He knew you wore this kind of necklace, you must have either dropped it or left it here for him to find.

And his heart pointed towards the latter.

The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer with a slippery survivor

Bubba isn’t the best tracker (it must be hard to see anything through that mask of his), but once he finds someone they won’t get away.

Except you, you always manage to get away somehow.

Be it a dark nook you can slip into, a hole that is perfectly shaped for you, or you simply just wiggle out of his grasp just as he’s about to put you on a hook.

You’re usually gone in seconds, he never has a chance to find you again.

This pains him greatly, you know that. He shrieks and yells in annoyance and anger, waving his chainsaw around in the air when he can’t find you anymore.

It almost makes you feel a bit bad.

A bit, only a bit. Enough to make you want to make it up to him somehow.

Not through sacrificing yourself though, gods no! But sometimes you leave behind small gifts for him to find.

It can be anything, really. A nice can you found in the cornfields, a bracelet that was buried in the mud. One time, you left a doll inside the house in the cornfields, knowing he would find it there after the trial.

You can only hope your little gestures are appreciated.

The Oni/Kazan Yamaoka with a slippery survivor

Kazan is a great tracker. Always has been.

He can smell blood a mile away, and see it as clear as red, shimmering pearls on the ground.

Naturally, prey have a hard time hiding from him once he has injured them.

And yet, there’s one he just can’t seem to ever catch.

This prey just vanishes from his sight the second he has injured them. It’s like they don’t even bleed! Sure, he can find trails of blood here and there, but it never leads him anywhere.

It drives him mad! If you’re in a trial these days, he’s almost certain he’s gonna leave with only three kills. You always seem to find the hatch as well, so.

Sometimes, Kazan finds things.

Things in places it’s never occurred to him to look before, but when he does he always finds a surprise.

It can be a hair tie, or even something of great worth, like a ring or earring. 

Once he found a little crocheted doll, with black buttons for eyes.

He doesn’t know where these things appear from, but something tells him they appear from the same source that so easily disappears. And that thought is a bit amusing to him, it almost brings a smile to his lips at times.

The Deathslinger/Caleb Quinn with a slippery survivor

Caleb is a proud man, that much you know.

He hates losing, and losing is exactly what he does these days whenever you’re in a trial.

His swearing can be almost amusing at times, when you peek out from a hiding place and see him frantically search for you. He never finds you, and eventually gives up.

You’ve lost count of all the times you’ve gotten the hatch.

All that being said, you make sure to never taunt him. 

You don’t want to rub it in his face, he’s only doing his job here. And so are you. It’s nothing personal.

During the last trial, you had decided to try something a bit different. You had been tinkering on things at the campfire for a while, your latest project was carving a butter knife out of a piece of wood.

It wasn’t particularly pretty, but you liked it.

You had decided to leave it behind for Caleb to find, as a little gift for all his troubles catching you. 

So, you had left it inside the Dead Dawg Saloon, at the bar. Then, you had hid.

When the rest of the gang had escaped, and Caleb eventually got back to the saloon with heavy steps, he had found it.

You had watched as he had taken the butter knife in his hand, weighed it (why would you weigh a butter knife??) and examined it. 

You will never forget the smile on his lips, as he had whispered: “What in the goddamn…” and put the knife in his jacket pocket before leaving.

[otomes-world]

I wake up with impostor twst idea (belongs to @shiny-jr). I'm not sure if I have to tag you, 'cause it's just a babble(?) but here we go, I guess.

What if we combine it reincarnation manhwa trope? What if character suddenly open his eyes in theoretically past with knowledge of future. Some kind of second chance. Of course in the end it's going to be "a dream", because you know, fo angst purposes and it's too easy way out of everything they did.

He opens eyes after crying himself out last night. Nothing works, you're scared and had closed the path to your heart forever. It's fair and in the same time not. He understands that he has done something irreparable, but isn’t the awareness of his own guilt and the desire to atone for it enough? Deep down he knows that no, you will never forgive him. However, he was always stubborn, probably too much, but he was not going to give up. Not when the sight of you was so close, almost at arm's length.

Imagine his surprise when, on a seemingly ordinary morning, he receives news about Yuu’s shutdown. This can't be true. Or can? Were all the tears shed, all the panic and animal fear of losing you, rage for the imposter who dared to pretend to be you was in vain? Did these feelings never exist? Or is it a second chance, a chance to become worthy, to stand next to you.

If this is so, then he will cling to it with his nails, claws, everything he has - he will not allow it to slip away - and this time he will definitely achieve his happily ever after.

It’s ironic to watch the chaos slowly unfolding from “losing” you a second time. He understands the feelings and emotions of others, but at the same time he cannot contain the feeling of such a close victory. Advantage. After all, he should have been lucky at least once in his life.

He is looking forward to the next shock in the form of the appearance of an impostor. This time he will do everything to a t. No, he's not going to appear right away. He will allow doubts to creep into your soul, wait until your faith in others will shaken. Don’t think, he won’t let even a hair fall from your head, but a little fright won’t hurt, right? For dramatic reunion purposes.

He will allow others to distract Grimm and appear at the most crucial moment, casting a shield for both of you. Your eyes are full of surprise and suspicion, fair enough. He helps you get to your feet, ignoring the shocked gasps and distant cries of 'traitor'. You're most important thing right now and you are too exhausted and scared. He will accompany you to the dorm, help you calm down and hold your hand until you feel better. Along the way, he told how he didn’t believe the rumors and decided to see for himself.

Does this make him a liar? Probably, but does it matter? After all, you no longer look at him with eyes full of disgust and fear, you see in him someone more than a character in the game. A savior and a possible ally, a friend, eventually someone special, but he's not going to rush you.

The feeling of triumph is so close that waking up the next morning almost crushes it with its weight. Surely, he was too naive. Fate just decided to laugh at him, right? However, this imagined future, 'what if', gave him enough motivation to continue. Because now he saw, experienced, what he was striving for.

[barblaz-arts]

I can't sleep, so here's a post about each of their Pokemon's personalities/backgrounds. Btw I like names following themes, so Wednesday's pokemons are named after classic authors, while Enid's are references to kpop groups. Whether they exist or not in their pokemon universe is totally up to you to hc

Gothita

Nickname: Agatha

-basically Wednesday jr. If W hates being considered her mother's mini me, Agatha takes pride in it

-bit of a lil shit. Provokes Enid's pokemons, especially the Riolu

-was a gift from Morticia. W was reluctant to have another pokemon after the death of her skorupi, but W soon grew attached to her. This is also why Agatha is a bit of a "momma's girl"

Murkrow

Nickname: Jane

-thinks this whole feud over Mimikyu is a lil dumb

Duskull

-tried to get W lost in the forest, was invited into her team instead

-willingly went along before even getting caught by a pokeball when she learned that she gets to have a shiny lil brooch for it

-wants to befriend Enid and her Eevee but both were scared of her at first

-treats Mimikyu like a little brother

Nickname: Emily

-very shy

Riolu

Nickname: Luna

-used to be Esther's

-is unable to tune into Aura due to some defect and is having trouble evolving

-was going to be discarded for that but Enid took her in instead

-very competitive

Growlithe

Nickname: Velvet

-is the big sister figure for the team(even W's, no matter if Agatha and Jane deny it)

-very protective of Enid. WILL bite Wednesday. HAS bitten Wednesday

Eevee

Nickname: Zwei

-always a lil nervous, especially around ghost types

-was a parting gift from Enid's father before she went on her journey

Mimikyu

Nickname: TBA

-likes to steal. Mischievous lil guy.

-likes stories, whether it's Wednesday's WiP novel or Enid's gossips

-is supposed to be this AU's equivalent to Thing

[americanhoney913]

I'm obsessed with Hazbin Hotel and Pokemon, so I just had to give everyone teams! I didn't want to give anyone specific types but things to fit both their personality, growth, and just Pokemon I thought they'd have.

Explanations below:

Charlie's main Pokemon is her Umbreon, to represent KeeKee, and Dreepy to represent Razzle and Dazzle. Hisuian Typhlosion is said to purify spirits before leading them to the afterlife but can also unleash those spirits when they're enraged. Quaxly and Mime Jr. are just fun little nods to Charlie's love of dance and Mime Jr. can also learn the move Sing. I imagine them singing and dancing along with her.

Vaggie's main Pokemon is actually her Absol. I was going to make it her Iron Valiant, which I believe all Exorcists would have, but I wanted to do something different for her. I gave her Pokemon that have weapons and a moth to call back to her earlier designs. Her Espeon is a parallel to Charlie's Umbreon. Because they might be the reverse in personality, you still have Heaven (the sun) and Hell (moon).

Alastor was difficult to give Pokemon to since he's such an enigma. His main Pokemon would be a Rotom that inhabits his microphone. Skeledirge has a microphone and is a ghost type. I'd imagine the Skeledirge has is much more malicious than is typical of its species. Dedenne is another Pokemon that I'd link to radio waves while Froslass and Runerigus are "evil" Pokemon. Runerigus even has strange tentacles like Alastor does. Unfortunately, there are no evil deer Pokemon but Autumn Sawsbuck are the most aggressive of the four seasons.

Angel Dust was a fun one to create. Because he's such a complex character. My first thought was to give him waifu Pokemon from different regions but I didn't want to focus on that aspect of him. Or just give him all spider Pokemon. So I focused on the Pokemon he might surround himself with. His main Pokemon is, obviously, his shiny Lechonk to represent Fat Nuggets. His Ariados plays on the fact that he's a spider but is also a poison type Pokemon. Togepi and Sylveon are both fairy types and Pokemon linked to empathy and feelings. Morelull could be the closest nod to shrooms or other drugs since it's, you know, Pokemon. I gave him a Mawile because it's feminine Pokemon with a scary bite.

Oh, Niffty. The funniest idea would be to give her an all bug team. But that would be mean to the bugs. Her Scyther is her main Pokemon because it's a bug but also has sharp knife hands. So I gave her a Joltik as her one bug Pokemon as a connection to bugs and Alastor. Her Minccino is another Pokemon that evokes the part of Niffty that's the hotel's maid. Mimikyu is just a creepy Pokemon that hides behind a cute look. And I just threw in Tyranitar because Niffty would have an insanely strong Pokemon that's a little crazy.

Yeah, unlike the others, I did give Husk mostly cat Pokemon, but they all fit his personality or the idea behind his character. His main Pokemon is his Meowscarada because it's a magician, just like Husk. Meowth represents the more regal yet greedy Overlord he used to be. His Torracat has very similar colors to Husk with the black and red. His Litwick reminds me of the magical lights Husk put up and were lit with Charlie's magic and his Purrloin represents his deviousness regarding his Overlord days. His Rookiedee represents his wings and chivalry when it comes to some of the characters later in the show and his steel exterior.

Sir Pentious was obviously going to have some snakes on his team but I also wanted to give him some steel types and psychic for his high intelligence and love of engineering. His main Pokemon is his Steelix. It's snake-like but in-your-face snake. He has an Arbok but it's not his main Pokemon. He has Exeggucte to represent the Egg Boiz, but also kind of Togedemaru since it's friend-shaped but spikey. Metang and Golurk represent things that have been created/man-made, which is his thing.

Cherri Bomb was fun because most of her Pokemon know the move Explosion. Her main Pokemon is her Camerupt, which shares her personality. Her Golem and her Electrode are for the whole, you know, bomb thing Cherri's got going on. Her Cherubi and her Hattrem are the more feminine Pokemon on her team but her Hattrem likes to terrorize people just like she does. Her Magnemite has the single eye like she does and also explodes.

Lucifer was really fun because I was originally going to try to give him Pokemon to match the forms that he changes into during the fight with Adam but then rethought the plan. Obviously, he needs to have an Applin for the forbidden apple that will eventually become a Hydrapple. And a Ducklett because of his love for ducks. It was between Ducklett and Psyduck but I thought the cuteness of the small Ducklett just makes me think of Lucifer putting a top hat on it. Lucifer's main Pokemon is actually his Hisuian Zoroark, which is the Baneful Pokemon. I was going to have his main be his Seviper but him being tossed out of Heaven and retreating into isolation and shadows once Lilith left him just fit Hisuian Zoroark. Spiritomb has evil spirits inside it which I think matches Lucifer being in charge of the evils of the world. And Lucario is based of Anubis, who is the guide of the dead to the Underworld.

Thoughts?

[shoku-and-awe]

Do you have a personal ranking of the different convenience stores in Japan? The ones off the top of my head I can think of are 7-11, Lawson, Family Mart, Daily Yamazaki, and Ministop.

This is a great ask, very much my field of interest! But I don't rank them hierarchically so much as.... territorially(? situationally?) because they have different strengths but here it is!

------------------------------ 7-11: The conbini I'm most attached to! Generally has the best bento selection, and also the best-smelling coffee. (All the grind-and-brew coffee machines are basically the same quality, but the 7-11 ones really smell great.)

FamiMa: The best fried chicken! And generally a good chuhi selection. Also has far and away the most iconic jingle, and now I get this absolute bop by Miyachi stuck in my head every time I visit.

Lawson: Best for its special stores! Discount store Lawson 100 was a godsend for groceries and household supplies my first year in Tokyo. And I will stop basically anytime I see a Natural Lawson (aka Natty Law aka Naughty Lad) because they have organic/imported/upscale/health/vegetarian stuff you won't find elsewhere.

Ministop: Great for softserve ice cream and also hotcase and deli items! The deli items feel more homemade than at the Big Three. Also they have halohalo and sticky rice dumplings that I always mean to try.

Daily Yamazaki: Kind of a wild card! These days they have interesting variety and grocery items (the other day I got these kimchis and a liter of unbelievably sweet organic soymilk that was in a plastic bag for some reason), fresh breads/pastries and Japanese sweets, and snacks that aren't major brands. But! Until recently, they were kind of..... hmm. Of the two near me, one was staffed by a very old woman on an oxygen machine who completely ignored you (both things *very* unusual for Tokyo) and one by the absolute tiniest old woman I'd ever seen and a very smiley man who was either her elderly son or somewhat younger husband, both utter sweethearts. The stores were dingy and poorly lit, and the selection was somewhere between basics and bare bones—but also some nights they would sell fresh cream puffs from a French bakery?? Chaotic, kind of a grab bag, some Building 19 vibes (IYKYK). Then in maybe 2018ish, there was a major overhaul and now they are as shiny, well-lit, and antiseptically clean any other chain. If a little less friendly.

New Days: I added this one! Easy to overlook because they're teeny, with a very basic selection, but that's because they're only found inside of JR train stations. I don't think that they're anyone's conbini of choice, but they're there when you need them! (Sometimes.) ------------------------------

Also honorable mentions to Poplar, which I never see anymore (East Tokyo only?), and to Three-F, which seems to have been bought by Lawson, and 🫡 RIP to Sunkus (run by Circle K), which I always liked. When I lived near the red light district, we always used to stop at Tokyo's last surviving Sunkus on our way to see the pharmacy with the goat.

[ghostie-gengar]

three four eight three!!

relationship chart and their swim forms :3

hcs under the cut (ages are as of splat3)

Captain

real name Sango, aka DJ Sango, nicknamed Agent Ick (squid sisters)

she/her, played with he/him during OE

22

robust clubhook squid

splattershot main but can work with anything

pretty chill and stoic but tells really good stories if she's in the mood

loves her girlfriend agent 8 so much and thinks she's the most amazing girl in the world <3

pretty blunt with the rest of the splatoon but with eight she's so warm it's like she's a totally different person (can you tell im obsessed with agent 24)

she sees a lot of herself in Neo but doesn't really know how to talk to them so she just. stares at them

acts fed up with Neo's antics but secretly finds them endearing. likes to pick them up and throw them

huge scar on her eye from being sanitized (the eye glows tho so thats cool) and has various others all over

Agent 4

real name Shoyu, nicknamed Sho (marie) and Four-Brains (captain)

he/him

19

firefly squid

dualies main

his freckles and spots glow! his tentacles are sparkly and so is his ink thanks to a condition he has. it's about as common as freckles

super busy college student trying to balance his hobbies with agent duties and schoolwork

hobbies include video games, music, parkour, clam blitz, and hanging out with his friends

knees are usually scraped

wears mismatched socks

he's a super cool guy, but he tries a little too hard sometimes so he can be kinda cringefail but we love him!!

super nosy and pays a lot of attention to details, mild perfectionism

shortest of the agents other than Neo, but give them like a year and they'll be taller than him

Agent 8

real name Umiko, nicknamed Eighty (captain)

she/her

22

bimac octopus

mains heavy splatling and e-liter

she's shy when you first meet her but she's super sweet and friendly once you get to know her

hides in small spaces when she's scared, easily startled

besties with Four, they play just dance together

she thinks Captain is soooo cool and has a huge crush on her (yes they're dating)

prefers to be called Eight over her real name. only Captain gets to call her Umiko <3

lives with Captain, but stayed at Four's place during splat3

has some burn scars on her back (from failed OE missions) and post side order one of her tentacles is bleached (same side as captain's sanitization scar <3)

Neo Agent 3

real name Trip, aka Inkborn Harbinger Of Destiny, nicknamed Newbie (squid sisters and captain)

they/them

13

bigfin reef squid

splatana main (they modded their splatana wiper to have the firepower of a stamper)

they lie about their age to play turf wars- this led to them being recruited into the NSS

autism swag

they love love love shiny things and also spiderman

looks up to Captain but is also terrified of her

loves it when Captain picks them up and throws them

when they get scared/overwhelmed during missions they go and sit near Captain. they don't even say anything, it's just comforting to be near someone they know has been through worse

had an enormous crush on Shiver until they met her, when she genuinely tried to kill them

has a strong sense of wonder and is fascinated by all that alterna has to offer

the back of their head is fuzzy, and they have various scratches all over

homeless for most of their life, briefly lived with the Salmonids, then was able to snag an apartment with special arrangements for their rent to be cheaper since they're a kid

they scrape by selling the treasure they find in the desert

they see Miso as their equal and treat him like a younger sibling. they get extremely offended when people assume he's their pet, as does he

hates Mr. Grizz with a passion.

Neo Agent 3 Jr.

real name Miso, aka Miso Soup With Tofu And Green Onions With A Side Of Dumplings And Fried Rice, nicknamed Little Buddy (Neo)

he/him

7

smallfry salmonid

was rescued by Neo from Grizzco before he hatched, where Mr. Grizz had full intentions to kill him

he hatched from a special golden egg that glowed brighter than all the rest, it was prophesied that he would leave the salmonids and rise up against a great evil

always hungry, will munch on anything (including Captain's shoes)

extremely loyal to Neo and loves them very much. the two of them look out for each other and live together

he and Neo lived with the salmonids when Neo couldn't nail down a permanent place to live, then they had to leave due to an unfortunate incident with Grizzco.

[shiny-jr]

I'm literally in love with your damnation au! It's so good!! I love your writing style, I would literally get done on one knee for you.

I kinda want to make fanart of your work (specifically our new birb MC's) but I'm a little confused about their clothing? Do you have any references for something they would have worn?

Thinking about raven mc I've been wondering about the construction of their cloak/coat/shawl.

Would it look feathery

Smooth but with a feather design

Or a simple cloak. Also what does the feather in their hair look like. A Quill? Jewelry?

I have the same question for Iago MC.

Oh no, don't get down on one knee–– but asks! I love these type of asks where I can talk about how I developed the mc's outfit and the whole aesthetic. So, I've probably mentioned this before, but I'm a huge Pinterest user. Lots of my stories have their own boards, even drafts of stories I've never spoken about. Unsurprisingly, Damnation has their own board too. Which you should be able to find if you look up "Shiny-Jr" in the profiles. And at the very bottom of each section in the Damnation board, you'll be able to find some inspiration I took from several sources for outfits.

Raven MC is very simple, and the most complex thing about Parrot MC is probably their shawl. However, you and others are free to picture them in whatever way you want! I usually try to give descriptions for the outfit just for references, and so no one's picturing their MC in like crocs and a t-shirt or something. The outfit is meant for them to blend in too, but I'd love to see unique takes on what readers imagine their look/outfits to be like! I mean, if you want to imagine your MC in crocs and a t-shirt, then go for it.