#the first part of animatic was made a long time ago when I had more time

[anotherfandomtrash]

SIX the musical but it’s Kuragins messing everything up as ghosts

[idkhow-but-im-here]

OK OK OK OK OK

I finally finished Good Omens season 2 and I have so many fucking thoughts which I will list in no particular order:

The Doctor Who references are always golden. (somewhat related: that part when Crowley was bullshitting about war regulations in front of Shax & co in the bookshop? super reminiscent of Ten’s speedy sci-fi jargon)

The music, as always, fucking slaps, especially at the end of each episode when the theme is played in a related style I love it so much

Nina and Maggie!!! I do really like them as a ship (coffee shop + record shop? that’s a built-in au fic) but I also like how they’re not actually together at the end. I love how they’re so healthy in how they go about their potential relationship, both acknowledging how messed up it was for Aziraphale/Crowley to meddle with their lives and how dumb it would be to rush into something headfirst regardless of all the shit they had been through both togther and as individuals. Also Fuck Lindsay all my homies hate Lindsay, as much as I liked what they did with visualising her shitty messages (the blackboard and crumpled notepad sheets? because of coffee shop reasons and how Nina’s work and love life was suffocatingly forced together by the incessant behest of Lindsay)

<The dancing/ball/Jane Austen vibes3

Beezelbub and Gabriel!?!? When I first came across this ship on ao3 I thought this ship made somewhat sense but would stay in the realms of fanon yet here I am disproven and I can’t lie… they’re kinda cute together. I was caught off guard (like every other character) but fair dues to them. Their parallels with the ineffable husbands are just ughh *chef’s kiss*

^alpha centauri!!!^

Peter Davison and Ty Tennant??? Their appearances did make me giggle for meta’s sake. Perhaps a Georgia Tennant appearance in season 3? (if they make it please please please say they’ll make it)

WAS CROWLEY ACTUALLY RAPHAEL??? I thought it was just a headcanon/fan theory (which I did fall in love with after watching this beautiful animatic years ago) but Crowley having access to classified files and the Metatron mentioning that an archangel being cast out has happened before??? it’s becoming more and more plausible.

AND JUST PRE-FALL CROWLEY IN GENERAL HE LOOKS SO HAPPY all he ever did was ask valid questions goddamnit (literally). nebulae are very pretty I would also be indignant if they weren’t gonna stick around for long. AND THE PARALLEL TO THE FIRST EPISODE WITH THE WINGSSS

Crowley just being a good nice decent person all throughout time (the goats, children, helping out elspeth, ect) it makes me happy

ANDD Aziraphale’s reactions (both positive and negative) to aforementioned deeds create a great moral foil to Crowley and perfectly builds up to what we see at the end (I’ll probably write about s2 Aziraphale in a different post because man I have so many thoughts)

Crowley’s callbacks to the date lunch at the Ritz!! Him talking to Nina and Maggie about taking Aziraphale to the Ritz again to him pointing out the lack of a nightingale (idk if that was leaning into meta a little but it didn’t bother me) just HURT so damn much

“Emotional damage support angel” you’re damn right he is/was

The battery-powered candles lmfaooo and literally any reference to the fire, including the absurd number of fire extinguishers, had me giggling

Muriel is a goddamned (or not so in some sense) treasure, a little ray of sunshine with a heart of gold and dumb of ass. I adore her and found Aziraphale and Crowley humouring her hilarious.

THE SECOND COMING??? I’m sorry wHAT WE ALREADY HAD THE ANTICHRIST NOW WE’RE DEALING WITH CHRIST CHRIST? YOU CAN’T LEAVE US WITH JUST THAT MR. GAIMAN

and of course the bloody

K I S S

THAT WHOLE SEQUENCE OF CROWLEY FINALLY FINALLY OPENING UP AND JUST BEING WHOLEHEARTEDLY HONEST (going against his predisposition and entire NATURE to lie/omit or walk around the truth)

CONFESSING HIS TRUE FEELING AFTER COUNTLESS MILLENNIA OF PINING EVEN AFTER AZIRAPHALE DROPPED THAT BOMBSHELL

AND HALF STORMING OFF BEFORE GOING BACK TO KISS THE SHIT OUT OF HIM AND THEN FULLY STORMING OFF

with aziraphale clearly unsure of how to react BUT STILL TOUCHES HIS LIPS IN SHOCK AS HE WATCHES CROWLEY LEAVE

That shit had me fully standing up on the sofa, arms in brace position, gasping, screaming, close to tears, indignantly repeating “NEIL GAIMAN!” every couple of seconds

Truly a brilliant scene and a brilliant season overall.

As always the cast, the writers, the set designers, the effects artists, the costumers, the camera crew, everyone who had a part in creating go2 was fucking fantastic.

[outer-andromeda]

Also I realized I haven't made a proper post about Beetlejuice closing on Broadway. And it HAS been like-

*checks computer's calendar*

Almost four weeks since their last show in the Marquis (oh god already!?). So uh- let's do that. Never too late to be emotional amiright.

Long post ahead. Feel free to read if you're up to it. Just a bunch of rambling and venting about the show and more. ✨

—————

—————

Let's start with the beginning.

I'm not gonna lie, the first time I ever heard one of the songs was from a Tiktok video. A cosplay video. With "The Whole Being Dead Thing P. 2" playing. I had no idea the song came from a musical at the time but I remember enjoying it a lot, to the point of leaving the video on loop simply to listen to the beginning bit of the song over and over again. I had no idea where to look for it and didn't try to look for it either so I kind of forgot about it eventually.

Then October 2020 came around the corner. Halloween was approaching. And Mads mentioned Beetlejuice the Musical to me. I was sort of drifting along different fandoms at the time while also trying to figure out myself and do as well as I could in school after the first lockdown... So uh- strange and unusual times indeed. 😭

I wasn't sure what I was getting into. But then I checked Shnikkles's animatic of "Invisible (Reprise) / Say My Name" on YouTube. (I always loved this artist for their work on Steven Universe so I was still following what they were doing on socials.)

And in THAT FUCKING MOMENT. That's when the brainrot began.

And also my embarrassing simping phase for Alex Brightman which turned out to be admiration for the guy... And a lot of gender envy. But but we ain't gonna be talking about that.

After that moment, I started listening to the whole cast recording. FINALLY recognizing the song I had heard months ago on that freaking cosplay video. And then I started drawing the man. After Halloween, both me and Mads made BJsonas based on our Beetlejuice costumes... Which turned out to become, with time and a lot of character and design changes, the Veda and Zeta you know and (hopefully) love.

Then I suggested both girls meeting Beej. Which then turned into an AU. Which then became the Sequel Musical project/concept and which inspired the human AU.

The human AU (later renamed the Feral Fam AU, then the Lawrence AU in current days) was mostly made for comfort. We turned Beej into an anxious, grumpy, touch-starved cuddley guy with strong paternal instincts who was incredibly sweet and soft for the girls but who was in deep denial.

... Which... To be honest, is sorta still the case. 😭 But now the story is a lot more flushed out and has depth and work into it. And Mads and I both love how much the way we portray the guy has changed over the months. We love that he's more than what I described. That he's still a comfort character but he's also still Beej. He still has flaws and he's still an asshole but he's slowly developing into something more as the story keeps going.

(And we love character development in this household heheh >:D)

And thanks to that, Beej became a very important comfort character to me. Beetlejuice the Musical came at a time where things were getting confusing and rough. Where choices had to be made. Where changes were supposed to occur. Where something was ending and I had to move on to something else; in this case, moving on from high school and being a teen, and going to college and learning how to be an adult.

I still feel like a teen. I'm not that good at adulting. But I've matured. I've went through shit, shit that's affected me deeply. But despite everything, I'm still here. And that musical was there every step of the way. The story, the characters, the cast... They unconsciously played a big part in my life and I'll never be too thankful.

I've got to meet new people, try different things, discover new incredible artists that I still follow and admire to this day, some that I can proudly call my friends. It helped me get closer to my partner and finally start dating her (almost 2 years and still going babeyyy).

I've got to be part of an incredible, deeply loving community and I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. I like to think the Beetlejuice fandom feels like another home now. I'm not well known within this fandom. Or atleast I don't think I am. I tend to draw more of the human guy than the bug beverage man himself which isn't something everyone is interested in. But still. I feel at peace here.

And I'm so so grateful I got to discover this musical. So so grateful I got to get close to so many people. So so grateful I got to experience the show before it closed. I am absolutely aware of how lucky I was to get to see it not once, but twice in a row. And the LAST DAMN SHOW.

It was a dream come true. It was the momentum I needed before the Broadway run ended. The ending I needed. I'm still sad it closed, I'll always miss the cast and crew videos of Alex and Elizabeth's bows, Kerry's lipbalm taste testing, backstage videos of the actors just being complete dumbasses and having so much fun...

I'll just miss the Broadway cast and crew so much. It doesn't feel the same without them, even with the Tour going on. It feels like a whole different show when it's the same story (with necessary changes), the same songs, the same characters... But the general vibe isn't the same.

I've been relistening to the cast recording a lot now. Appreciating every song instead of just a few ones. Delia quickly became one of my favorite after seeing the last show (If you know, you know. Leslie fucking KILLED it that night). If anything, every character became my favorite. I started loving them all a lot more than before. Understanding them more than ever. Even Beetlejuice himself, although he's the character I've focused on the most for the past two years. I finally feel like I now have a good grasp on his character, something I've always had trouble with for a long time.

So uh... Boy. This is getting long. Long story short... Thank you. Thank you Beetlejuice the Musical. Thank you to the cast, thank you to the crew. Thank you to the wonderful people I got to meet. Thank you to the friends I got to make. Thank you to my dearest partner. This musical has a very special place in my heart now thanks to all of you.

Hey guys? Love you guys. 💚🖤💚🖤💚

As for BJ content? Well... You can bet your asses I ain't fucking done drawing this man. He's gonna be sticking around for a veeeery long time.

[bokettochild]

Violet

So y'all remember this animatic? Yeah?

I wrote a thing based off of it.

I'm not entirely sure how I fee about it, but y'all have shown how much you like my crack in the past, even if I wasn't sure about that either, so...

Here's Legend getting mistaken for a mom and pulling his brothers into a terrible impromptu acting adventure.

There are many things you do not do in Castletown.

One of those things, apparently, was taking Twilight with you, and next time he had a chance Legend was seriously considering muzzling their wolfish friend, in his shadow form or not.

He wasn’t the only one with that thought either apparently, although likely the only one who was thinking it out annoyance rather than utter and complete terror. Honestly, Twi needed to cut that protective streak of his in half, or he was going to be regretting it even more than he was going to regret this!

They’d all met thieves before, on the road, in villages, even here in Castle Town, and unfortunately Warriors’ central city was particularly full of them. The captain had explained it ages ago, something about the war displacing people and stirring up unrest with the refugees. It wasn't uncommon that someone got tired of relying on the crown for help, which, the captain had admitted sorrowfully, was rather slow in coming, despite all of Artemis’s efforts, to provide any sort of relief to the starving and displaced victims of the war. Legend had winced at that. Poor blokes, it had been similar in his own Hyrule when those trapped in the dark world emerged again, and even back in their Hylian forms, many of them had struggled to readjust to a world that had moved on in their absence.

It was little wonder than that those in the captain’s time faced the same struggle, especially after a bloody time war, but even so, it bothered him to no end that their group specifically had been the one that the idiot of a man chose to target. Honestly! They were all carrying swords for pities sakes! How did the sod even think he was going to catch a bunch of warriors unawares to steal from them?

Maybe it was because they were split.

It only made sense, after being dropped in the captain’s time, that they restock supplies. Both for practicality and to avoid suspicion, they’d divided the group into two to better run their errands, Time taking those less accustomed to bustling cities with him to gather food and potions, and Warriors leading the rest of them, those who could stand crowds at least a little bit better, to visit the blacksmith, fletcher, and tailor shops.

True to form, the captain strutted ahead with his scarf waving behind him, Wind tagging along beside him and chattering excitedly about something or other at the soldier. He and Four, however, had chosen to trail after, not for any particular reason other than both being extremely tired and maybe just a bit emotional.

In his own case, he hadn’t slept in a good sixty-three hours or so, and combining that with the stress of wandering around in an unknown place, he was a little more sensitive than usual and a bit put out as a result. Similarly, Four was fighting off his usual headache from their sudden switch, and ever since they’d pulled themselves out of the alleyway Hylia dumped them in, the shortest hero had worn his hood pulled over his eyes, mumbling softly under his breath in a way that was, unfortunately, unnerving Legend further and making him want, very much, to beg the other to stop.

That wasn’t an option of course, so he did something he hated almost as much as the saunter Warriors was using to get down the road.

He made small talk.

It helped, surprisingly, and while the four of them had run their errands, he chattered amiably with the smithy, who’d been willing to talk as long as he didn’t have to think too much on things. Legend could agree with that, and the two had spent the last half hour discussing if Four’s tunic really was red, green, blue and violet, as the smithy claimed, or red, green, blue and purple as Legend thought it was.

“It’s violet.” Four huffed, pushing the last bundle of arrows into his pack as they departed from the smithy’s shop and made their way back to the fountain at the center of town, where they'd agreed to meet with Time and the others.

“But it’s not!” He insisted, shifting the bundle of fabric in his arms and meeting the smithy’s gaze. “Violet is softer, duskier, a bit closer to grey or blue. That’s purple, plain as day!”

Warriors and Wind, for once, didn’t say anything, only exchanging grins every so often that the other two ignored.

Talking with Four was surprisingly pleasant, and ridiculously easy in comparison to talking with the others. For one thing, neither had to look too very far up or down to see the other, and as they’d found since their first dinner at the ranch, it was easy to say a lot with just a look. Subtle communication also went a long way further with the smithy than with anyone else, and it was a relief not to have to explain everything for once. Additionally, Four also liked reading, and unlike with most of their other brothers, they could actually have intelligent conversations with each other.

Not that that’s what they were doing when they’d trailed after the other two towards the fountain, but when they heard the snarl and resulting scream, the look the two heroes shared had carried as many words as a full two-hour lecture, while all at once conveying a single thought.

Oh boy, what did Twilight do this time?

What Twilight had done, he found out later, was spring a thief who had attempted to snatch the Sheikah Slate from Wild, who’d been a bit busy trying to calm his anxiety to really notice that one of the humans pressing close all around him was actually trying to steal it. That, naturally, was all well and good. The problem was the way Twilight had chosen to handle it and Legend swore there were days that Twilight forgot what form he was in; rather than pushing the thief away or grabbing ahold of them and confronting them, the gracious rancher had chosen to fling his entire body weight at the man and bite his arm.

Of course, that was only what Legend found out later, what he saw when the four of them managed to peek through the crowd, was Twilight standing there in full sight of the entire market with blood on his teeth and a man screaming in pain and terror at his feet.

Bravo, Rancher, bravo.

“Oof.” Wind winced. “That’s not good.”

“Shit.” Warriors swore, glancing around nervously and ripping his scarf off to hide in his pack.

Realization sprung on the vet like Twilight had the poor thief; Warriors was the hero here. If anyone noticed him, or any of the knightlier looking ones, they’d probably try and have them arrest Twilight. That was all well and good of course, as it would make a reasonable excuse to haul the rancher out of the way, but they’d be expected to call for help from some soldiers, and while they’d been planning on meeting with the queen while they were here, having Twilight presented to her as a feral, potentially insane, and definitely dangerous criminal was not the approach they were aiming for.

They needed a distraction, fast.

So, like the reasonable and totally mentally secure Hylian that he was, Legend shouted the first thing that came to his mind. “Violet!”

His three companions stared at him, and had he been capable, he would have stared at himself, but a desperate glance Fours way had the other drawing back, nodding slowly as Legend shouted again. “Violet? Honey?”

Warriors looked at him like he’d lost his head, gripping Wind’s shoulder firmly as if worried he’d have to pull the kid back from the apparently mad veteran.

Thank Din for teaching him acting years ago, even if it was all stage performing, but he was counting on it to get him, and Twilight, out of their respective messes, even if that meant building his higher before he could escape. At any rate, he’d caught the attention of a few people with his panicked shout. Turning to the nearest Hylian that wasn’t one of his group, he gently tapped the woman’s shoulder, letting his panic and everything in general spill over into his face and voice as the woman met his gaze with a startled look.

“Ma’am, I’m looking for-” Oh Four was going to hate this. “-My child, Violet. Have you seen a blonde Hylian child, so tall?” He lowered his hand to approximately where Four’s head would reach. “I’ve been looking everywhere!” He forced a fake sob into his voice, glancing from the woman to the surrounding crowd, and Warriors and Wind in its midst.

Wind was stifling a laugh behind his hand while Warriors stared in utter shock.

“Oh my,” The woman touched her cheek, clucking lightly and patting Legend’s hand in a consoling manner. “You poor dear! I haven’t seen a thing but just give me one moment.” The burly housewife turned, still patting Legend’s hand gently as she murmured something to the women behind her, before turning back to Legend with a sorry expression. “None of my friends have seen your little one, dear. But-” The woman turned and, with all the force and volume of a cow, hollered at the top of her lungs to the crowd as a whole. “Hello? Yes, this woman is looking for her daughter!”

Woman?!?!?!

“Her name is Violet! She’s-” The woman blinked, looking to Legend with a worried look as several other market goers turned to stare, many of them women with looks of pity and understanding that was making him wish he’d stayed silent. Fortunately, his ruse had startled them out of staring at the sight of a mauled thief as worry for a poor young mother and her lost daughter took its place. “She’s how old?”

Legend fought the protest of female pronouns, both on Four’s part and his own, but only in his head. Outwardly however, he covered his face with the hand not being smashed by the farm-wife's own. “She’s four.” Shoot him, he was saying whatever came to mind because he was panicked, alright?

A snort could be heard behind him, earning disapproving looks from the crowd that soon shifted to pity as Wind too joined the act, turning his snort into pitiful sniffling as he clung to Warriors’ hand, looking for all the world like a child who’d been to the market too long and wanted to go home, but was also panicking at the loss of their sibling. “Have you all seen my sister?” The sailor blubbered softly, actual tears spilling down his face as he pouted, expression making his act so believable that no one even questioned his height. As if to make the act more convincing, Warriors wrapped an arm around the kid’s shoulder, his own face stiffening into something that could either be gas or worry, Legend was a bit on the fence.

“What’s going on here?” Legend wished that was Time stalking towards them in full armor, but it wasn’t, it was a Hylian Soldier, staring at the crowd with a grim frown on his face as he turned to Legend, standing in its center.

Oh well, those who crack under a tough audience get tomatoes to the face; he just hoped Wars would keep playing along. “My daughter,” He sobbed into his hand, pulling the other free from the housewife to properly cover his face. “She- My baby- I can’t find her anywhere, Sir!” Later, Warriors would begrudgingly admit that the look Legend shot the soldier was enough to break any heart as the vet stepped forwards, grabbing hold of the man’s arm with all the desperation of a worried mother. “Please tell me, have you seen a little girl? She’s in her favorite dress, the colors of the goddesses, red, green and blue?” He motioned down at his own tunic, skirt, whatever one would call it. “There’s a violet corner too, I made it for her myself- oh my poor baby! I can’t seem to find her anywhere!”

The grizzled soldier quickly melted under the power of tearful violet eyes, and he too gently patted Legend’s hands as if he thought it would do any good. “I’ll have my men look for her right away, ma’am. How old would you say she is?

“She’s four.” He reaffirmed. Might as well stick to his original story.

“So tall?” The farm-wife motioned, hands lowering a bit more than Legend’s had, but the woman was trying to help, so he couldn’t really be upset with her for getting it wrong. At this point though, he was a bit worried about where Four actually was, because he’d expected the shorter hero to make an appearance sooner rather than later so the act could end.

“Right.” The man nodded, pulling himself loose as Legend brought his hands to clasp in front of his chest in an imitation of the maids he’d seen worrying about the halls when Fable went missing. “We’ll do everything in our power to find your little one, madame, you have my word.” The soldier bowed, kissing the back of the vet’s hand graciously before moving back into the crowd and snapping orders at the soldiers stationed around the market.

People buzzed by, spreading the word of ‘little Violet’s’ disappearance as Warriors and Wind pushed forwards to where Legend stood.

“Really, vet?” Warriors murmured lowly.

“I panicked.” He admitted softly, as to avoid anyone noticing as he wrung his hands. “But seriously, where is ‘’Violet’? I thought he’d have appeared before it became a big thing.”

The captain frowned, settling a hand on his shoulder carefully and standing on his toes to look over the crowd as Wind giggled at the scowling veteran. The minute he shot a look down at the sailor though, the kid had picked up his role as smoothly as if he’d never dropped it. “I’m worried, mom.” Wind blinked past fake tears, and had he not needed to remain in character, Legend would have scowled and flicked the kid’s nose for the tease.

“I am too, honey.” He sighed instead, ruffling the sailor’s curls and looking over to where the others had been. Time and the others had disappeared into the crowd again, likely trying to keep a low profile and laughing their asses off at Legend’s expense while Time and Sky scolded Twilight.

“Mama?” A small voice called out, and the crowd, and he meant the whole crowd, the whole freaking crowd of several hundred people, froze as a small face peeked out from an alleyway, the smithy’s hand coming up to rub at his shimmering purple eyes with a sniff. “Mama?”

“Violet!” All three heroes surged forwards, Legend sinking to his knees and wrapping Four in a hug, taking the opportunity when his face was hidden from the crowd to scowl. “About time you showed up.�� Aloud for the crowd however, he let sobs pitch his voice hysterically. “Oh honey, you can’t run off on mama like that! I was worried sick!”

And as if to put the icing on the cake of shame, one of the men in the crowd smiled softly, patting Warriors’ back with a friendly smile. “Your wife is quite the caring mother, isn’t she? Ah, you’re a lucky man, Mr.”

Legend forced himself to not blow their cover, no matter how little they now needed it with the others safely out of sight. Breaking character meant causing drama that they didn’t need. ‘Violet’ had been found, the cute little family would depart, people would calm. But if the worried mother turned out to be a screaming teenage boy and the lost daughter to be a smithy apprentice with a height problem, people would likely riot. So instead of turning around and giving the man a piece of his mind, he pushed forwards, hefting Four in his arms (the smithy sank into him with a sigh that couldn’t have been faked) letting the smaller hero nestle against him, hood hiding the smithy’s face from view as he pulled them both up, adjusting his arms so as to not drop the other.

Man, he was glad he’d put on power bracelets today.

“She is indeed.” Warriors forced out, a strained smile on his face as he settled his hand on Legend’s waist, stiff, cold and incredibly awkward. “We’d probably better head off, dear.” If the captain smiled any harder, he’d break his teeth. “Or the inns will all be full.”

It should have ended there, it should have. Legend was so ready for it to end (although Four was warm and a calming presence as the smithy began to doze against his chest), but because fate loved to mess with him, it didn’t.

“You’re looking for a place to stay the night?” The Man-Who-Needed-To-Be-Kicked cocked a brow. “I run an inn here, just across the square. I’m sure we can find a lovely little family like yourselves a place to rest, you and our wife must be exhausted after such worry!”

Warriors, sages curse and bless him, nodded along stiffly, gently pulling him along by is waist after the Blasted-Innkeeper-Who-Would-Be-Kicked as the man chattered about family discounts and free dinner. Legend’s shoulders only lowered when a free trip to the bath house was also thrown in ‘complimentarily’.

He regretted it when someone pointed him to the ladies’ side of the bath-house (think heavens it was empty that early), and he was about ready to strangle something or someone when the others joined them inside, stuck with a regularly priced room, and the smithy and vet both were bombarded with teases as Warriors sat looking utterly and completely disgusted.

“They thought we were married....”

Legend groaned, flopping over on the other side of the bed with a grimace. “Gross, right?”

“Yeah.”

"We’re forgetting this ever happened, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Regardless, no one ever let them forget it happened.

Legend was buying Twilight a muzzle, and he was pretty sure Wars would be willing to help.

[mewberii]

Streamer!Scaramouche [2]

thanks for all the support in the first part! i wrote a second part where scaramouche plays genshin + the reader comes in (i tried to make it as gender neutral as possible, so let me know if there’s something off!). you’re a close friend of scaramouche and also a voice actor!

i had been planning this since i wrote the first part, but because i was busy and uninspired i couldn’t finish it. but here it is and it’s actually pretty long (over 5k words...)! i hope you guys will like this!! obviously he’s a little nicer than he is in game but,,, for the sake of the plot + it being a modern au, it had to be done sjnfdskjf

He was selected to play the beta for genshin because of his popularity and tbh he really wanted to play it

The game hadn’t really caught his eye all that much when he first heard about it but he saw how everyone online went crazy over it (plus other streamers who also were selected to play it in early access kept talking about it) and he became more curious to know what it would be like and if it’d live to everyone’s expectations

However he couldn’t really play it until it was officially released because he had a very busy schedule, and when he saw other streams of people playing it he was,,, lowkey jealous because it did look fun

When it was finally released and the game finished downloading and installing, he went live right away

And since so many people were looking forward to seeing him play plus the game was getting so popular so fast, that stream of when he first played hit his biggest milestone of live viewers ever

ANYWAYS skip forward to further into the game

when it comes to the gacha,,,

we’ve established that this boy is loaded. he won’t hesitate to throw some big amounts of money at the game to get every single character and weapon he wants and get their constellations to the max

i feel like he’d make little bets (and it works as a way to thank the chat for the support) like “if i get (insert newest character) in the first 50 pulls, i will gift 50 subs”

he’d be SOOOOOOO LUCKY it’d make everyone who doesn’t play think that it must be very easy to get the 5 stars or that the drop rate must be very high,,,

so in the end he’d have to gift the subs and it’d be funny to see the chat go absolutely crazy because everyone is commenting at the same time trying to see if they got lucky too and got the sub

but the chat goes so fast that they can’t even see their own comment after they send it sNDJGDJSK 

he’d end up turning subs mode on for a while because it goes crazy

and that’s when he’d see people going “I GOT THE SUB-” all excited and he can’t help but chuckle and congratulate them for being one of the lucky ones

probably another game he can use to play with some subs once in a while! they could play co-op and when he’s a very high level he’d go to the worlds of some of his subs with lower level to help them with whatever they need

SO, LITTLE SKIP HERE

this is where i want the reader to slide into the picture

you’d be a voice actor, and also you have been a friend of his for a very long time

he met you even before he started streaming and you were always so supportive of him, as he was of every and each of your dreams

in fact, he would have invited you over more than once to stream with him

people don’t say anything bc they’re afraid of scaramouche banning them (it’s happened before) + they understand it can be disrespectful... but…

some people lowkey ship you two a little bit,,,,,, you didn’t hear it from me. scaramouche don’t ban me----

so one day he’s making another livestream playing genshin (sponsored by mihoyo to promote the newest update and event) and they’re going to release a new character 

AND he has told everyone that you are the voice actor of the new character, who will be introduced in the event and is also getting their own banner

so everyone is very curious of what they’ll be like, if scaramouche will try to get them (obviously he will, he has every single character…. the amount of money he has put into the game…. just thinking of it gives me the heebie-jeebies) 

could he even,,, main them,,,,

spoiler: he won’t because he’ll stay honest till the end (and no hard feelings) but there are other characters that he has built up to the max just like them and still work better with the way he plays but he’ll still find a chance to use them often

he didn’t know anything of what the character you voiced would be like because you wanted to keep it a surprise and he knew his audience would enjoy seeing his first reactions

I think the character you voice in the game would have the role that Scaramouche has in the actual game, and their design would be fairly similar (maybe similar color palette) to the design fans made for him as a genshin character (the one i mentioned that he uses for popup notifs of subscriptions and all!)

needless to say he’d absolutely love their personality and the charisma you showed in their lines

of course when he finally gets them he shows everything about them including all their voice lines and he compliments y/n’s voice acting… that was the first time people suspected that....

mayhaps… scaramouche….

has feelings for you....

it’s in the soft gaze in his eyes,,, the gentle smile on his lips,,, his soft voice when saying “I think this one is my favorite line of theirs”

and just how BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL his laugh sounds when someone comments he should invite you and ask you to do that voiceline live for him and everyone else

he’d jokingly reach for his phone and be like “should i call them? i could” 

(but he wouldn’t because he doesn’t want to disturb you, you may be busy, considering you still hadn’t replied to the messages he sent to you before he started the stream a few hours ago)

if anyone dares be mean to you saying you got the chance to voice act for genshin just bc of scaramouche

or implies that he did something to get you there he’ll get quite mad even tho he won’t speak up about it (he might if enough people say it) 

people can see something shift in his gaze,,,, and he bans them permanently right away

it’d be kinda funny when he does those “reading unban requests” streams and he goes past immediately rejecting people who said those kind of stuff, not even reading the apologies JSNKJFNDSJKGNSDK

some people say he’s too strict about it but literally his stream his rules. people who don’t like him should just not watch him

and people who like him should NOT speak badly about you or doubt your talent and effort, which is what brought you that opportunity in the first place

one day he’d be streaming playing the game, he had been using your character and gathering materials to get their last ascension

and at one point he’d grab his phone and look at the screen for a second before putting it back down and saying he had planned something else for tonight besides playing genshin for a while

then, the doorbell would ring (before he could even close the game-) and it’d be heard from his setup room so people in the chat heard it and they’re all like???

it’s definitely not takeout because scaramouche never orders takeout when he’s on his own, he usually cooks for himself and just orders it when he’s with friends and they all feel like eating something different

actually, offtopic, but i have a feeling he’d be very responsible when it comes to food and like he’d cook himself proper meals all perfectly balanced and all- he could afford having someone cook for him but his house = his privacy and personal space so he’d rather do it himself

it’s like, past 10pm, so no way it would be a package or mail at that time

and then he says “we have a visitor tonight”

and then the chat goes crazy saying “CHILDE” “HARBINGERS” but mostly “Y/N!??!?/PLEASE LET IT BE Y/N”

AND IT WAS YOU!!!!

and omg you brought takeout--------

it had been a while since they had seen you in scaramouche’s stream and you didn’t have your own channel (even though there were many people who encouraged you to open one)

SO everyone was very excited

i feel like scaramouche wouldn’t be the biggest fan of eating on camera so you guys would put the food away so that you can eat it later on your own without an audience

and you two would just spend a while talking to the chat, watching videos

AND reviewing fanart and fanmade content together!! it’d be so cute especially fanarts of the two of you together, little animatics or comics of funny clips or memes from his streams of you two,,,

someone made a little felt plushie of the genshin character you voiced and the way you COOED because it was SO cute

only those who were truly paying attention were able to notice the soft smile on scaramouche’s lips and the way he looked at you as you gushed over how cute the little plushie is and how talented the person who made it is!!

also you’d tell him you saw signora make a stream where she talked to some of her fans on discord individually to give them advice on their life/problems (nothing too serious) and it was very funny and you wanted to do that with him someday

and he’s like “that… could be a huge mess. people could say some crazy stuff” and you’re like “NO but i talked to her about it and she said she got her mods to talk to them first and approve them before they moved them up to the channel where she was to talk to her”

and he’s like “still…….. what if people lie and then when they get to talk to us they say something-”

and you’re like “BOY!!!! DO YOU NOT TRUST YOUR FANS *GASP*” and everyone in the chat is also going “GASP” “HE DOESN’T TRUST US…” “IS THIS YOUR IDOL…..?” “SAY SORRY” (all good fun, obviously he’d love to talk to everyone if he could make sure there won’t be anything disrespectful said)

SO!!!!! you two say you’ll plan to do something like that soon and everyone is very excited, they can already tell it’ll be both super cute and hilarious

before he ends the stream, you two watch some videos together

some are about some upcoming videogames and he talks about them and what he knows and explaining things to you... he is.. so knowledgeable…

the way you look at him as he goes into a little rant about it… cinematic parallels with the way he looked at you before

ONCE AGAIN, people aren’t blind. they notice. but they keep it to themselves bc scary scara (the way i had to resist overusing this one joke with his name-)

so the stream ends and you two walk out of the setup room to go to his living room and eat the takeout you brought while watching something on tv

he apologises because the food is cold now, but you brush it off saying it’s ok, you had missed being on his streams and you two can just heat up the food again

he doesn’t look at you in the eyes as he mutters that you know you can join his streams whenever, and instead just says it as he makes his way to the kitchen to heat the food

you join him in the kitchen soon after and tell him you also bought something for dessert and put it in the fridge already before

and honestly he didn’t know how much he wanted to eat that dessert until it was in his fridge, so he can’t stop himself from sighing and saying “god, i love you”

there’s silence for a second, right as the microwave beeps as it finished heating the food

it feels eternal to him, but you immediately started laughing and said jokingly “of course you do! you’re welcome!” 

he’s happy you took it as a joke because that’s not how he planned to confess (he didn’t plan to confess anytime soon in the first place) but at the same time ?? he’s lowkey offended inside because? you took it as a joke?? is it so unrealistic that you wouldn’t even think that he meant it romantically?

it’s at that moment that he realises that if he didn’t want to confess before, now he does.

he wouldn’t want anyone to know about how he let that slip because he’s sure no one in you two’s friend group even knows he likes you

but you,,, actually,,,,, were actually caught off guard too because scaramouche wasn’t precisely one for words of affection and he showed his care for everyone with his actions

in fact, you had never heard him say those words before but well- it was kinda nice- if only he meant it as you feel it- but he couldn’t, right? who’d confess their feelings so casually while looking at a dessert in the fridge with desire-------

that night, it gets pretty late and to be honest he’s a little too tired to drive you home as he usually would, so he asks if you’d like to sleep over

it wouldn’t be your first time doing so, not even the first time you stayed unplanned, and he had a couple guest rooms that you could use so you accepted

also, staying for longer meant you could keep watching some more of that series with him without worrying about it getting late

or,,,

“actually” you said in a low voice, almost a whisper, since it was getting late and you two had been in complete silence while watching the series “i lowkey still wanted to stream some more”

he scoffs but then lets out a short chuckle, replying in the same volume

“it’s past 2am, who’s going to watch me stream now?”

“i would” have mercy for his poor heart- “but i’d be the streamer too this time so it doesn’t count” 

“what even would we do”

“can we play that co-op game you played with childe? it was so much fun” 

had you not brought it up, he wouldn’t have offered that ever because? if he had recently played it with childe he didn’t want to stream it again and make it feel repetitive for his audience 

(jokes on him because when genshin came out they put up with it being the only thing he streamed for over a week. they’d rewatch any game if it’s you two playing it)

but to be honest, he didn’t really want to stream anymore that day and just wanted to be with you, just you and no one else

he got up from the couch and walked towards the hallway, making you look up to him in confusion for a second, but then started getting excited knowing this meant he was going to let you play it with him

“i don’t really feel like streaming anymore today, but we can still play it. let’s go”

the next day, you two wake up around the same time and make breakfast together

scaramouche i feel is not very talkative in the mornings 

in fact, i feel like he’s just not the most talkative in general. he’s more the type to listen, but it’s different during his streams because he’s doing what he loves and talking about what he loves

and when it comes to you and he talks more it’s because he’s talking to who he loves----

before you’re going to leave and you’re standing at the door about to say goodbye to him, he suddenly speaks up before you can

“do you want to go somewhere tomorrow?”

you raise your eyebrows in curiosity from the sudden request, but then smile at him and nod

“yeah sure! what do you have in min-”

“it’s a date” he said, interrupting you, which was weird enough of him (since he would never interrupt you), but his words were even weirder-

“h-huh?” you felt the heat rising to your cheeks, and scaramouche just repeated his words

on the outside, he looked so casual and just, confident- bUT INSIDE he was actually panicking a little bit 

but just a little bit.

After a moment, you smiled at him again, this time somewhat more shily but also excited for your date!

“I look forward to it”

Just with that, you two knew you had made the first step

You weren’t just friends anymore

You two had hung out on your own many times before, in fact and as it was mentioned before, you two had even slept over at his house or yours many times before

but it had all always been purely platonic, and you guys had never even questioned that aspect of it even after realising you had romantic feelings for each other

he’d spend the rest of the day thinking of what you could do the next day, as if he hadn’t been brainstorming for ideas all night either

i feel like he hasn’t gone in many (if not any--) dates before

solely because he has never been interested in romance plus he had never liked someone or at least, not as much as he liked you

and even when he found out he felt something for you, he just always told himself he was okay with how things were, because he’d never experienced anything beyond friendship and didn’t feel the need to try and maybe ruin the friendship

SO he didn’t have many ideas of what a good date could be

he definitely didn’t want a cliché corny date, but he really didn’t have any idea of what was good enough for a date

(and if for future dates you want something he’d consider a “”cliché corny date”” he’d do it for you and actually enjoy it)

the last thing he wanted was to have to ask you what you could do for your date

1- because he didn’t want to show you any side of him that didn’t look like he always has everything under control and he’s always composed (as if you wouldn’t want to see every side of him, even his most vulnerable sides- you’d have to work on that with him when you two become official)

2- he… kind of wanted to surprise you…..

but it really got to the point where he really didn’t know what you’d like the most (or what he’d like the most too) and what he wanted most over anything else is to not disappoint you in you two’s first date

SO he finally texted you asking if there was anything special you wanted to do (and therefore indirectly admitting he……….. just really wanted to ask you out. so much he did it without thinking of what he’d do if you said yes--)

you didn’t seem to mind, and in fact you were happy he asked for your opinion 

overall, scaramouche was very independent so he wasn’t one to ask others for advice, opinions or anything, much less for help regarding anything

“how long has it been since we last went to the arcade? we could go there! i heard from childe that they added new games!”

and he’s like !?!?!?? THAT…. is…….. the perfect idea

“that actually sounds perfect” he admitted, and the message brought a big smile to your face 

“just don’t get mad at me when you lose at all of them” he sent right after, teasing you, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh out loud

“the last time i won in your favorite game” you reminded him, and even after he read your message, he took a little bit to reply

(he needed a second to put the pieces of his pride together SJNFKJDS)

“don’t get used to it, it won’t happen again”

“we will see about that” the more you two joked like this, the more excited you got thinking about tomorrow

scaramouche was sure now that it’d be a great first date that you’d both remember forever

the next day, it was almost the time for the date and scaramouche was going to pick you up at your house

i feel like scaramouche would be very fashionable and even in his style he doesn’t try to hide that he’s loaded…

not that he cares about buying cheap clothes, literally he’d say if he likes it and it’s good (aka it’s not cheap because it’s made of something that won’t make it last longer than 3 weeks) he’ll get it

but it just so happens that many times… the clothes he likes most are from famous brands…

AND THIS DAY!!!!!! he’s putting together one of his favorite outfits because it’s a special day

it almost hurts me just how nonchalant he’d look on the outside, making it a little hard to know exactly just how much this date meant to him (because as i said he’s not one to be very vocal about his feelings or even his thoughts)

BUT i trust that you… since you know him well…. can see past all that and you know that this is not just anything casual to him. this is special.

STILL!!!! he’d try his best to not let the blush rise to his cheeks and show, as well as to not let his voice shake when he complimented that you looked very good

ANYWAYS i think i think Scaramouche wouldn’t be one for big pda

the most he’d do where anyone can see is hold your hand or put his arm around your waist

WHICH IS WHY he’d try to be all smooth (and he would manage) reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers with yours

he wouldn’t make eye contact because then he’s sure it’ll show on his face that he’s getting somewhat flustered, but he’d still ask if you’re okay with it, to which you said yes

the area where the arcade was is always somewhat crowded so when you two were getting there, scaramouche would tighten the grip on your hand a little bit to make sure you wouldn’t let go and you’d be pulled apart by people trying to walk past however they can

you know that if you two got serious about your relationship, he would want to be the first person to share the news with his fans

BUT since he was so popular now, you two lived in a pretty big city and now were at a popular area (+ scaramouche wouldn’t be the type to try and hide his identity because he’s never had people make a fuss when they recognise him)

you were a little worried someone would see you two and maybe take a picture and post it online and it’d go viral before he can admit it himself

because of that, you end up throwing back to him the question he had asked when he held your hand 

“are you sure this is okay?”

your question confused him because he didn’t know what you mean, so he finally looked you in the eyes and waited for you to explain further

“it’s just- what if somebody sees us and recognises you?”

he looked away from you and back at where he was going, taking a few seconds to answer before he just shrugged

“i don’t care”

you softly let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you waited for him to say something, and almost missed the way he whispered

“as long as it doesn’t affect you”

for someone who seemed and actually tried to seem to self-sufficient, who appreciated his friends but was also okay on his own because he was absolutely comfortable with himself, he was actually…

more selfless than people would ever know, especially when it came to you

you two would have SO much fun in the arcade, trying every single game many times

this time though, scaramouche won in his favorite game so he lived up to his words

you two won so many tickets you literally didn’t even know what to do with them once you got the couple prizes you were interested in

you bumped into a couple fans of his, so you talked for a while

once again, you were met with suggestions of opening your own streaming channel, and even scaramouche said “i’ve told them that many times too, but they always say they think their streams won’t be fun enough”

and the fans are like “NO!! literally everyone thinks you’re super nice and fun!! of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but we’d love it!!”

one of the fans (exaggerating a little as a joke) said “i’ll be your number 1 fan i swear” and the three of you laughed, except scaramouche who just scoffed and smirked 

“i am ALREADY their number one fan. but good try” <- scaramouche in his head. say it outloud u coward.

but at the same time it was a joke scaramouche chill pretty much everyone knows you’re their number one fan……. even though you think you’re so smooth………. they just don’t say anything 

they were very nice and fun to talk to and you knew scaramouche and you didn’t really want anything else from the prizes, so you offered you two’s tickets to them

“we don’t really need these anymore so maybe you’ll have more use for them!!”

they got SO excited, the way their eyes lit up :( scaramouche is convinced you’re an angel but he’s also very happy to see how joyful his fans got because those were more than enough for the prize they really wanted-

so after that cute little interaction and having used up your energy for competition, you two leave and think of buying some ice cream or a milkshake or something to end the date nicely and to enjoy while you walk back home

the arcade was not exactly very close to where you two lived (it was far from your house, but even farther from his-) so he asked if you were okay with walking back or if you two should get an uber or something, to which you said you were okay

walking back with him meant!! a little more time you could spend with him

and he was happy you said that because he was feeling the same way and still didn’t want the day to end

we’ll see more about the kind of things he likes and dislikes if he’s released as a playing character BUT FOR NOW i really get this vibe that he’d LOVE boba tea

i even think he’d?? enjoy tea in general??? classy boy…

SO you two would end up going to get some boba 

it was very touching how, when reading the flavors they had that day, he suddenly and casually went “oh, they have your favorite” and you looked at the one he was pointing at and !!! indeed it was your favorite!!!!!!!

he remembers this kind of details very well

you take the chance to talk some more as you’re walking home

scaramouche asks about your job with voice acting and you tell him that you actually have been recording some new lines for your genshin character lately because in the next update there’ll be an event involving them

he’s looking forward to it but he teases you a little asking if it’s okay for you to spoil him with such information

but it’s okay because it’s not like he’d tell anyone, especially knowing it could get you in trouble

when he drops you off at your house, he has a hard time saying goodbye

literally you’re standing at your door and he’s in front of you, a couple steps away, looking away from you

you don’t say goodbye either, mainly because you know scaramouche is working the courage to say something, and you can also sort of guess what he wants to say

you think of saying it first, but then think that it would make scaramouche proud to be honest about his feelings and confess first

“i’ve liked you for a long time”

you can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face, unconsciously reaching a hand up to slightly cover it

“i feel the same way” you replied to him in a soft voice

he took a deep breath and exhaled it softly, finally lifting up his gaze and making eye contact with you

it was already dark outside, so you couldn’t appreciate the faint rosy blush on his cheeks well

“can i kiss you?”

your eyes widened for a second, not expecting him to ask and if anything, thinking he’d just step forward and do it

so you were a little embarrassed and caught off-guard to reply properly, so you just nodded and put your hand down as he took the last couple steps and his face was right in front of yours

he’d cup your cheek in one of his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin

you closed your eyes, and he looked at you for a second longer before he finally leaned in and closed the short distance that separated your lips

at that moment you both knew that you had been missing on so much more when you two just settled and were content with your friendship

but!! that was about to change now, so it was all worth it

after that, scaramouche would make clear that this would be the first day of your relationship!! and even if he didn’t say it with words, you could just feel his happiness!!

so!! after that, because of work you two got a little busy the next couple months so dates weren’t very frequent 

or at least, they weren’t dates like the one you first had

but still whenever you two were free he’d go over to your house, or you’d come over to his to play, stream together, or literally just spend time together doing anything

he wouldn’t let people know you two had started dating straight away (if anything, only his other streamer friends -aka you two’s friends in common- knew)

but the day he said it, he wanted you to be there

SO one day you two were streaming and you were currently reacting to one fanart of you two together

so he looked at you and you made eye contact and it was like you two spoke with your eyes like

“do we tell them now”

“let’s tell them.”

so scaramouche would clear his throat and without closing the fanart, he’d say he has something he wanted to announce

everyone was excited thinking it’d be some new project, maybe involving you

maybe some merch??? and the fanarts had reminded him of it???????

BUT THEN he straightforwardly said

“y/n and i are dating”

and everyone goes aBSOLUTELY CRAZY

amidst the chaos, you two catch a comment saying “will you unban the people who shipped you two” and you laugh

and you look at each other like “did you read that one?” “yeah”

and scaramouche is like “yeah, i guess i will have to unban some people”

and when some get unbanned they’re like “fREEDOM!!!!”

and jokingly they’re all like “APOLOGISE!!!!!!!! SAY SORRY!!!” so he just laughs and you join them being like “!!! apologise!!! you banned them for it and!! look at you now!!”

so he ends up trying to hold in another laugh as he mutters a halfassed ‘sorry’ and everyone starts commenting claps and hearts and celebrating that he apologised. now justice has been made.

the rest of that stream suddenly feels livelier and brighter!! you two are laughing a lot and so is everyone in the chat!! 

and also the new genshin event would’ve already just been released that same day so you can talk about some of your experiences with recording or what you thought of it

and scaramouche would let you play it yourself!! (he still hadn’t played it) and it was also the first time you played genshin live!! you’d show people the characters you have and everything and tell them some anecdotes

people would be SHOCKED because you!? don’t have the character you voiced!? D:

and you’re like “yeah… i pulled for them and used up all my primogems and… didn’t get them”

and your banner is back because of the event, so scaramouche won’t let this slide!!!!!!!!!! YOU WILL GET YOUR CHARACTER.

your luck is terrible compared to his so at one point you’ll literally feel bad for how much he’s spending for you to get it

but he doesn’t mind at all and everyone is having fun so!!

and once you finally get them you’re sO HAPPY and everyone in the chat is celebrating

and you think it’s over but scaramouche is like ???? what are you doing?? open the wish page again. you’re going to get them c6.

and you’re like oh my gOD PLEASE NO DON’T SPEND MORE MONEY ON ME FOR THIS

but he won’t listen and he’ll do it

so!!! he’ll always do his best to be the best boyfriend he can be for you!! so you better give him your heart!!!!

[eternalglitch]

Heya, I was checking on the fics recs that you gave a while ago and I noticed that people mostly asks you of rise fics, and once you said "but if anyone is ever interested in my “all time favorites / fics that read like a novel that leave an emotional impact regardless of fandom” I have lots of those. ^^". So... If you haven't rec those... Can you :D? (Sorry for the bad english btw)

I def can!! Note that these are all LONG fics for the most part, and I have most of them downloaded onto my phone to reread when I have time to burn.

Please read all the tags for these fics for any needed content warnings. I enjoy angst and dark themes (with happy endings though!)

Reluctant Hero by PAW_07 [Avatar the Last Airbender]

"It was an accident." That was what Zuko had said to his crew when he used an element he hadn't been meant to. Air. But... he wasn't the Avatar. The Avatar was supposed to be in the Earth Kingdom, hidden by its walls. That is unless the old Avatar had died long ago. AU-ish. glitch notes: If you want an ATLA AU where Zuko's life is even more cursed than it already is, buckle up, here it is! Aang is still around as well, although how that happened is very different. Still a WIP, updates rarely.

Ain't No Cure for the Cervitaur Blues by Utukki [Gravity Falls]

Languishing in prison after being thwarted in the Gravity Falls Mayoral Election, Gideon is angry and desperate. He wants power, he wants Mabel, and he’ll make a deal with Bill to get both. But when Dipper ruins both Gideon’s and Bill’s long-term plans, they make another deal together. Bill wants his Weirdmageddon. Gideon just wants Dipper to suffer. Inspired by Monster Falls AU.

glitch notes: vampire Gideon, cervitaur demi-god Dipper, it's a fun ride! Unfinished but they only had one chapter left to go and its not too badly left off.

Eden!verse by ImprobablyDreams900 [Good Omens]

When Crowley gets captured by angels and dragged up to Heaven, Aziraphale knows he has to rescue him—no matter the consequences.

glitch notes: This baby is 500k (5x longer than the original Good Omens!!) and I sat and consumed it nonstop in the course of 3 days. Contains an asexual main relationship, a ton of bible based world building, Alexander Hamilton and Houdini as important characters, and the story of how a demon and angel cause a revolution in between heaven and hell itself in their attempts to be together. Does not pull its punches in angst and MUAH beautifully done.

Death Need Not Apply by Saltoo [BNHA]

No one noticed when Izuku manifested his quirk. Not at first.

A week later and people began to take notice. After a statistically improbable week without a single death, people took notice. After deadly wounds were shrugged off like nothing, people took notice. Time passed and still no one could die. When the city of Musutafu became engulfed in the phenomenon dubbed 'The Zone', people were wary. No one could uncover what caused The Zone. It was an unknown, some claimed. It went against the laws of the world, some claimed. It was profitable, others claimed. Humans adapt. It's what they do. When faced with the bizarre, humanity adapts. The strange becomes mundane. The rest of the world looks on in horror. glitch notes: The world building in this one? AMAZING it haunts me to this day, I wish there was an original show about it. What DOES happen when there's an area of the world where immortality is suddenly the normal? In progress.

Bloom in Winter by e_va [BNHA]

Hisashi Midoriya is a member of one of the most notorious underground supervillain organizations, and Izuku is being forced to help them (even though, trust him, he'd really rather not). Too bad that they don't predict that Izuku's going to get adopted by half the faculty when they send him to spy on the prestigious hero academy.

glitch notes: One of the fics that really made me passionate about writing. Unfinished but man, I adore this one. Reluctant villain trope, incredible writing, I made a full fan animatic for this fic once and that should tell it all.

Yesterday Upon the Stair by PitViperofDoom [BNHA]

Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless. Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.

glitch notes: If you like BNHA, this one is the most read fic for a reason in that fandom.

Dauntless by Allora Gale [Code Geass]

Lelouch had been quite happy with his life. Sure they were living in obscurity, but he and Nunnally were safe. All of that changes however, when his identity is revealed and Lelouch is forced back into the fold of the Imperial family.

glitch notes: I watched season one of Code Geass a long time ago, and never finished or rewatched it. Honestly I prefer this fanfic over the show itself because it's just so interesting? Good stuff even if you don't know the show at all. Still ongoing.

A Breach of Trust by phantomrose96 [Mob Psycho 100]

This is a world in which Mob and Reigen’s paths have never crossed, in which 10-year-old Mob found psychic guidance in the form of the aging, retired tv personality Keiji Mogami, in which Reigen followed through on his plans to close the Spirits and Such Agency, in which a cruel twist of Mob’s powers forces him to confront how dangerous he really is. 10 year old Shigeo Kageyama has vanished, his trail instantly cold, and his case gathers dust in police archives as a kidnapping never solved. Four years pass before a chain of events causes his path to cross with that of the despondent, unfulfilled fake-psychic-turned-fake-investigator, Arataka Reigen. Reigen finds himself in over his head caring for an escaped victim of abuse who, for reasons unfathomable, has been taught to believe his very existence is a horrifically dangerous thing…

glitch notes: Every time this updates I drop everything and read it like a man possessed. Often times this is the case in this fanfic! Chrissy has the most amazing writing skills, I study her work all the time to be able to convey emotions like that. Ongoing right now.

Live Free by SplickedyHat [Motorcity]

Mike Chilton only came back to Motorcity a week ago, there to pick up the pieces left behind by the Genesis Pod, the echoes of a rallying cry still hanging in the air--"For Mike and Motorcity!" But now he's gone again, and without him the Burners' new challenges seem increasingly insurmountable; a new enemy--a second Red in Kane Co. colors, a war brewing between the Motorcity gangs, and one Burner secretly bearing unimaginable pressure from both sides of a double life. Something has to give

glitch notes: This fic is RIGHT up my alley and was another one I found and consumed swiftly without doing much else. This one is all of the tropes I love, and the sequel feels like a proper send off to the show that was cut short. Has great art every chapter. Worth watching the show just to read this lolol.

And that's it for now! I have more but I don't want this post to get TOO long. Hope you find a gem in here that you also enjoy!

[reginaofdoctorwho]

if anyone wants to recommend musicals to me I would fucking adore that. Until then, here are some suggestions:

Love in Hate Nation-- LET’S GO LESBIANS! 1960s sapphic love story taking place in a girls’ reformatory. Also, trans girl played by trans actress!!! Some of the amazing songs are “I Hope” and “Oh Well”. Susannah Son wants to be a singer, her performative activist boyfriend is gross and also wants her to marry him so he’ll have better options politically. Sheila Nail is so fucking cool and I love everyone in this. My brain cuts out about this I’m so sorry babes. There is not a cast recording but there IS an original cast bootleg on youtube.

Holy Musical B@man!-- If you liked the goofiness of 1960s Batman and Robin, but think “man, these guys should’ve been able to swear! And also should have had a candy themed villain!” this is the musical for you. Also if you’ve heard of the very queer Harry Potter musical that JK herself tried to sue over, it’s made by the same group <3. As usual with Team Starkid, whole thing is up for free on youtube by the creators.

Firebringer-- Speaking of the same group... Cave people sapphics who I think are bi or pan. I love them and they’re all so dumb. Also, if you’ve seen the “I don’t really wanna do the work today” vine, that comes from this. I do not remember any of the second half other than one of them taking the ring the other is proposing with... to propose. And the “*blows kiss*” “fuck no, Zazz” “duly noted”. Kind of like a shitpost musical. Once again, free by creators. Actually, check out any of their musicals.

The Prom-- In Indiana, Emma just wants to take her girlfriend to the prom, and in response, the PTA cancels it. With some help from some broadway actors looking for good publicity, they manage to pull it off. So, to summarize, teen lesbian gets gay uncle who knows what she’s going through!! This musical makes me cry every goddamn time. There is a movie now, and I’m very happy about that because *high profile gay rep on netflix*, but I personally did not like the direction they took with it. They put a weird amount of emphasis on biological rather than found family in the movie, and were a little too forgiving when it came to trauma from family for being gay. Also, they took away Emma being butch. This was sadly (loosely) based on a recent true story from I think 2012. Also, was the first gay kiss in the Macy’s parade. You know those movie musicals the straight girls in theater like? The music is similar, but gayer, and for some reason that makes me so fuckng happy. I think it’s because non-queer people have had musicals for so long, and those normally have a 60s vibe, and the music in this does too and it feels more classic?? Sapphic promposal song (het at the beginning). “Unruly Heart” and the end of Act 1 will break you. Please ignore the bad wigs.

Spies Are Forever-- GAY SPIES GAY SPIES GAY SPIES!! Curt Mega (played by... Curt Mega) lost his partner Owen during a mission. Now, he’s just trying to get back into spying like Owen would want. I fucking weep every time. Also, a song about comphet (at 6:36)!! And here is a video essay on how it relates to the Lavender Scare. I want you all to know that everyone also headcanons the femme fatale spy in it as either a lesbian or aroace, which uh, makes sense. Also high quality videos put up by creators. They had Jewish people making fun of Nazis while writing this, but “Not so Bad” is... kinda bad. “Torture Tango” has so much goddamn sexual tension and becomes devastating.

Hadestown--  If you know the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, it’s like that, except capitalism part 1. Orpheus is a poor musician, Eurydice dies, just like the myth. Except, the Great Depression post-apocalyptic setting that works better than it probably should. There are actually 3 soundtracks: the concept album, off-Broadway, and Broadway. I personally don’t like the concept album purely based on vibe. Off-Broadway has an absolutely gorgeous sounding Orpheus, and if you’ve heard of the disaster that was Spiderman: Turn Out the Dark, then you’ve heard of surprisingly amazing Broadway Orpheus Reeve Carney. The Fates are gorgeous and I’ve decided they’re queer. Tony’s performance link here. Explores relationships, with Hades and Persephone’s aging relationship mirrored by Orpheus and Eurydice’s relatively new one. Anyway, unionize.

Jasper in Deadland-- If you know the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, it’s like that, except capitalism part 2. Jasper is a teen who’s best friend Agnes is pretty much the one good thing left in his life. His mom left, he got kicked off the swim team (he’s manic pixie dream boy in this, especially for swimming), and Agnes dies at the beginning trying to show Jasper that she’s brave and he should be too. So, he bravely ventures into Deadland to find her, meeting Gretchen the tour guide along the way. He also finds out that since he’s still living, he can bring memories back to the dead. Songs like “Stroke by Stroke” (he’s uh, definitely a teen, guys) and “Living Dead” (I shared a prinxiety animatic of that on here a while ago).They blend Greek, Norse, Egyptian, Christian, and whatever Dante’s Inferno counts as together to create Deadland. Story’s kinda hard to follow from the soundtrack, so if u wanna learn how it all ties together message me.

Death Note Musical-- Okay babes, here’s where it gets tough. It was written originally in English, and there is a spectacular English concept album, but the only productions have been in South Korea, Japan, and I think Taiwan. Listen to it anyways, find a bootleg of it with english subtitles. It has so much gay tension and also a truly ethereal character who seems to be a lesbian who is also either demisexual or demiromantic. If any of y’all saw the anime like me, it kind of cuts out the arc after episode 26. I personally thought it was actually a better story for it.

Alice by Heart-- Okay, this one makes me fucking cry every goddamn time. In WW2, these poor goddamn kids are all alone in the Tube System (is that what y’all call it? genuinely asking here) with none of their parents but still some grownups. Alice’s best friend Alfred is dying of tuberculosis, and to try to have one last thing together they start reading Alice in Wonderland, only for Nurse Hart to rip it apart to try to separate healthy Alice from dying-from-TB Alfred. It doesn’t work, and Alice proclaims she “knows it all by heart”, She tries to linger in the story with Alfred to have more time with him, he keeps trying to move it along because he’s dying and wants to finish it one last time. Themes are growing up and grief I guess.

Last I checked, there is a bootleg for all of these on youtube. Have fun!

[darlington-v]

I know different interpretations of a work are generally enriching and cool... but c!dream villan interpretations is like how to tell me you only watch Tommy without saying you only watch tommy.... which would be fine but its not a great place to be making statements about the whole nature of the dsmp lol

Wild speculation, but sometimes I wonder if like, because the dsmp didn't really start as a narrative, and a lot of fans don't nessecarily enter it expecting a narrative, but then there is one and the fandom is really discourse heavy and everyone is sort of excpeted to have an opinion while maybe not expecting to form one from the begining or not having a ton of experience with narrative in a way that would "expect" them to have an opinion or not take things at face value??, I don't know if I explained that well at all... and I don't really even think thats right nessecarily... but like wow sometimes some of the takes about power and government and villany...

Honestly, it makes sense!!!

I think something interesting is like.... looking at how animatics have shaped the like tone and culture of the fandom essentially. Like, an interesting fact that I didn't really fully grasp until SUPER recently is like...

c!Wilbur out the gate admits he is manipulating c!Tommy. Like his first youtube video on the Dream SMP he admits his goal is to manipulate c!Tommy and people like c!Tommy into helping him achieve a potion ("drug") empire to monopolize on potions because there were a lot of people on the server who like to min-max, which is to put all of your effort into this one specific skill essentially. so like... i know minecraft doesnt have a skill tree but if it did, it would be putting all your points into that one specific branch of a skill tree. So he wanted to exploit the labor of all the TommyInnits to.... maintain a Potion Empire.

THIS IS A LONG POST BC I GOT CARRIED AWAY SO BUCKLE UP

And I don't think a lot of the fandom who joined later on knows this. I certainly didn't until like a week or so ago? Like... I knew c!Wilbur had been manipulative from the start because I'm a mod of (shameless self promo incoming) @dsmpanalysis and we have a lot of different POVs in that mod team and discord and we talk about it really frequently. I joined the fandom as someone who was really big on L'manburg ESPECIALLY crimeboys, and have turned into.... *gestures vaguely to my blog*

And ngl I owe a lot of it to @1-michibiki-1 in terms of c!Dream "Apologism" but all of the mods there have expanded my thoughts and views on the storylines of this narrative.

My application consisted of like largely essays about like... how I think Dream was the villain but he was meant to be the villain because you don't get any insight into his character WHICH.... IS A FAIR ASSUMPTION AT FIRST GLANCE. People are easily villainized when you cannot get a glimpse into their thought process. It's easy to dwindle someone down into this flat character and starting out I knew Dream didn't stream the SMP on purpose.

And I personally came to the conclusion of "Oh! So Dream is supposed to be the villain." However as the story continued and I learned more about what Dream went through I began to realize that... it's more than likely a form of a red herring. My opinions on this were immediately solidified when I watched Ranboo's 2 MIL stream because both Ranboo AND Dream agree on enjoying red herrings.

There have been MANY times were Dream has said that c!Dream is a complex character and he's not a wholly evil guy and there have been times where the narrative has honestly just proved that.

Anyways, what's important though was that... I learned most of this from other people who were more focused on c!Dream rather than myself. Eventually I shifted from c!Tommy to c!Ranboo and c!Techno after c!Tommy betrayed c!Techno and I began to realize.... everything I learned before hopping in wasn't exactly what it seemed.

Part of this is because I'm older, I heavily identify with c!Techno's sense of loyalty and philosophies on government, but I especially identify with the anguish c!Techno voiced in... a lot of lore but especially the lore around Doomsday.

I'm not 16 anymore. I don't always feel wronged by adults, or older people in my case, whenever they absolutely have done something wrong by me, but I do feel wronged by my close friends. I also felt like c!Tommy's sense of loyalty didn't line up with mine after what felt like him constantly flip-flopping and refusing to understand c!Techno's morals on government didn't line up with his.

In short, it was easier to identify with Tommy in these animatics versus in the actual stream content because c!Tommy is played by a 16 year old. I'm not a teenager and my line of thinking doesn't entirely line up with people that age anymore. It's harder to place myself in the same shoes of someone's OC who is played closer to their actual age, because I'm not that age.

Regardless, I was still on the c!Dream is a villain train. I wasn't ever like... c!Dream is repulsive I hate him, but I was like omg hot villain lad go brrr.

Even when the first like... mellohi, panic room, Ranboo lore stream popped up I thought "Oh! c!Ranboo corruption arc?"

And I was excited because I really wanted this shy, nervous character to turn into villain buddies with his good pal c!Dream. I'm a total sucker for villains and corruption arcs and all that good shit.

SO I STARTED GETTING REALLY INTERESTED IN ENDERSMILE. I'VE BEEN ON ENDERSMILE SQUAD OUT THE GATE. NOT THE SAME WAY I AM NOW, BUT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED THEM TO TEAM UP.

So... upon not really keeping up with c!Dream and being relatively??? indifferent? I don't think I started arguments on c!Dream back then, but I might have. But I remember like... starting to participate more whenever c!Dream came up and looking more into Dream's character BUT ESPECIALLY TALKING WITH OUR SERVER'S C!DREAM SPECIALIST MICHI ABOUT DREAM A LOT MORE.

And because Michi has been a watcher since day one and was a DTeam fan rather than a SBI fan, she was able to provide me with more information on how the server worked pre-Tommy but especially pre-Wilbur.

Now, you could definitely argue well Michi probably has clear bias but it made sense to me when I looked back on how the storyline had been constructed and was going along, and everyone in the server talks a lot about our own biases and how we want people to maybe not lean so hard on them. Michi would also provide like anecdotes on what had happened and I'm sure links were probably provided at one point but the point was I felt like Michi had no reason to lie or manipulate how the story was told and if she did, eventually someone would have pointed it out because... Group of like... right now it's around 20 or more analysts but I don't remember how many at the time there were. POINT BEING, WE'VE ALL GOT POINTS TO PROVE AND IN MY EXPERIENCE NOT MANY OF US HAVE BEEN SHY TO PROVE THEM.

So if anyone ever had any differing opinions they would be talked about and we literally had and still have discussions.

REGARDLESS.... I DIDN'T FACT CHECK IN DEPTH BECAUSE I THOUGHT PEER REVIEW WAS ENOUGH WHEN YOU HAVE LIKE HOURS UPON HOURS OF STREAMS TO WATCH.

Anyways. Eventually I started paying closer attention and looking more into c!Dream lore but only recently have I started to triple check before speaking about c!Wilbur lore because I know everyone has biases and while I did trust everyone's thoughts and analysis in the discord, whenever I make essays I typically like it to be largely air tight and if theres a mistake, I want it to be because I forgot not because I just trusted what was said. Plus, I wanted to get down to the specifics of how Wilbur had always started with manipulation on the mind.

SO I WATCHED HIS FIRST VIDEO ON THE DREAM SMP.

AND WHAT I WAS NOT BY ANY MEANS EXPECTING WAS WILBUR TO SAY WORD FOR WORD, VERBATIM,

"SO WHY DON'T I START AN INDUSTRY WHERE I USE THE TOMMYINNITS OF THE WORLD TO WORK FOR ME, TO CREATE THINGS THAT THE MIN-MAXERS OF THE WORLD WILL WANT."

Like... this is in no way an attempt to like hardcore villainize c!Wilbur like everyone does Dream, it's just more so to like REALLY outline how far off a lot of fandom interpretation of c!Wilbur is....

Because of SBI focused animatics.

Now, when I joined I watched A LOT of animatics that really highlighted like... Wilbur being this self-loathing JD-esque, "I destroyed it because I had to because the world was against me because no one loved us, Tommy" type of character. At least... that's what it came across as.

And it definitely highlighted the fact that Tommy was a victim, which he is. He is undoubtedly a victim and no not even any dream apologist can change my mind otherwise. Tommy, despite being an instigator sometimes, didn't deserve the abuse he received.

But these animatics never shown the fact that c!Wilbur started L'manburg as a shady ploy to exploit people like c!Tommy and vilify c!Dream so he could have power.

And that was easy because Dream and Tommy had wars before. They had spars and pranks and here's the plan to take back my disks and here's the plan to out smart the thieving little child etc etc.

And all of the animatics I watched never mentioned this. Neither did the recaps though. The recaps gave the events flat out, there didn't sound like there was bias, and honestly I don't really know if there was rather than like... a lack of nuance. And it's hard to provide a recap with that much nuance in a short period of time for a youtube video, to be perfectly fair.

However, this creates a perfect formula for entirely rewriting the history of a server. c!Wilbur quite literally fucking succeeded TO A META LEVEL. He slandered and ran smear campaigns against Dream and like he even does that with Sapnap in the beginning. But what's crazy is that it transferred over into the meta! Most of this fandom understands Wilbur as a victim of mental illness, and yeah maybe? He definitely wasn't mentally well by the end of pogtopia, but he never started out with honorable intentions. L'manburg was never a victim, only its citizens. The TommyInnits of the world.

I just think it's like... such an interesting case study. Because this is like... an opinion like shared by at least half of the fandom, but the vilifying of c!Dream is shared by MOST of the fandom I would argue. Which is like even more crazy for me because that was c!Wilbur's goal!!!

LIKE I GO INSANE WHEN I THINK OF THIS BECAUSE HIS REACH IS JUST TOO POWERFUL. HE'S NOT EVEN ENTIRELY REAL, JUST A MANIPULATIVE PERSONA OF SOME BRITISH GUY.

And I mean... maybe people who have watched Wilbur's video on the SMP still maintain this idea that Wilbur wasn't always the bad guy, but honestly... I wouldn't be surprised if their introduction was still an animatic. Like bias is hard to check and I'm not going to lie I could have sworn I watched both Wilbur's AND Tommy's video on the SMP in the beginning and yet I STILL was a ride or die for tragic yet on some level still honorable Wilbur and a resilient Tommy.

Like... upon watching Wilbur's first video... possibly again I was surprised because I thought I did watch it like right before I even started watching the streams and yet I was still so invested in c!Wilbur as this tortured anti-hero.

It took 6 months of... not being in an echo chamber, full of multiple different people of different ages, different stream POVS, and people who joined the fandom at different points in time.

IDK IF THIS WAS EVEN ENTIRELY RELEVANT IT JUST FELT TANGENTIALLY RELEVANT AND THIS WAS SOMETHING I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT FOR A HOT MINUTE AFTER LIKE WATCHING WILBUR'S FIRST VIDEO AGAIN.

TLDR;

SBI CENTRIC ANIMATICS HAD A LASTING AFFECT ON THIS FANDOM AS IT'S HARD TO GO BACK AND ACTUALLY CHECK THE NARRATIVE FOR SOLID FACTS FOR YOUR OWN INTERPRETATION BASED ON THE FACT THAT THIS NARRATIVE SPANS OVER HUNDREDS OF HOURS WORTH OF TWITCH STREAMS.

[cttrajan1206]

#arrow sys#Love them#Absolute sweethearts all of em#And suoer fun to sprint with

FIRST OF ALL SOBS /pos

second,,, i know nothing abt twst or obey me but grabby hands at a ramble; i will absolutely listen if you wanted to talk about it :starry:

JSHDJF [WAILS ALOUD] I TOOK SO LONG SO GET BACK TO YOU THAT I FINISHED ONE OF THE WIPS IN THAT TIME LMAO!!

Well!! This is good promo! :> The one that i was typing up is finished now and it's the obey me fic! You can find it here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33644662

Mammon and Movies:

Basically! Someone read another fic of mine that included my self insert flappy stimming and also getting mental breakdown so it asked if i could include a couple other stims in another work since he enjoyed my first one! I. Took that request and made an entire fic dedicated to him lmao. So! I asked it later on for what it would like me to include and which character to use and here we are!

This is a 4K fic of Mammon from Obey Me paired with a Neurodivergent!Reader. The plot is that of him showing you a magic trick and smoothly whipping out a movie ticket!! You've been wanting to ask him to see a movie with you for a while so this is perfect! So perfect in fact that you're overwhelmed with happiness and have a brief moment of being nonverbal as you're overwhelmed with euphoria. Then the next day, you meet him at the venue and the date begins! Other scenes include him allowing you to hold onto his bracelets as it's one of your stims (he wears one of every texture to accomodate to your tastes), you dissociating out of anxiety in a movie theatre and him helping to ground you, and finally! Him sleeping on your shoulder before the movie ends.

Ik i kinda just said the majority of the plot lmao but! Its just a fluffy and sweet movie date! I enjoyed writing it a lot although i got about 80% of it done a month ago and tyn didn't touch it for like 2 weeks sjdbsjd i was p sad abt that. I like finishing things quickly esp when its for other people!! But it was a comfort during a hard time to write this work at 2am under the light of a night lamp and to the tune of street life ambience.

ALSO I FOUND OUT THAT MAMMONS OFFICIAL SONG "ARE YOU READY" LEGIT HAS NO HOURLONG LOOPS AND THAT WAS A HARD HIT TO ME BC LIKE I WANTED TO LISTEN TO IT ON TV BUT IT WASNT HAPPENINGGG TWT WHY DOES EVERYONE LIKE ALL THE OTHER OTHER BROTHER'S SONGS INSTEAD LIKE PLSSS

Anyway lmao i'm quite happy with this work, it feels very round and finished to me which makes me happy because it means I didn't need to worry about editing it to feel satisfied. The requester liked it a lot too! Which made me super super happy. :>

Now!! For the twisted wonderland!! That’s a comfort plotline of mine that doesn’t really have a title yet and is still a wip that is written through my friend’s DMs BUT! I will also take the time to promo my twst writing blog! It is dead QvQ On there, you can see a bit more about the self insert in question but for now, i’ll just put the ship name as the title.

https://twst-sumi-squad.tumblr.com/

Kalim Al-Asim X Sumi Bint Khattar (Plot line):

So!! This one stemmed from me drawing something out of self indulgence and to show it to my friend, I described Sumi B in full and then I told them about my ships and around that time I had like five love songs I was obsessed with. And for each of them. I had. A separate animatic. For like at least 1 ship, the average was two but one had three. Sumi B was the centre of the most ships but not the only one. Anyway!! I told my friend about this and asked if I could dump my ideas onto them! They agreed and I started with a summarised version but then realised I needed a bit more build up so I started to write it in a bit more detail. Hah. It ended up being a Lot More Detailed but even then, I would write the scenes in a much more fluid and descriptive way if it were Real Writing so! I call it a Plotline. It is very long.

The plot itself is. long now. it’s a slowburn lmao because most if not all of my self insert ships tend to be slowburns. But this one? This particular self insert? Sumi B? Yeah she’s the only one with trust issues so she mothers the BIGGEST slowburns known to history. It takes them a year before she even considers him a friend despite seeing him every day and also having multiple deep conversations with him. Anyway though, this one is a big comfort becuase it has something I didn’t really dare to do before. Kalim, the canon character, falls in love with my oc first. Normally I have it the other way round becuase I’m too scared to assume that I would be like, deserving or like desirable enough for someone to have a crush on me. But with Sumi B, even I have a goddamn crush on her lmao. I indulge myself a bit with this one and really play around with emotions and!! In the most recent scene! We have finally reached the part where she actually starts to love him back! :D

I started this one a loooong time ago, at least a month and maybe two? It was Intended to be finsiehd in one night and then i got carried away and my friend got invested and then I ALSO got invested and so I started to develop the plot further so make it more interesting and keep the buildup going. It’s very fun and though i try to limit myself to summarising actions and dialogue, i fail. very often. so it often has little tidbits of more beautiful sentences and tension lmao. 

This particular fic is based off of my imagined animatic for the song “Would you be so kind” by Dodie! I didn’t know about the song until i saw other people’s animatics and I ended up taking it and running away haha! I’m currently really happy with it however I am really dreading the day where I actually write it out properly. If I don’t? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll post the plotline by itself. I have another fic just like it, one with a different self insert who (in fact) is very very close with Sumi B and considers her his older sister, that i ALSO wrote in semi detailed plot lines in someone’s DMs. Both are massive comforts to me and though i love them, their plot lines are so goddamn long that i will dread the day i decide to write them all out.

So uhm!!! Yeah!! XDD Those are the two fics I was talking about! I hope you enjoyed my small ramblings about them haha. I’m starting college soon though so I fear I might have much more time for fanfic.

[7ven-devils]

A really long overanlysis of minecraft servers.

This will be my only warning, this shit is really long.

I promised this to @ivi-prism 2 weeks ago (hi, i am Svetla) but university said no and then i feel my notes were incomplete so i have to do more research.

So let's talk about anarchism and capitalism. As a future political scientist, really bugs me how the fandom and some content creators (im looking at you techno) misinterpret both theories.

Yeah this will be a overanalysis about the political, social and economic system of two minecraft servers. Why? Cause i like analysis things like this and finally i can solved what is the system of hermitcraft and thats make me happy.

Things to consider:

First im not native english speaker and im lazy so im not often write or talk in english so my typos can make Doc really proud.

Second i don't watch Dsmp i only know things about the server by the animatics, the constant information wich pop up here on tumblr, the crossover fanfics and the tiny vods that youtube insist play when i have activate automatic reproduction.

Third i tried to simplified this much as i can because this analysis i maded talking with my friends (also political scientists) and a former professor, so it got quite technical while i was writing it.

And finally don't take this seriously, I'm not trying to insult anyone, I only started this because the hermitfandom started saying that hermitcraft was capitalist and then everyone started comparing the Dsmp with hermitcraft saying anarchism vs capitalism, that's why the dsmp entered into this analysis.

Guys, seriously chaos isn't anarchism and "sucefully economic" isn't capitalism, even paid with "money" (diamonds in this case) isnt necessary capitalism.

First, mini glossary:

I understand a server like a Society/State (country) with Mr Weber definition. In really vague words a State is anyone that has a territory and has legal control of violence (the laws, no the abuse of authority).

I understand the private property as the hermits bases and/or shops (i suppose only base in dsmp? Idk)

I understand the mass production as the farms and resources.

Capitalism is a economic, politic and social theory, wich it considers private property essential and tends to monopolize the resources 'cause this it also considered private property.

Anarchy means "without government" it has its origin in the Ancient Greece. And Anarchism theory is just a society free from any political authority, but respecting the liberties of the others.

A Failed State is which one lose control of the legal violence, and can't provide the peace, essential human rights and the basics for a normal lifestyle to its people.

I think thats all the bored shit (i hope so). Now the interesting shit.

Why hermitcraft isnt capitalist?

Short answer, their idea of private property is not the same as capitalism has.

Long answer, even if they have their own stuff, they had a really strong sense of community and dont really care if someone take things from them.

We can see this in the beginning of season when Iskall take some mini blocks from Etho and he didn't really care (yeah, iskall "paid" him, but later i will explain this) or the multiple times Grian "borrow" things from Iskall and Mumbo in season 6 or Scar in season 7, the team ZIT constantly take things from each other and i can go on and on with examples, but the point here is this couldn't happen if they had a capitalist society because this would break the "private" part of private property and mass production.

Basically their friendship made so strong their sense of community that they are basically inmune to capitalism, Uncle Marx would be proud of them (not really, but would be funny). So they are communist? Nope, communist don't believe in private property and the hermits does.

But you just said-? I said they dont has the SAME idea of private property as capitalism does. They still have their bases, farms and shops, but for them their private property isnt sacred like in a capitalism system would be.

They're respect each other things because they appreciated the effort and values the time the person puts on their buildings and not only because doesn't belongs to them (and obviously cause theyre frends, but shush, this is a overanalysis, the obvious things doesn't have place here) i mean even for the shenanigans they are really polite and try to cause the least damage possible not because is not of them but because they valued the person.

Basically the famous honor code of hermitcraft.

What about the economic system and the shopping district?

Lets talk about the elephant in the room.

If Hermitcraft isnt a capitalist system, why they have a economic system based in diamonds?

Well, despite the exchange based in money for resources or services is a principal characteristic of capitalism, it isnt exclusive of that theory.

The money is a social consensus, cause barter has becomes obsolete and gold isnt cheap or infinite to use as payment. And basically, this is why we use money on this days (if you want to know the history of money ask to your trusted historian or Wikipedia).

What does this remind us? Yep, diamonds and iou's are a consensus too. When the 1.16 came out some hermits tried to change to netherite as payment and didn't suit, so they ignored it and continued with their current payment system.

And as much as Mr Smith likes to say that this is how the free market (and his stupid invisible hand) works, capitalism needs the monopoly of resources and people who works to pay for those resources.

But in Hermitcraft nobody really controlled the resources, anyone can go and collect their materials or made a farm. They just decided don't do it and go and buy it, because they save the time to go and collect for themselves, in other words they paid for the time.

Various hermits say they saved so much time go and buy the materials instead to collect themself or trade with the villagers (cause theyre the worst and all of us know it) thats why the barge and lookie lookie at my bookie are so profitable.

The shopping district it wasn't a thing before season 4, i dont really sure how it worked before, because i started watch in season six and sadly i have a boring adult life to saw the old seasons, but i assume it works in the same way that the trades the hermits does between them to accord a discount or a collab, and speak directly with the interested hermit or directly take it and pays what's considered it was fair, like iskall did with etho.

Like i said all what's happen in hermitcraft is a consensus, even the shopping district.

So yeah, that isnt a thing that would happen in a capitalism system, probably you would be dead, because "how are you dare to entered to my property", or in the jail, "because thats not yours".

So, what is hermitcraft?

For the surprise from much of you, Hermitcraft has an anarchist system.

What?! But their server is so peaceful, they don't steal from each other, they doesn't griefing, hows that possible?!

Well, the anarchism isn't really a violent political theory, at least in its beginning, actually anarchism is one of the most peaceful theories i studied, thats why i dont really thing it will worked in our society, but work in a server of 24 friends. Its too idealist.

I don't really study all of the thoughts corrents of anarchism because they are a lot. But the one we are interested is one of original thought corrent, The Mutualism, this in contrast with their cousin Communism doesn't believes the private property was something bad and considered like one of the rights from the individual, but different as capitalism because like i said before it wasn't sacred and communal things will exist to help others to start or recover.

Proudhon, one of it intellectuals, considered not paid for the work of the other it was a form to violate their liberties and feel horrofied with Marx when he said we have to abolish the private property.

The mutualists believes that each person should possess a means of production, either individually or collectively, and the products obtained would be trade in the market for the amount equivalent of their work.

This sound familiar, isnt it? Hermitcraft works in this way.

The thing with anarchism is they don't believes in a government over the people. And the hermits doesn't have one, yeah there's Scar being the mayor, but he isnt have a power over the rest and only is in charge of the "cowmercial district" even aquatown isn't part of his jurisdiction, his function is more of organization, like when we put a friend in charge to organizing part of a roadtrip.

It's the same with Xisuma figure, we all put him in a position of the admin of hermitcraft, but the truth is he isnt the only one with admin commands (but apparently some or all of them losed their admin status, at least in one of the last tango's streams, he hasnt it anymore) and various hermits said that he is more like an ambassador of them in the legal things of the server.

The hermits take all of they decisions in group and in the majority of things all of them needs to be agreed with the decision or they simple doesn't do it. And this is a characteristic of the mutualism because for them anyone are over the other.

And if you aren't already bored at this point and you put attention to what i wrote of the concept of private property in the mutualism, you would see it is practically the way hermitcraft works. They make their bases and farms, recolect resources and sell what they don't will use, buy mostly to save time and paid for the price what they considered fair. Yeah i know sometimes they do some farm specifically for one shop, but this is more "yeah, this is my thing" (Tango and Iron; Ren and wood) or a division of activities "if you do that, i do this".

The perfect utopia.

What about the Dsmp?

If you do it to here, congratulations.

So what about the Dsmp, i entered here because i want to read of them and the only thing i read was about hermitcraft.

Well, the Dsmp only entered in the equation because much of you said they were an anarchist server, but i see it more like a "failed state" and when i was talked with an exprofessor he agreed with me.

I know the term of failed state is controversial and is almost obsolete, but is the best way to describe the server and stop said it is anarchist.

So why failed state and not an anarchist state? Because they have a government (or apparently multiples) a failed one, but is there, if it were an anarchist server wouldn't have one.

Usually the failed states are known for being violent and volatile places in which ones their governments can't provides the basics to their people to live, normally are places with ethnics conflicts, civil wars, authoritarian governments or states in wars. The most common examples are Haití, Somalia or Syria.

And i am sure you can see the similarities with the Dsmp, so yeah, theyre chaotic but not anarchist.

The wars ruined the stability from the server, have a multiple sides and a megalomaniac for admin, but the goverment still there and they are fighting for the power wich wouldn't happen if the server were anarchist because anarchism don't believe the power should be possess for someone.

The server simply is failed state wich struggles under a violent fight for power.

--------------------------------------------------

If you read this far, you're a hero and had my gratitude for read my useless thoughts. Maybe some day i do it other overanalysis of this servers. I hope you enjoyed and dont confused so much.

Thanks for read.

And if there are some angry economist with me for "misrepresent" the capitalist i am completely open to a debate, my only condition is it would be in chilean spanish ;)

[artbychromo]

Fan Artist Interview!

oh my gosh @anchoviesinthenightsky ;w;!!!!! I’m amazed you made this, what a sweet thing to do, ahaha. It took me a hot minute to actually answer these, since this time of year is a little wild... 😅

Feelin’ kind of shy, so I’m just going to tag @umbreonix​... Could be fun to look back on?

How many pieces of art do you make in a month? in a year? :’) It depends... If I’m excited about a fandom, I’ll usually play around with a new idea each week. But if I’m between fandoms/too busy IRL, that usually drops to just one piece per month. So... ~4 pieces in a good month, and 20 pieces per year? (also, do animations count as just 1 piece? because the 2 animatics I’ve done took a CHUNK of time to finish, ahahaha)

How many of those do you upload? If I finish a piece, I usually upload it lmaO. So like, 90% of things? For fun, here are some luberto WIPs that I’m not sure I’ll get around to finishing any time soon... 

How many fandoms have you created art for and what are they? Oh god, I don’t think I could count... My most recent/involved fandoms were: Luca, Breath of the Wild, Dorohedoro, My Hero Academia, The Adventure Zone, Haikyuu!!... I’ve also done one-off pieces for like, Castlevania, Six of Crows, She-Ra, and whatever else. A looooot of personal D&D art. And then we get into like, long-ago days of doodling Bleach and Naruto on my homework 😂

What are your top 5 fanart pieces based on likes/engagement? Awww... 1. this piece I did for the TAZ finale  2. a very silly Haikyuu comic 3. this!! comic about sassy Revali that the voice actor himself commented on!!! 4. a sweet piece with Jesper and Wylan from Six of Crows 5. ooo my “phantasmal and respendent” TAZ piece

What piece of fanart do you wish had gotten more attention? why? Considering I usually draw for rarepairs and OCs, I’m pretty content with how much attention my stuff has gotten. 😅 Buuuuut I guess since it’s that time of year, it would be nice to see my Over the Garden Wall piece get a little love:

And I think my first Luca fanart has a kind of charm that’s overlooked ;v;

What piece of fanart have you spent the most time on? LMAO my kallende D&D animatic took ~6 months to finish!! And this rilas epilogue piece took about a month, on-and-off.

What's your favorite kind of comment to get? Any comments!!!! Are wonderful!!! But oh geez questions in my replies/inbox that start a conversation are AMAZING. And I do melt over big rambly blocks of tags... Or any comments that highlight a specific part of the drawing, like an expression or gesture or outfit, haha. 

What’s the angstiest piece of art you’ve made? Mmm none of my stuff gets too angsty... I did this disappointed Revali when I was tired and sad, and ooo this rilas piece was done after Silas died in our D&D meet (but then we were all okay haha)

What's the fluffiest piece of art you've made? uhhHHHH all I draw is fluff!!!!! One of these ones, maybe?

Do you create crossover pieces? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve created? uhhhh I think in my freshman year of college I drew an FMA x A Very Potter Musical crossover. And I draw AUs sometimes!! Like that rilas sea monster AU!

Have you ever received hate on a piece of art? Only like... twice? In my history of this blog? Guess it says something that I remember that though, boooo

Do you create smut? If so what kind? um! yes, but just doodles, and for my eyes only, haha. I don’t think any of it’s very good >>””

Have you ever had art stolen? I think I’ve had stuff stolen and put into youtube compilations? not sure otherwise

Have you ever had a fic written based off your art? Yes ;;;;;w;;;;;!!!!!!! Thank you Eli!!!!! ;;;;;w;;;;!!!! And I think there have been little things, like bits from my art making it into people’s fics... :3c

What’s your all time favorite ship? It’s cheating maybe since they’re OCs, but rilas will always be special :>

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will? I don’t know about WIP, but there are a few pieces I’ve posted that I want to re-do pretty badly because I’m just not satisfied with them. But then, I always prioritize new pieces over that sort of exercise when I have creative energy...

What are your strengths as an artist? I think, when I put effort into it, my posing/compositions can be pretty effective at being either dynamic or tender. I like to think my background in graphic design gave me an eye for like... presenting things in an interesting way. And expressions, I get very picky with them, ahaha. 

What are your weaknesses as an artist? Everything!!! Everything. My style is super inconsistent, which can be nice as far as flexibility, but really it means my stuff never turns out quite how I imagine because I just don’t have that much control. Clothing and folds frustrate me endlessly. And even though I get some nice comments on it, I think I need to work on my understanding of color & light a lot; I usually have to “fix” my muddy colors with lots of adjustment layers and overlays. Lately I’ve noticed a pattern, where I imagine a big, beautiful, dramatic piece in my mind, and it doesn’t turn out nearly like I expect in the end;; 

What are your favorite tools to make art with? tbh my most fluid stuff comes from just good ol’ pencils and a sketchbook, but I’ve been using a wacom tablet and photoshop for a while. My friend let me use their iPad & procreate last month and it was?? So cool, I’d love to try that out more.

What colors do you like to use the most? Why? I see a lot of warm oranges and yellows in my recent stuff, haha. I think it just fits well with the literal emotional warmth I’m trying to capture. 6.6

What are your feelings on creating comics? They’re intimidating, but rewarding! The few times I’ve managed to finish a comic, even a simple one, it’s been so fun!!!! And they seem to always get more engagement... but my ideas & energy usually lean more toward, you know, single-frame-art.

What was the first fandom you created art for? uhhhHHH the earliest "fandom” I remember drawing is homestar runner LMAO I think the first fanart I posted online was for... Hetalia, maybe? 

What’s your favorite piece of art you’ve ever made? oh....... there’s no way I could choose. I’ll just throw this bokuOi haikyuu art here because it’s definitely a contender:

[words-with-wren]

what is grief if not love enduring?

not me blasting sad songs and writing for an hour before retreating to youtube to watch animatics of funny bits to Cope.

The last part was written very soon after Tommy’s stream, the rest was written after the streams yesterday/before Tubbo’s one today.

Basically me just being emo and writing everyone’s pain!

______

The corridor of the prison stretched into darkness but Sam didn’t stop moving. His grip was tight around the trident he held, his pace brisk and quick and sharp. He moved down one long, endless hall, and then another, and then another. 

    How long he had paced through the cold, dark halls he wasn’t sure. Again and again, looking for clues he knew he wasn’t going to find. Sometimes he dove into the dark depths of the water surrounding the prison (the tomb). Sometimes he ventured into the painfully bright of outside, stood on top of the prison, covered every inch of it again and again and again. 

    “Sam - Sam please!”

    The ghost of a boy’s voice chased him endlessly. The desperate pleas of his final moments. The words Sam had ignored.

    “You’re going to have to trust me.” 

    He had asked for trust. Asked for faith. Asked for so many things and he had failed. Failed. Failed. Failed. 

    And Tommy had paid the price. 

    “You remember when you visited me in exile? This is worse than that.” 

    Tommy had been desperate. Afraid. So, so very afraid. 

    Sam knew why. And yet he had stilled ignored Tommy’s frantic attempts at help. He had ignored Tommy’s lowered guard, a guard he only lowered when he was desperate. 

    “He was mine! He obeyed me immediately. I didn’t even have to ask him to destroy his armour by the end. It was almost too easy. Too fun.” 

    Dream’s laughter echoed through the corridors. 

    No matter how much he tried to convince himself it had been necessary, Sam couldn’t rid himself of the guilt that ate him alive. 

    The halls were cold. 

    Sam kept walking, searching for a culprit even though he knew who was really to blame.

~*~

His cheeks were burning. A fire that still wasn’t as bad as the ache in his chest, a stinging that was worse than any physical pain he’d felt in a long time. 

    It hurt, but he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, even when he pressed his sleeve to his face to try and dry them, to relieve the pain even a little. 

    Ranboo trudged through the snow, a few flowers still hanging limp from one hand, the other pressed his sleeve to his face. 

    He felt… numb, in many ways. The ache was strong, threatening to overwhelm, but so was the desire to just sleep. 

    He should have done more. 

    The cottage came into view and Ranboo looked up, blinking his eyes, and taking a shaky breath to keep back the rest of his tears. 

    He’d forgotten how much it hurt. 

    Fitting, really. 

    He’d almost made it past the house when the opening of a door caught his attention. He dabbed at his cheeks again, trying to stop them stinging, to hide the fresh scars that were no doubt noticeable. 

    “Hey mate!” Phil called, stepping out of his house and leaning on the edge of the bridge between buildings with a grin that Ranboo suddenly wanted to punch. He balled his fist, the flowers in his hand drooping. When he didn’t respond, Phil’s expression flickered. “Everything alright?” 

    “No,” Ranboo said, his voice catching slightly. “No, not really.” 

    How could he explain? 

    “What’s up?” 

    Phil’s concern seemed so genuine and Ranboo couldn’t help but feel so angry. Angry at everyone who only cared after it was too late. Angry at everyone who hadn’t done anything, himself included, who had let this happen. 

    “Tommy’s dead,” he said, and the words felt heavy as he spoke them, like a finality. 

    (The flower sat on the path, limp and forlorn and nobody came). 

    “What?” Phil’s voice was almost amused, as though he were holding back a laugh. Ranboo balled his fists tighter, not caring that he was probably cutting into his palms. 

    “He’s gone,” he said. “He was trapped in the prison and Dream…” He bit his lip. It was better than the burning cheeks. 

    “Oh.” 

Phil’s expression barely changed. He was silent for a long moment, knuckles white on the railing the only sign of his emotion. “I see.” 

    Then he turned abruptly and returned inside, shutting the door behind him. Ranboo swallowed thickly, determined not to cry anymore. 

    He hurt enough already. 

    “So Theseus finally fell.” 

    He started, turning to see Techno standing behind him, arms crossed, axe in one hand, Steve’s lead in the other. Ranboo nodded, swallowing again and taking a shaky breath. 

    “What happened to your face?” Techno’s voice didn’t change, still as steady and monotone as always. Ranboo blinked. 

    “When… when I cry. My tears…” It felt silly to say. 

    Techno didn’t answer, just gestured with one hand for Ranboo to follow him. He did, suddenly wanting to bury his face in the polar bear’s fur and cry without it hurting. 

    It wasn’t fair. 

    “I don’t even know why,” he said quietly, barely aware he was speaking. “I mean… he was always mean to me… I…” he trailed off, realizing Techno wouldn’t want to hear his rambling. 

    Techno didn’t answer for a while, setting Steve up beside the fire before opening a chest. Ranboo stood near the door, fidgeting nervously, spinning the flowers in his hand. 

    “Loss is funny like that,” Techno said finally. He glanced up from the chest, withdrawing a potion and holding it out to Ranboo. Ranboo took it, offering him a small smile. 

    “Thank you,” he said quietly. Techno grunted, and Ranboo took that as his cue to leave. 

    As he did, he heard Techno muttering something under his breath. He wasn’t sure exactly, but it sounded like “... I know… be patient. I won’t let him get away with this.” 

    The door to Phil’s house was closed and his windows dark.

~*~

It felt almost wrong to sleep in a room that he had effectively stolen from a dead man. Jack couldn’t sleep, staring at the ceiling, trying to stop thinking. 

    Somehow, he kept thinking of L’manberg. Specifically, a day a few weeks after he had joined the country, while he and Tommy were standing on top of the wall and they were laughing. 

    He couldn’t even remember why - maybe it had something to do with something Tubbo had said or done. 

    He just remembered laughing. Remembered the sun on his back and Tommy’s eyes sparkling with mirth and his loud, obnoxious cackle and laughing so hard his sides ached and he had tears running down his cheeks and he couldn’t breathe. 

    He curled onto his side, shutting his eyes tightly. 

    He remembered lying on the van with Tubbo and Niki and Tommy, pointing out stars and making up constellations. 

    He remembered standing over a cold crater, annoyance mingling with simmering anger and Niki’s frustrated and furious expression. 

    When had it all gone so wrong? 

    Finally, he threw the blankets aside and stepped outside onto the balcony, looking out over the land. It all felt so… empty. Just yesterday he looked out here with pride and excitement - part of him was looking forward to the challenge of keeping this hotel from Tommy’s grasp when he returned. 

    And now he was never going to return. 

    A glint of light caught his attention and he glanced down to see a figure standing in the moonlight. 

    Sam Nook. A silent sentry. 

    Jack wondered how long he would stay there, waiting for a boy who would never return home. 

    He gripped the edge of the balcony, feeling the cold wind and stared at the tree and the bench just across the way. 

    He didn’t care anymore. 

    He just wanted his friend back.

~*~

“I’m sorry.” 

    Puffy sat on the edge of the crater, staring down at the glass that reflected the stars and the pit that lay underneath. 

    “We all really let you down, huh?” 

    L’manberg was so quiet now. It had been for a long time, but Puffy refused to let its memory fully die. 

    Now, she felt like it had for good this time. 

    “You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone. You shouldn’t have had to go through that at all.” 

    She held a bundle of flowers - white and red, like the ones Ranboo had been collecting. Somehow it felt fitting to sit here, over the land he had created. 

    “I let you down. I failed you. Even before you went into the prison. I should have visited you more in exile. I’m sorry.” 

    She pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes, taking a shaky breath and shaking her head. 

    The words felt empty. 

    Nothing she could do could make up for what had happened to him. 

    She just had to make sure it didn’t happen to anyone else. 

    Taking a deep breath, she stood. Carefully, she held out her arm, opening her hand to let the flowers drift down to the glass that covered L’manberg. 

    “I heard there was a special place,” she began softly. “Where men could go and emancipate.” 

    The moon was cold as it shone on the lone woman, singing softly in the rubble of a home.

~*~

He paced the halls, the halls that felt more empty than ever. He’d barely unpacked from his travels, barely settled back in and now all he could think about was the pit in his chest and the ache in his bones and the lingering guilt he had carried for months. 

    Eret ran a hand through his hair and let out a long breath, stopping in front of his throne. 

    Realistically, he knew he couldn’t have done anything. 

    Part of him wondered if this would have happened if he’d come home just a little earlier. 

    Part of him wondered how different things would be if he hadn’t let greed and naive foolishness blind him a long time ago. 

    He began pacing again, aimlessly moving through the halls of his castle. He missed them. He had missed them all for such a long time and he had only just been starting to rebuild those relationships. 

    Without meaning to, he found himself leaving his castle, walking the prime path, feet leading him aimlessly up the path. 

    He stopped in front of the shrine Puffy had made earlier that day. 

    Tommy had forgiven him. Tommy had been the first to forgive him, when Eret had long ago given up on any chance of that happening. 

    Tommy had given him hope he could be forgiven. Given him hope he could redeem himself, could rebuild the relationships he had broken. 

    With a long sigh, Eret reached up and took off his crown, glasses slipping down his face to reveal his white, white eyes. 

    Clutching both to his chest, he lowered his head, closing his eyes. 

    “Thank you,” he said softly.

~*~

Snowchester was cold. 

Tubbo pulled a blanket over his shoulders and sat in the corner of the room, Micheal’s chicken sleeping on his lap. Micheal was asleep as well, curled in his boat across the room and Tubbo couldn’t help but be glad. 

    It was cold, and no matter how many blankets he pulled around himself, no matter how hot he cranked up the fire he knew he couldn’t drive all the cold away. 

    Part of him wondered if he’d be cold even in the depths of the Nether. 

    Part of him didn’t care. 

    It wasn’t true, surely. 

    Sam was just playing another prank on them. A cruel one, one that was Tubbo’s biggest fear, but that had to be it. 

    Right? 

    But Sam’s voice had been shaky and his eyes wet and deep down Tubbo knew. 

    This was worse than last time, somehow. Last time they hadn’t had a proper goodbye, last time Tubbo blamed himself, last time it hurt so, so much. 

    But Tubbo had had L’manberg. He had had to keep pushing forward. He had things to distract him. 

    Now he had nothing. Nothing but the cold shell of a house that had no heart, no soul. 

    Because that was always Tommy’s job, wasn’t it? 

    It was always Tommy who made a house a home. A nation a place to be proud of. 

    They had won and somehow that made it all so, so much worse. 

    They had won, and Dream had been locked up, and they had been able to go about their lives how they wanted to. They had won, and that should have been the end of the story. The book should have closed, the song should have finished. 

    Happily ever after, right? 

    Tubbo pressed himself into the corner, burying his face into the feathers of the chicken in his lap and fighting down tears. 

    He couldn’t do this. 

    Not again. 

    Why did Death favour Tommy? 

~*~

Tommy woke with a chocked gasp, one hand flung above his head, shaking violently, a plea still on his tongue. 

He shuddered, breathing deeply, shutting his eyes and regaining his breath as he slowly realized he wasn't in immediate danger. 

It was warm, but not the blistering heat of the Nether, or the wet, unpleasant heat of Dream's cell. It was a pleasant warmth, like sun shining down on him. 

The ground was soft as well. Not hard and uneven like the floor of the cell, but soft and comfortable, what felt like grass tickling his arms. And wind blew softly over his face, a slow, lazy breeze that made Tommy relax more. 

Then he opened his eyes and stared up at the blue sky above him. A few stray clouds drifted across the sky and despite the still aching of his arms and head, Tommy smiled softly. 

He was out. He wasn't trapped any more. He could feel the wind, could see the sun, could hear the trees rustling nearby. He was out and he was finally free. 

(What had happened? It had been dark and hot and terrifying and Dream had been there and he had been violent and harsh and…) 

He didn't want to think about that. With arms that were still shaking slightly, he pushed himself up and looked around. 

A few trees dotted the area, a river flowing lazily past. Hills rose around them and standing a few meters away, his back to Tommy, was a figure. 

He was tall, wearing a coat that flapped slightly in the wind. A beanie was pulled firmly over his hair, and his shoulders were more relaxed that Tommy ever remembered them being. 

"Wilbur?" he called, unease and excitement mingling, together. His voice shook slightly, the panic not fully faded. 

The figured turned, revealing a familiar soft smile. It was strange, seeing Wilbur like this. Wearing the clothes he died in (he was dead how was he here?), a bloodstain across his chest, but smiling. Eyes soft, proud, sorrowful. 

He looked at Tommy the same way he had when Tommy claimed independence. 

"Welcome home," he said softly. 

Tommy blinked up at him, suddenly aware of the hand Wilbur stretched out to him. He took it, letting Wilbur pull him to his feet and swaying slightly. 

Everything felt off. He was aching, pain pounding through him, but it didn't feel real. It felt as though someone else was hurting, but when he looked down at his arms he could see the bruises, could feel dry blood in his head.

"What happened to you," Wilbur said softly, cupping his chin and lifting his face. Tommy felt a lump in his throat at the softness of the touch, despite the involuntary flinch the action drew from him.

What had happened. He didn't remember exactly, everything felt like a dream. One that he didn't want to wake up from. This open field and Wilbur soft expression were far better than the nightmare of the last week. 

"I-" he began, looking down. Wilbur's hand drifted down to his arm, gently holding his elbow. Tommy followed the movement, seeing the bruises that littered his arms. 

(Dream standing over him, eyes blazing. Fists clenched, bloodied with Tommy's blood. He was holding his arms above his face, tears in his eyes, blood running down his cheek.)

He shuddered, despite the warmth of the afternoon. Wilbur lifted his hand hesitantly, pausing a moment before returning it. 

"Take your time," he said quietly. "It takes time to adjust." 

"Adjust to what?" Tommy asked, and he hated how small his voice was. "Wilbur where - where am I?" 

Wilbur glanced up, and Tommy did as well. His heart skipped a beat, his breath caught suddenly in his throat. 

He knew where they were. This was home. This was L'manberg's land, the foundations she was built upon before war and death had stained her soil. 

If L'manberg was here, unbroken, unspoiled. And if Wilbur was here, alive… 

Was Tommy? 

"Wil- am…" He trailed off, breath catching. "Am I?" 

(Dream was angry, more angry than Tommy had ever seen him. And the lava seemed to be laughing at him and the walls were closing in around him and -) 

He was breathing quickly, shaking his head, heart bounding. 

"No," he said softly. 

"Tommy-" Wilbur began but Tommy stepped back, pushing Wilbur's hand away. 

"No. No. I - I can't… what about my hotel? What about Tubbo. I can't leave I can't be… I was going to leave him behind, I was going to be done with him this was going to be the last time." 

He couldn't breathe. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around his chest and collapsing to his knees. The ground was hard underneath him and his breath was short, sharp, panicked.

"I'm not dead," he whispered. "I - I won. I can't let him… I left him behind. I - I'm finished with him he can't… he can't win." 

"Tommy." Wilbur's voice was soft, even, full of hurt. A hand lay gently on Tommy's back and he stiffened, remembering the past week of Dream's casual punches. But Wilbur's hand was steady, comforting and Tommy leaned into it despite himself. "I'm sorry." 

Wilbur's voice was so genuine, so full of regret that Tommy felt tears prick his eyes again. 

He was so tired. 

"Wilby, I-" 

He was tired. Tired of being afraid, tired of nightmares. Tired of not being normal, of freaking out over the smallest things. He was tired of Dream's shadow that never seemed to leave. Tired of losing again and again and again. 

"I know," Wilbur said softly and drew Tommy into a tight hug. Tommy didn't resist, curling into Wilbur's embrace, sobbing softly. 

"There - I had a hotel," he whispered. He wanted to do so much. He wanted to prove he could. He wanted to become someone, to prove that Dream didn't control him. Didn't own him. 

He wanted to do so much. 

He buried his face in Wilbur's chest, shoulders shaking, weeping for his lost childhood. 

At least here, maybe he could rest. 

[colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl]

For Those of You Wondering Why I Never Posted Undertale “Shattered Remnants”

Hi Everyone,

You can thank this update to whoever liked my previous post recently in the last week or so. As I hadn’t realized the last post I made, was the same one from the year I lost both my dogs whom I had helped raise since puppyhood.

Since then, I have worked on this story/comic a few times. But I did set it down for a while now. I have a constant idea of how to retool it. And still have plans for it. E.G. when I get better at it I want to create a sort of animatic that will be almost a in story animatic, I have the story and concept already created a few years ago. Although, I did change the story beats of the animatic script slightly, only recently. 

However, I have adapted my style since loosing both of the dogs I raised since puppies and nearly since birth. I have two wonderful dogs now, but I do recall 2018 was a sorta hard year for me. Not that other years haven’t equally been hard, especially recent ones for the entire world.

The last few years I have been working on other stories. One of said “Other” stories I may have written a year or so after my last post, and is also Undertale.

It’s called “Under Rock Bottom” at the time, and even recently I don’t believe anyone has used this term for an Undertale AU. I tried to make sure with my names when creating them, that they hadn’t been used in the fandom.

This story was initially supposed to remain a fanfic. But after some time I came back to it, and also created fan art. As I’ve worked on making more comic style stories lately, I found I may want to make this one a comic as well. But I can’t be certain. I still think it most likely will come to happen.

This other Undertale story, takes place several years after the events of the ‘True Pacifist’ ending when several monsters start disappearing. It looks at how the world has changed and how events have forced several individuals to conflict and work together, even if it’s with their worst enemy. That’s all I have to say about it until I decide I want to post it. The prologue and the majority of the first chapter (possibly split into two chapters) has long since been written out. But it’s a matter of correcting things and ensuring I have several chapters ahead before I post it. I will someday do this, but I can’t promise it’s soon.

I can say with confidence that neither of my Undertale Comics/Stories have been abandoned. I just am working on other things that I have worked the last several years on and am far more satisfied with getting out in the present. I do think on these often and revisit one or both every other month. I was far along in the written story for my original Undertale AU. But it’s still not far enough. Considering my style has changed again drastically, it will take time for me to go through and rewrite chapters I had nearly completed. I also changed my job due to the pandemic and now work for a medical facility as a secretary. Considering it’s above minimum wage it has things that require more from me, and naturally I’m still trying to adjust to the schedule I now work on. With that said I don't’ have as much free time or the ability to stay up and work on things as I once had, and often took advantage of.

I admit, I know my story beats well, but I feel I want to trim things and unnecessary plot points down in the story before I get there. I also planned on it running for Three Separate Acts, which acted almost like Seasons to a show. Although, my currently in development project is similar in having three acts acting like seasons, considering this is a original story I’m currently working on, I just want to devote more time to it and getting it out there. As I’ve worked on making it the last year and a half and am proud of what I have accomplished. It’s not saying I’m not proud of my other works, but for the most part I want to devote my time to the two big projects I’m currently working on. Eventually when I have the time I hope to return my focus to these Undertale stories. Maybe sometime down the road I will get them out sooner then I originally thought. However, this most likely will be in the fiction form and not the comic form until I can better find the time for it.

Thank you for the likes on my previously old post. I hope everyone has a wonderful day. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! Sincerely, Color Guard Sweet Heart

[luvielle]

Sa Ngalan Ng Pag-Ibig

(This has been in the works since September? I only got around to finishing this because of EBG haha. This fic was largely inspired by an Osomatsu-san animatic of ‘Sakura’ by Funky Monkey Babys and ‘Sa Ngalan Ng Pag-Ibig’ by December Avenue.

TAGS:

First @tchaiko-my-bae, I promised to make you cry but I’m not sure if I wrote this fic properly hngg.

To @un-beel-ievable​ tagging you child. Hoping this takes you down during EBG akjshd.

To @mobagehelllocal, who gave me advice on how to write angst. Thank you so much hngg.)

WARNING: Character death, angst, uhm... sad Leona-san?

Hope you enjoy? :3

....

The scent of iron lingers in the air before he sees you.

Leona frowns to himself when you greet him with a smile on your face, eyes roving over your form to ensure there were no injuries.

“Is something wrong, Leona-senpai?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, concern evident on your face as you peered down at him. “You’re making a weird face.”

The brunet clicked his tongue as he turned away, ignoring the giggles that escaped your lips at his expense. “Don’t you have idiots to watch, herbivore?”

“Don’t you have classes to attend, Leona-senpai?” You say in response.

Groaning at the sound of your voice, the beastman turned away in feigned sleep, his tail giving away his annoyance.

“Leona-senpai,” you say with your hands on your hips. “Come on, you don’t want to repeat another year, do you?”

You bend down to pull at the beastman, letting out a squeak in surprise when you find yourself being pulled into his arms instead. “S-s-senpai!”

“Herbivore.” 

You stop struggling at his silent reprimand, reluctantly melting in his embrace as you let out a defeated sigh. “Just this once, okay?” You whisper quietly with eyes closed.

Leona adjusted his hold on your form, ensuring that you would be comfortable as you slept in his arms.

“Just for a while,” he quietly whispered, wishing with all his heart that this moment would never last. “Just for now.”

….

The scent of iron lingers in the air before he sees you.

Leona wrinkles his nose at the sharp metallic scent in the air, grumbling in feigned displeasure as you wrap your arms around his waist in greeting.

“Leona-senpai!”

Ruggie waves at you from the lion’s other side, laughing at his dorm leader’s disgruntled look. “(Y/N)-chan~! Hello, hello!”

“No classes today?” Leona let out a grunt at your question, earning a laugh as you skip to match his long strides. “It’s a serious question!”

Leona quickens his pace enough to stay ahead of you, but still within your reach. “We have a free period today,” he tells you with a smirk curling at his lips. “Ah, but first years have to attend their classes, don’t they?”

Ruggie watches from behind as Leona continues to tease you with a smile on his face, quick to silence his laughter when you attempt to tackle the tall third year.

It was times like this when the hyena could appreciate your presence.

Only you could put a smile on the Savanaclaw dorm leader’s face like this.

….

The scent of iron lingers in the air before he sees you.

He doesn’t have to wonder, this time.

There’s blood on your lips and in your hands. Thick with that familiar metallic scent and red, so very red.

Leona is beside you in minutes, gently pulling away your bloody hands from smearing the red on your face. “How did this happen?” He tightens his grip on your wrist, not enough to hurt you, but tight enough to dissuade you from pulling away from him.

“I--” you cough harshly, expelling more blood as you do. “I’m okay, really!”

“Leona-senpai,” Jack’s voice interrupts from the side, his ears drooping down, betraying the harsh look on his face.

“What is it?” Leona says with a growl, impatient with the hesitant wolf before him.

“It’s not his fault,” you tell him after giving Jack what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s my fault, really.”

Leona frowns at you in disbelief, his tail swishing agitatedly behind him; the only indication of his current mood.

“I-It’s hard to explain,” you mumble to yourself, your words clear to him despite the low volume. “You don’t have to trouble yourse--”

“Try.” Leona rumbled out.

Jack offers to explain to his dorm leader, willing to brave the storm should you say so. 

“It’s okay,” you tell your fellow first year. “I can-- I can explain.”

And so Jack leaves, tail stiff as he eyes the dark look on his dorm leader’s face, but reassured still with the promise you silently give him with your smile.

“Can--” you hesitantly start. “Can I clean myself first? I-- It’s hard to talk with all the blood…”

....

Leona storms out of the Ramshackle Dorm after you tell him the truth of your condition.

“Magic and I don’t go well together,” you told him over tea and snacks. “Headmaster theorised that because of the lack of magic in me, because of the foreign magic I’ve been exposed to all year, well, it’s taking a toll on me.”

How the magic of Twisted Wonderland was truly twisted, you thought as you watched Leona’s figure leave the grounds on which you had started to call home.

“It’s like an allergic reaction. I had no magic to begin with, no resistance; nothing.”

You had no defense, nothing to your name, and so no protection was offered. It was cruel.

“So it’s killing you,” is his only reply.

You would forever remember the look in Leona’s eyes as he told you what you had feared. It would haunt you, you decided with a shudder.

“Yes, i-it’s killing me.”

The look he’d given you would have made even the strongest and bravest of men falter. 

Sighing to yourself, you busied in cleaning the room. Smiling wryly when you found the dusty remains of the teacup you had offered the proud lion. “Honestly,” you huffed, violently coughing into your fist when your body sensed the magic from the sand.

“Ah…” Crumbling down from beside the couch, you force yourself to ignore the pain in your throat. It would surely pass, is what you tell yourself.

Soon you succumb to the pain, your body deciding to shut down from the onslaught of pain and magic in your system. Sleep overtakes your form as gravity cradles you in its arms.

….

You don’t see neither hide nor hair of the Savanaclaw dorm leader in the following days.

It left you feeling empty, whenever you’d see yellow vests pass from the corner of your eye. You knew he wasn’t the only one to forgo the blazer, but still you couldn’t help but hope.

Jack did his best to bring you news of the wayward dorm leader, but even then it wasn’t enough. Ace and Deuce did their best, but the chaos they wrought with Grim in tow was too much, and so their interactions with you were heavily restricted. 

Epel often came along with apple pies and the class notes, somedays found him ranting from beside you about his troubles with his own dorm leader. He would go on for hours, checking up on you in between rants before resuming. Rook would come most days, to bring the wandering Monsieur Small Apple back to their dorm. It brought a smile on your face to see the two interact with each other, so Epel swallowed his complaints and allowed the blond hunter to bother him.

As for Sebek… Well, you had always wondered, but now you had your answers. He was like magic. The longer he stayed with you, the weaker you got. It certainly surprised everyone when you collapsed before the young retainer, his panicked shouts alerting both teachers and students alike. That was the last time you saw any Diasomnia students.

The rest of the first years stayed with you when Grim was barred from doing so, he was a magical creature and would only be a detriment to your health. You hated it, that slowly, but surely, you were being isolated.

Time passed slowly for you, until finally, you found yourself quarantined in the room you’d chosen for yourself in Ramshackle, all those months ago.

You were too weak now, to stand and walk on your own.

Crowley would visit, but his visits were so sporadic you often wondered whether it was a hallucination that he came flying from the window, declaring himself your gracious nurse for the day.

“I wonder how Leona-senpai is doing,” you whisper quietly to yourself, on one the days Ruggie came to visit with Jack. “He’s usually sleeping at this hour, isn’t he?”

Ruggie avoids your eyes as he practically shoves the bowl of soup into your hands, laughing as he excuses himself. Jack follows after his senior after you finish your soup.

He’d stayed silent as well, when you asked.

….

He had avoided you for too long, and it had taken its toll on the proud prince. Leona had decided, that day you shared with him the truth, to help you. Even if you were to part from him, at least he knew you were alive and well.

Crowley often brought up how his graciousness continued to search for a way to your home, but Leona found himself doubting the headmaster.

So he took to the library, going as far as to attend the classes he had missed. The bastard hunter eyed him with a knowing look before singing praises his way, it made his skin crawl. Leona hoarded everything he’d learned, locking himself in the laboratories during his free period.

All so he could save you.

It took a long while, but he finally found an answer after one too many discussions with Pomefiore’s vice dorm leader.

If you had no magic to protect yourself from the foreign magic found everywhere, why not slowly introduce magic into your system. The idea came to him during class one day, and Trein was very much displeased when he excused himself by jumping out the window.

Leona rushed to the laboratories then, and may have started a small fire. Crewel threatened to ban him, but that wasn’t important in the end. He had succeeded! And that was enough for him.

“Be prepared, herbivore.” Leona grins with all the confidence of a man emerging victorious from a hard won battle as he makes his way to the Ramshackle dorm.

....

The scent of iron lingers in the air before he sees you.

It isn’t a pretty picture, the one he walks into.

There is too much red on the white sheets of your bed, everything is too clean and yet, there is blood on your bed.

Leona almost attacks the ghosts that haunt the dorm, watching with mounting dread as the three shake their heads at his silent question, hats lowered in their hands to pay their respects.

“She was getting weaker everyday,” the slim ghost tells him, but there is cotton in his ears. “(Y/N) could barely even lift herself, but she tried still.”

“We left her for a while,” the largest ghost continues, ignorant of the cold seeping into Leona’s bones. “For lunch. When we came back, this is how we found her.”

Leona desperately fights the stinging in his eyes, deluding himself into thinking it was the dust from the old dorm. 

You looked so peaceful, if not for the blood on your clothes and sheets, no one would have wondered whether you were asleep or not.

“No one was with her,” the last ghost says, and it is the last straw for the once proud lion. 

Leona sinks down unto his knees, hands clutching at your cold ones like a child clinging to their mother. He doesn’t notice the ghosts leave, doesn’t move from beside your quiet heartbeat as he cries out in pain. 

Everything he did, it all amounted to nothing in the end. Nothing he did would be rewarded. He was a curse; to everyone around him, to you, the one person he loved.

Unbidden, a memory resurfaces to the front of his mind.

It was when you had come to wake him, to try and make him attend his classes. Before everything snowballed down.

He had asked then, what you would do once given the chance to return home.

“Hmm?” Leona grumbled when the sunlight hit his eyes as you moved away. “Well, I don’t know…”

“Hah? Don’t you miss your family, or something?” 

You playfully gasp at his hypocrisy, laughing out loud when his tail swats at you in displeasure. You tackled the downed brunet, crying out in surprise when he rolled out of the way and scooped you up before you could fall.

He should have paid better attention.

“I’m waiting for something,” you told him when you left the gardens. “Or well, I’m waiting for someone…”

He should have listened.

Leona cries into the bloodied sheets of your bed, hands holding tight to yours, wishing with all his heart, that this moment never came to pass.

If only he had stayed by your side, then maybe he could have seen you smile, one last time.

[nemo-draco]

The First Step

Hi all! Bit of a crossover piece here, courtesy of some amazing art on behalf of @rose-junk-junky on Tumblr, and @a-rae-of-sunshine, whose characters feature here along with my own. Long story short, saw some amazing animatics and art with Rae's characters in a Frankenstein-like scenario, and my guys jumped in with a cry of 'new friend!'.

To read off our cast, Whimsy, Fancy, and Whimsy's 'creator' (this AU's version of the Mayor of Burnsville) are the characters of a-rae-of-sunshine. The AU itself was thought up by rose-junk-junky, who I also have to thank for showing the Frankenstein Musical album in the animatics. All the rest are mine.

Hope you enjoy!

A First Step:

"If any being felt emotions of benevolence towards me, I should return them a hundred and a hundredfold; for that one creature's sake I would make peace with the whole kind!" Adam Frankenstein, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Their dreams were racing, blurred things, fraught with frantic energy and a sinking sense of wrongness that made them feel sick to their stomach. It was like they were stuck on a top, whirling from images of crackling electricity, to fire, to the ripping of stitches, to the sounds of people screaming in both anger and fear. But rising above it all was that one face, that one person, who's attention they had coveted the most, and the one they hated all the more for what HE'D DONE TO THEM-

"I should never have given you breath…"

-Awakening in a dark room, empty, filled with books and beakers, devoid of anyone-

"You're a beast to be feared…"

-Wandering in the wilderness, cold and alone, seeing others but always being met with screams and vitriol-

"By heaven we'll drag you…"

-The brief respite of the blind woman and her company, ruined when the others came and saw-

"And haunt you…"

-Fire leaping, climbing higher and higher, growing out of control-

"And banish your soul…"

-His face, their own creator, staring at them with such revulsion and hatred-

"From this earth!"

The nightmare went from formless to something concrete, Whimsy all but slamming down into their own body just in time to feel a rope slip around their neck. Immediately it tightened, yanking the reanimated faerie towards…

…A creaky, rickety platform of wood. One that somehow filled them with more dread and fear than they'd ever thought possible. The fear became something real, forming fire that leapt around the construct like it was some specter summoned up from Hell. A shadowy crowd appeared in the billows of smoke, voices like howling wolves as they screamed.

"Kill it!"

"It's a demon, a monster!"

"Be rid of the awful thing!"

They spun, pulled, tried everything they could to get away from the noose's pull, even slipping their fingers around the rope to try to yank it off, but nothing worked. And worse still, a numbness was seeping into their body, starting from their feet and working its way up to their ankles.

A face in the crowd leapt out to them, their eyes widening as they recognized their creator standing among the throng. Before they could even think, or read into the neutral, blank expression on their maker's face, they cried out like a drowning man casting about for a lifeline.

"Help me! Help me, please!"

Their legs grew stiff and cold, only weighing them down as they struggled to escape the noose, the fire, the awful drop...

"I'm alive!" They screamed, eyes tearing as they sought out their creator's emotionless stare, as cold as the deadening sensation creeping up their body. They were being pulled up the stairs, up to the gallows...

But somehow, even over all the screaming, the jeers, the fire, and the creaking pull of the hangman's rope, they could hear their creator whisper as though he were right next to them.

"No, you aren't."

"You made me!" Whimsy cried, feeling a slight give in the boards under their feet, hinting at the presence of a trapdoor. The fire climbed, the crowd howled for their death, the feeling of the end pulling their hands away from the lethally light weight of the noose. "YOU MADE ME!"

But with no inflection, no emotion, came the cold response.

"I reject you."

And with a snap, then came the short drop...

...And the sudden stop as their body thudded against the floor, thankfully a carpeted one that masked the noise.

Not that Whimsy, for the moment, had much mind to be thankful.

For the time being, their mind was frozen, limbs shakily drawing in to curl out of some instinctive reaction as they tried to figure out whether or not they were once again dead.

The feeling of their heart galloping in their chest, as well as the frantic gasping rushing in and out of their clenched teeth, contradicted that idea. Well, that and a slight sting radiating through their hip given that had smacked into the floor before the rest of them.

Sitting gingerly up and untangling themselves with a trembling set of arms, Whimsy sat in the dark for a spell, before deciding that this wasn't helping and stumbling to their feet. Their hands only shook a little as they found the doorknob, though as they stepped out into the hall the faintly cooler temperature jolted them to something that felt a little more in control...and drew their eye down to a plate that had been left next to their door. A quick sniff brought the scents of beef, some kind of vegetables, maybe bread? All of it was a little dulled though, the plate itself cool to the touch. This had been left a while ago, that was for sure...

It made them realize that they weren't even fully aware of what time it was. The most they could say was 'night' but the house around them was dead silent. Everyone else must already be in bed.

The notion was surprisingly relieving, Whimsy picking up the plate and deciding to head downstairs. Even the faintly chilled food was somewhat appetizing, especially since this would be the first time they'd eaten all day. Or…night? Whenever.

Despite their height, the reanimated (corpse) faerie was able to move stealthily down the hallway, to the stairs leading down to the larger part of the house. The…guy, Cab, who had brought them here had said that it was an old firehouse. When they'd gotten it set up, they'd moved the pole, somehow got a spiral staircase, and made the whole downstairs open to co-join the garage with the rest of the first floor, barring a little section for a bathroom and closet. That was a design choice that Whimsy'd been a little confused by, Cab's words that it was for 'Bee's benefit not really helping to illuminate much.

At least, not until the car sitting in the garage space started talking, during which that little mystery was cleared up in short order.

Whimsy had just come down the stairs when a faint noise caught their attention, their head jerking in the direction it had come from to see a very small figure sitting at the table. The most eye-grabbing feature was a small streak of silver running through a head of otherwise black hair, a tired shadow in the tailor's face despite the brief flash of nerves at the sight of the towering, stitched-together faerie (reanimated corpse). The pair stared at each other, Whimsy belatedly remembering that this was the person who owned this house, what had Cab called him again?

Either way, they couldn't exactly ask with their mouth full, so they made an effort to swallow a rather large mouthful of chilled beef and bread. He ended up beating them to actually talking though, voice quiet with an attempt at nonchalance.

"Glad to see you liked the food. We did have dinner a while ago, but you were asleep. We didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks," Whimsy muttered, once their mouth was free to reply, though they realized that they didn't really have anything to add or say. Funnily enough, Fancy seemed to have the same issue too, drumming his fingers on the table for an instant as his eyes cast around before lighting on the softly steaming mug in front of him.

"Do, you want some tea?"

Tea. Whimsy had a vague memory of it from when they'd spoken to the blind woman. A bit bitter, but warm. And, if something were to go wrong, then they could just leave, right?

So, even with the mistrust nudging at the back of their mind, Whimsy edged cautiously forward, carefully watching for some sign of underhanded play. It was a nervousness that was echoed a little in the tailor, Fancy looking up to meet Whimsy's eyes and, consciously or not, huddling down a bit like a fox that had come too close to a bear.

The faerie themselves edged quietly into the seat, nearly approaching calm before a metallic, humming voice spoke up from behind them.

"'Ey Whims."

Oh, right, and the car, the thought of which immediately had Whimsy changing seats to keep both Fancy and 'Bee' within view (and noticing with a silent shiver of bracing tension that the sleek, not all together large but still not small black car had rolled closer). Not that Bee himself seemed to take much offense, given his next, calm words.

"Thanks for switchin', by the way. Easier to talk when I'm not hollering over someone. Guess it's the exterior, dunno. Not many people expect the car to hold a conversation." Despite the easy tone, Whimsy couldn't feel relaxed, like there was a trap somewhere that they needed to keep an eye out for. They might not have been run out on a rail yet but it had barely been twenty four hours.

"People…ignore you?" Whimsy still asked, faintly piqued by the implication. Though they really couldn't guess what was worse, to be shunned or ignored. A faintly vindictive part of them hissed that to be shunned was worse, an ignored person could at least live among other people.

"Eh, sometimes. Though bein' innocuous enough to escape notice does have its perks. It's how I was designed after all."

Immediately Whimsy's brain got stuck on that last bit, to the point where they couldn't help asking.

"…Designed?"

"Originally I was made to be what you'd call a 'cursed object'. Maker just decided to be more ambitious and cursed a car rather than something like a toaster or doll or whatever. Demonically-charged rituals can be a mite bit unpredictable, apparently, 'cause I ended up with enough 'me' to say I liked the guy I was supposed to be causing trouble for a lot better. 'Course I couldn't stay when I kinda revealed I was alive, but, y'know, nice while it lasted."

"We're glad to have you either way, Bee." Fancy spoke up, it just striking Whimsy then and there that the tailor didn't seem surprised by any of what Bee had just said. Granted that could make sense, considering they had known each other longer. Things like this had probably come up before. It definitely seemed like it considering that Bee's tone was casual, even wistful in some spots, when talking about this person that he'd supposedly been sent to cause trouble for.

"Same. Great to be in a house where I can actually talk to people."

It was almost relieving for Whimsy to drop into the role of a spectator, but inevitably, the talk had to turn back to the last conversation partner that was sitting at the table.

"So, Whimsy, were exactly have you been? Thought I knew all the myths around here. Granted, most of them live in this house, but, well…" Though Bee trailed off, and certainly didn't sound like he was anything but calm and faintly curious, Whimsy couldn't help but feel the edge of an interrogation in the words.

"I, I've been…traveling…" Even to their ears, it sounded incredibly feeble. But they didn't know what else to add so they stayed quiet. At least, what they could say without getting into some worrying territory.

"Blew in from outta town?"

"Yeah." The faint grumble from the reanimated faerie completely contradicted the easier, flowing tone that the car employed, Whimsy remembering what they'd just learned about Bee and feeling…a sort of discomfort. Bee had sounded like he'd at least known something about what they went through, at least on some level, how on earth could he sound so put together? So calm?

It wasn't fair.

"What made you decide to come here? It's not exactly a prime tourist spot."

"…I wanted to meet someone."

"This a myth or a person?"

"Person. Didn't work out." To put it mildly, their memory flashing to a twisted, destroyed frame hidden partially under a sheet, sightless eyes staring up at them as that voice screamed about how they would not be tricked or cowed by a demon, a shambling wreck of a faerie-

"Sorry to hear that."

Whimsy didn't have an answer, and looked down as Fancy came back with a mug of tea. It was too hot to drink, but the warmth from the mug was more than enough to create a comfortable heat, soaking into their hands and driving the memories away. At least for the time being.

"Do you have anywhere else to go? I know Cab's probably said you could stay, but… do you have someone that might be waiting for you?" Bee asked, the somewhat quieter, hesitant tone a definite tell that this was a question that the car was aware might be difficult.

"…No."

Alone. All alone. Anything they might've had gone in a blaze of fire and all because of some bad timing. Anything they could have had gone because of a selfish, stupid creator that only cared that they'd taken their first breath, and not any of what came after.

A flash of pain went through Whimsy's temple, causing a wince that had them bringing their hand up before they realized what they were doing.

"You alright?"

"Fine."

The sound of something rustling off to the side caught Whimsy's attention, the reanimated faerie nearly jumping out of their stitched skin as they looked in the direction of the noise, only to see Fancy having reached to the center of the table for a napkin. The sudden movement on their part made the tailor jump too, though something in Whimsy's face seemed to catch his attention.

"Whimsy?"

They weren't fine. This wasn't fine. They felt horribly off kilter and the questions and constant presence of people were starting to take their toll. If it was just Bee, or just Fancy, Whimsy felt like they could have handled it better. But the fact that there were two relatively sharp individuals here, moving around and poking at them, stoked their nerves. Even though they knew that there was no immediate danger, that no one had lit fires or gathered up weapons, a part of them was consistently on edge, looking for some sign of trouble.

And they didn't want to! It was making their jaw clench, their head zinging with overstressed aches and pains. They were jumping at shadows and it made it hard to concentrate.

They knew that the full answers would only provoke suspicion, and perhaps an eviction. It wasn't like they'd told everything to anyone here. Though, the memory of the blind woman, and the distinct difference in how that had felt versus this, tugged at Whimsy, making them wonder both just what had changed in them to create such a feral anxiety, and also knowing exactly why.

How long before this ended too…

Another faint pain twanged at the muscles in their temple as a result, the feeling making Whimsy wince and murmur to themselves as they tried to knead the sensation out.

"What's, what's wrong with me...?"

There was a pause, Fancy seeming to shore up his nerve before taking a seat next to the steadily devolving faerie, a hand tentatively resting on their arm.

"I think, that there's a lot you're grappling with, and you need some time to process it all. I could be wrong about this, but it doesn't seem like you've really had anyone before Cab brought you here, and part of that might be due to your appearance. Which, isn't fair to you, you can't control that sort of thing, not completely. I would say it's normal, even expected, for you to feel angry, to feel hurt, and... perhaps even a little afraid."

The notion that they were, or had ever been afraid caused Whimsy to recoil, turning a hard look Fancy's way as the tailor jumped and also withdrew, his face a mask of tension. Bee too remained quiet, though Whimsy could just faintly hear the noise of his tires rolling closer by a half-inch. The standoff lasted for all of a few moments, before Whimsy remembered that Fancy did not have to let them stay in his house. Besides, he had drawn off, and didn't look ready to try touching the reanimated faerie again.

So, Whimsy let him be, and turned back to stare into their tea.

But the sight of their own reflection merely stirred those thoughts up again, the defiant bark of why would I be afraid answered with a smaller, insidious whisper of because your existence is singular, and you will always be alone. You don't even like the sight of yourself in the mirror, remember? Your creator wanted nothing to do with you, you were a mistake from beginning to end...

And when death finally claims you, who will even bother to mourn?

A small droplet of water splashed into the tea from above, Whimsy's grip on the mug handle so tight it was quivering.

"Whimsy...?" Fancy's voice came from the side, still worried sounding but there was a new edge of care to it that still felt so alien for Whimsy to hear directed at themselves.

"Oh geez…" Bee's voice murmured, with the same sort of softer, concerned tones.

"Damn that stupid, selfish..."

It was quick, a hissed few words on Fancy's part, but Whimsy had heard them clear as a bell.

They weren't able to move, much less address those words, and Fancy didn't acknowledge them either. Instead, he rested his hand atop their arm again and continued to speak.

"Whimsy, I need you to take deep breaths, just a few. Can you do that for me?"

They tried, but what came out were hisses that turned into gasps that felt like far too much effort for the simple act of breathing.

"Alright, that's a good start. Now I want you to try breathing in through your nose, and out through your mouth, Whimsy. It'll help you feel better, I promise."

Though there was that instinctive nugget of mistrust, there was also the part of Whimsy that was starting to believe that they were being smothered somehow, and the way Fancy had spoken before tipped the scales in favor of trusting the little tailor.

And, in spite of everything, the advice was helping. Whimsy found air coming easier and easier after a moment or two. But the whole experience had left them winded and exhausted, which made it a little difficult to hear what Fancy asked at first.

"How are you feeling?"

"I," Whimsy started, swallowing around a dry throat. "I feel…"

It took a moment to really parse through their physical symptoms, though eventually words came to describe the strange mix of light-headed and completely worn out.

"Dizzy. Air, I need, outside…"

"It's alright, there's a window next to you, I'll open it. Just stay sitting down, please. I don't think I could carry you if you fall."

Whimsy glanced to the side as Fancy moved to the window in question, getting it open with only a small bit of effort. The rush of cool air was a balm, Whimsy turning in the direction and leaning as much on the chair as their towering frame would allow.

"Just take deep breaths, it'll pass." Fancy's voice came, the faerie's eyes fluttering open for a moment and locking straight on the tailor's gaze. There was a slight flinch that went through Fancy as their eyes met, Whimsy frowning and looking away first.

Something in their face must've leaked to Fancy, because he spoke up again.

"Do you, want to try drinking some more of your tea?"

With nothing else to do, Whimsy did take a sip, the lukewarm liquid still having a soothing edge to it. There wasn't much left, but the whole episode had taken a lot out of the reanimated faerie, leaving them rubbing at their eyes and blinking blearily as they set the mug down.

That eventually turned into them letting their head rest on their folded arms, though they still tried to remain turned towards the window. It was later in the year, but the faint chirping of crickets was still prevalent over the dark nightscape outside. The sound was a calming, and vaguely relieving one, reminding the faerie of those times when they'd lived off the land and spent long nights under the stars.

Before they realized how…different they were. It was definitely an easier time.

They must've dozed off at some point, because a new voice speaking up brought them back to reality.

"Aww, lookit that. All tuckered out."

It was a voice they only somewhat remembered, given that the person in question had been present when they had been brought in to be introduced. A concealingly-dressed figure that had been quietly leaning back in his chair, looking them up and down with a set of luminously colored eyes that flickered through bright, sharp hues. Everything about this otherwise gray shape was nonchalant, from the way their frame settled to the way a similarly colored smile flickered into being over the wrapping covering the lower half of the face, there and gone. After everything Whimsy had been through, it was a different way to be greeted, and they still weren't sure if that was a good thing.

So, carefully, they opened their eyes and turned their head in the direction of the voice, and immediately caught sight of the same figure simply lounging in the chair next to them, even going so far as to tilt it onto its back legs.

"Tagger, please don't break the chairs." Fancy's voice came, the tailor gathering up the mugs before stepping away.

"Alright, alright. No fun," 'Tagger' replied, and performed the somewhat odd feat of dropping the chair back on all four legs with barely any noise. Though, as it landed, those oddly-colored eyes happened to see Whimsy's, and immediately there was a flicker of that smile again.

"Oop, guess somebody is awake. Hey, Whims. Think maybe you wanna catch some 'z's in your own bed?"

On some level, that should have been a good idea, though there was a part of Whimsy that definitely remembered why they'd come down to the kitchen to begin with, and therefore was not so ready to just head up to lie in bed, jumping at more shadows and quite possibly have more nightmares. So, instead of acquiescing, they settled in and closed their eyes, turning their head away.

"No, good here."

"But, you're gonna go back to sleep." Tagger pointed out.

"Maybe I will," Whimsy growled back, still refusing to open their eyes.

"Inna chair."

The rather frank observation did get a more venomous look from the faerie, though Tagger didn't look the least bit worried by the much taller Whimsy staring him down. It was such a strange switch to what would usually happen that they honestly weren't sure what to do, so they ended up breaking off the impromptu contest first to stubbornly shut their eyes, huddling in their arms like it was some sort of impregnable fortress.

And they knew exactly what Tagger thought of that given that the sound of him chuckling to himself wasn't long in following.

"Oh, you are just a treat, aren't you? Can see why Cab liked you."

Cab being the one that had brought them here, that had opened the door to his home. Admittedly, he'd neglected to mention the presence of folks like Tagger, or Bee, but he did mention the fact that he knew two faeries. They'd already made the decision, but it definitely helped things along. Still didn't endear them much to Tagger right now though.

"Bit of a backstory moment here, Whims. I was the first."

"…What?" The reanimated faerie couldn't help asking, their gaze turning back to Tagger just to see if they could spot some falsehood. A bit hard with a mostly concealed face, but for the most part it looked like he was telling the truth.

"The first one Cab made friends with. The very first. We've been paling around together for years! Think after that it was Patches, then we found Bee, then Sunny, and finally Manny. Oh, and then Fancy." Tagger elaborated, just as the tailor walked by and glanced over with a fondly sardonic look.

"Thanks for remembering."

"Welcome. Anyway. Guess we can add you to the list. That's if you plan on sticking around, a'course." Whimsy honestly wasn't sure if the implication that they would just up and leave was insulting or not, and ended up giving off at least half a surly glare which was probably why Tagger continued. "Well, you don't gotta make a decision just yet. It's only your first night. Plenty'a time if you decide you're sick of us an' wanna split."

Yeah, that language really wasn't helping, Whimsy's stare towards Tagger turning a touch more spiteful. Though, instead of being bothered by that, he gave a theatric shiver before slipping back into his seemingly normal, at ease persona.

"Yeesh, if looks could kill… Tone down the eyeballs kid, it's casual conversation." Then a brief flicker of that same, glaringly colored smile appeared over the wrappings covering Tagger's mouth, further conveying the mischievous smirk in his following words. "Though I guess someone does need to go back to bed. A certain grumpy someone."

And back to this again, Whimsy growing fed up enough with the whole encounter to just resettle their head on their arms and close their eyes. Though, in doing so, they completely missed the somewhat conspiratorial, and equally impish grin that Tagger flashed to both Fancy and Bee.

It made the feeling of being swept up into a pair of arms all the more jarring, Whimsy left blinking as Tagger arranged the reanimated faerie in a bridal style carry and spun on his heel for the stairs.

"H-Hey! What're you-?!"

"Wouldn't squirm too much, Whims, the staircase is only so wide."

A very good point, and while Tagger was apparently strong enough to carry someone that definitely was a good few inches taller that didn't mean that the stairs were necessarily going to alter their proportions to make it easier.

So, out of a perceived sense of self-preservation, they scrunched in their towering frame as much as possible, warily eyeing the metallic edges as Tagger easily ascended. After what felt like a harrowing few minutes, they both made it to the upstairs hall, though to Whimsy's surprise and more-than-slight annoyance, Tagger kept going until he was standing next to the door of their room.

"…You can put me down now."

"Whatever you say, Whims," Tagger replied with shadows of that same amused chuckling, to the point where Whimsy had the honest impulse to just scramble away and figure things out from there. Tagger's approach to them may have been novel, but the novelty was quickly turning sour. They weren't a child!

Still, Tagger was both deft and careful, setting them down on their feet and heading past them to a door down at the furthest end of the hallway.

"Night, Whims. See you in the morning."

And he was gone, leaving Whimsy standing like a silent sentinel in the hall. With nothing better to do, they went back into their room, quietly clambering onto the bed and staring at the night sky they could see from their window. The sight brought to mind the window downstairs, from which those familiar sounds had emanated that had provided a brief spark of respite.

Whimsy got up to crack the window open, sliding under their covers and looking in the direction of the small square that looked out to the outside world. The sound of crickets and the rush of wind through the trees accompanied them as the world grayed out, and they slid into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

A knock at the door snapped Whimsy awake, though it only felt like they'd just closed their eyes. Blinking bemusedly, they stared in the direction of the window, seeing a blue sky and trees losing their red and yellow leaves, not quite sure what was going on before the knocking came again.

Yeah, they…probably should answer that, shouldn't they? The thought of which was what teased them up, causing Whimsy to reel to their feet and plod around their bed for the door.

A familiar face was there, a more unique set of features given the black and white, checkerboard-like pattern that was stamped into the other person's skin. Cab was wearing the same primarily white pinstriped suit as yesterday, a not-totally open grin on his face that somewhat disguised his teeth, which Whimsy couldn't help noticing yesterday given that they'd resembled the sharper ones in their own mouth. Cab was tall, lean, though even a six-foot-tall frame didn't have much when compared to Whimsy's eight feet in height, and therefore he'd had to crane his neckless head back a little to look them in the eye, reaching up to hold his boater hat on his head.

Not that Cab seemed to mind, an ever-present grin on his face that sharply contrasted Whimsy's barely awake stare.

"'Ey Whims! Sorry for wakin' you up, but I figured you'd wanna get some breakfast. Ever had pancakes before?"

It took their wakening brain a few moments to figure out, firstly, what had been asked, and secondly, that no. Pancakes were a somewhat foreign concept.

"It's a food…right?"

"Yep, it's a food, a breakfast food. Wanna come down an' try some?"

Their curiosity had been piqued, so they did say yes and made to follow Cab. Whimsy found themselves waking up a little bit more, enough that they couldn't help noticing the confused look Cab passed them just before making it to the stairs.

"…What's wrong?"

"Nothin', nothin', it's just…did you sleep in your overalls?"

Were they being insulted? It was a little hard to tell, though from what they saw Cab wasn't the sort to just poke a beehive just for the sake of it. But, if it was sincere then what was even the point of the question?

"…Yes?"

"We could try givin' you some pajamas if you like."

"What are… pa-jamas? Is that even a word?"

"It is too a word! They're clothes you wear when you're sleepin'."

"People wear special clothes just for when they sleep?"

"Well, yeah, they're meant t'be comfier. Fancy could make you some if you like!" Cab's offer was nice, though Whimsy was decently sure that if they tried to go to the tailor to ask for anything they might end up giving the poor guy a heart attack. Hopefully, they thought as the pair reached the bottom of the stairs, Cab wouldn't bring it up with Fancy because they sure weren't about to.

"What're we talkin' about Fancy makin'?" The sudden presence of Tagger's voice made Whimsy jump, head swinging around to see the whatever-he-was in question leaning on the railing like he might as well have been there all along. Even though Whimsy knew he hadn't been just a moment ago.

"Hi, Tagger! We're talkin' about pajamas! Fancy could make Whimsy some!" Cab replied, as though the sudden appearance just didn't bother him.

"Oh, are we?" Tagger's reply had Whimsy preparing for more demeaning mockery, though they were somewhat thrown when Tagger instead looked them up and down before coming to a decision.

"Green or red. Maybe blue. But not light, definitely darker colors."

"You think so?" Cab's frank question was also somewhat disarming, to the point where Whimsy finally had enough and decided to break in.

"Wait, wait, what are you talking about?"

"If you were gonna get new clothes, those colors would probably look the best on you. Your fur's darker, so lighter stuff would just clash. And make you look pale. Paler. You get what I mean."

"Tagger's an artist!" Cab jumped in, the 'artist' in question looking more flippant.

"You can see my work around town sometimes. Usually at night. I've, ah, 'tagged' a lot of buildings." Tagger's expression clearly hinted at a joke, though as to what the actual joke was, Whimsy couldn't help not knowing. And Tagger didn't seem too primed to explain, muttering about how 'it didn't land' and turning away, heading out to the kitchen.

The kitchen at which Fancy was quietly helping a much taller figure, a similarly patchwork shape that was handing him plates to put on the table. Whimsy had seen this one too, back when they'd first come in. They'd been given a name, they knew, but the sight of a figure even remotely similar to them had caught them off-guard.

Though, as the moments of that first meeting had worn on, it became clear that there were differences.

This other creature, this other faerie, did not seem to need to blink, for starters. Pale blue eyes ringed in black faintly glowing and constantly staring, almost as if their owner had been trying to pick apart Whimsy by sight alone. They, no, she, was also considerably shorter, with the top of her head coming up to the middle of Cab and Tagger's faces. In physical shape, she resembled a doll with a simplified face, jagged-edged mouth and all. But, much like a faerie, she had more animalistic features mixed in, namely small but noticeable claws, legs that resembled a dog's or a cat's, along with two points coming out of the top of her head that resembled a pair of ears. Though, given that her skin appeared to be a sort of canvas material, Whimsy wasn't sure exactly how well they worked. Then again, maybe they did, faerie logic being the way it was. Whimsy had tried to read into it, but the general consensus was that people generally didn't know how faeries worked. At least, not inside and out.

Their creator might've known. But the ship had sailed on asking.

Before Whimsy could even have a hope of sitting down, a pair of fast-moving shapes dashed past their legs, hurrying to the table with the same frenetic urgency of a starving animal that had just been presented with the prospect of food. And they were both chanting 'pancakes' like the apparent breakfast would need some sort of summoning ritual.

"Hold on you two." Fancy's calmer tone hinted that he had no fear of either, despite the fact that one was a literal skeleton but dressed like a child they might see walking down the street, and the other looked like an uplifted wolf puppy, dressed in what looked like some sort of medieval garb. A tail wagged through the seat of the canid creature's pants, mirroring the flicking movements of a pair of batlike wings poking through the wrap covering the upper part of the small body. Somehow Whimsy knew, without being told, that this was another faerie.

Granted, they had the same feeling that they did when first looking at the canvas-made fae, that, just maybe, they might be too different to fit in with another faerie. The fact that this little one was so bouncy, full of life, didn't help that notion any.

They felt like a note in a song that didn't fit, Whimsy's feet already sliding back before an arm at their back caught their attention. A glance to the side revealed that Cab was the culprit, the sharp-toothed grin turning softer at the edges as they gave the reanimated faerie a little nudge; it's okay.

So, taking a deep breath, and feeling like the act of moving their own limbs was a momentous thing, Whimsy put one foot in front of the other and started moving towards the table. They weren't exactly making a lot of noise, even with their larger size, so they weren't sure what exactly made the little faerie-puppy's ears swivel around to them. Her head followed the movement, cherry-red eyes growing wide as she looked up and up…

I should say something, right? Whimsy couldn't helping thinking, the feeling of something squirming in their stomach as they stared down at the faerie-puppy's face, the mask-like fur around her eyes starkly contrasting with that bright scarlet.

"U-Uh, h-"

"You're tall…"

This hadn't come from the faerie-puppy, but from the little skeleton who had turned around while Whimsy had been focused on what exactly they were going to say. The small, child-sized skull had bright lights set in the sockets, glowing blue pinpricks that also stared up and up at Whimsy with the same stunned shock.

"Yep! This is…" Cab started, before trailing off and gesturing with theatric dramatics to Whimsy, inviting them to introduce themselves.

"Whimsy."

"…Whimsy! They'll be stayin' with us ferra bit, so, don't give 'em too much trouble, okay?" Cab continuation may have been meant well, but it seemed to hammer in the notion that Whimsy had done their introduction wrong. Not that they had much experience, but the emotional knife had already been pushed in, and twisted all the more by who exactly they were being introduced to. They didn't exactly have the best luck when it came to people, never mind children…

An image flashed through their mind, of a small child clutching his arm as they tried to skitter away from the faerie, eyes wide and liquid-y at the edges as they stared at Whimsy with nothing short of complete fright.

"Why did you do that? I-I was trying to help you!"

-a limp little figure in their arms, before a CRACK-BOOM rang out and pain blasted through their shoulder-

They blinked, hard, the images vanishing though the sight that greeted them when they opened their eyes didn't seem much easier. Both the little skeleton and the faerie-puppy were still staring up at them with frankly unreadable, worrying awe, and Whimsy felt fresh out of possible conversation. Thankfully Cab came to their rescue, though the reanimated faerie felt like a coward as they accepted his reminder of pancakes as an excuse to get away from the pair, and actually sit down.

However, the trials for the day were not done, as the one that slid in to sit on Whimsy's other side was the other faerie, the taller one with the staring eyes. It didn't help that once the dishes were all laid out, this faerie was taking over the actual doling out of the pancakes, and while Whimsy was trying their best to mirror what they saw the others do, it didn't keep them from feeling a twinge of nerves when those unblinking, unreadable eyes turned to them.

It seemed to take an inordinate while of them staring at each other for the other faerie to figure out that Whimsy needed a little help, a much softer toned, feminine voice speaking up and somehow very audible to them despite one of the children laughing about something nearby.

"Did you want one pancake or two?"

"…Can I get three?" Whimsy's request was answered as she doled out three pancakes, though they couldn't help the brief glance at the plates around, mentally doing the math as to whether or not they'd taken too much. It seemed fine, but their brief spate of figuring was interrupted as they realized that the other faerie had not stopped looking at them.

"…Wh-What is it?"

"You never mentioned your name."

Though the specific language wasn't used, this still felt like a request for a name, and not in just the 'what is your name' kind of fashion. Whimsy had certainly not forgotten that this was a faerie, a faerie that, even with their more placid demeanor, probably held to at least some of the old standards when it came to behavior. So, squaring their shoulders a little, they replied.

"You can call me Whimsy. I don't think I got your name either?"

"Do you want to know it?"

Wasn't that why they were asking? Maybe they should have phrased themselves differently…

"…Yes?"

"Then you can call me Patches." The frankness with which the words were delivered made it hard to tell if the other faerie was upset or angry about what they'd said, Whimsy feeling that uncomfortable, cornered-animal-type squirming settle in their gut as they maintained eye contact. Patches was the one to look away first, turning to her two pancakes and leaving Whimsy to awkwardly consider their own three. The pancakes themselves were warm, the smell more than appetizing though the sight of the faerie-puppy trying to slice hers with her fork while partially shoving them in her mouth caught their attention briefly. Fancy's efforts to get her to use the knife something that Whimsy paid close attention to. While there was a surlier, more combative part of them that groused who cares how we eat it, a part of them couldn't help pointing out that if they wanted to avoid attention, they'd at least have to give some semblance of good manners.

Though when they finally tasted the pancakes for the first time, Whimsy couldn't help the immediate impulse to scarf them down. They were good, the one with the little dots of blue in it quickly discerned to have blueberries and wasn't that just a completely welcome surprise.

Non-sarcastically meant. At this point they were seriously considering asking for more, though a quiet chuckle from Tagger cut through the euphoria.

"You enjoyin' the pancakes, Whims?"

Of course, their mouth was full when he asked, leading to them throwing the neon-eyed figure a glare as they considered the notion of whether or not they could rush through swallowing this. Deciding that no, they wanted to savor the pancakes, Whimsy instead made to turn their attention back to their food, and ended up having another distraction in the form of Cab proffering what looked like some kind of jug.

"Syrup's real good on those. Here, give it a try."

Whimsy watched with a growing-less-wary sense of curiosity as the golden…liquid (?) was poured onto what remained of their pancakes. And a hesitant taste turned into pure bliss as Cab had been proven completely right. The rest of the pancakes were quickly scarfed down, though a quick glance around the table showed that there were other things to pick at. They recognized the small bowl of berries, snagging a few and quickly eating those, though the one with the bacon going too quickly for them to have a hope of getting anything and with everyone reaching for some they weren't too sure they wanted to bother.

But, just as Whimsy had dropped back to more or less consider their empty plate, Cab reached over and placed down a few strips of bacon. At their surprised look, he pointed to his other side, to where the little skeleton boy gave a bright wave to go with his fixed grin. Whimsy's lips twitched, though the sight of the relatively normal-looking teeth brought to mind their own, sharp-toothed grin, and they kept their smile small. It didn't seem to deter the little skeleton at all though, the small bones clattering as the child jittered around with pure happiness at the simple show of gratitude.

It did help, a little, though Whimsy found themselves drifting towards a silent backdrop, more listening to the words of the others rather than contributing. They didn't think they would have very much to say anyway. At least, not things you said when everyone else was talking, laughing, telling jokes, and overall being far more light-hearted.

Was this what it was like? To be…normal? To have a home and a family? It was vaguely reminiscent of what they saw through the cracks in the walls of the blind woman's family, the strangeness of the current cast aside, and it made the role of the watcher feel all the more fitting and familiar. Safe.

"Whimsy," someone started, the faerie feeling like that veneer of security just tumbled down around them as they were yanked into the conversation. The source turned out to be the nearly silent Patches on Whimsy's other side, their eyes yanking to her like she'd brandished a knife. "Have you ever done this sort of thing before?"

Their brain stuttered out a little, because they knew the answer and also had the very certain knowledge that perhaps telling the whole group in any detail how that went likely wouldn't end well.

"I, uh, yes. A long time ago."

Not so long though, the reanimated faerie avoiding everyone's eyes as they drew inward, closing off from the rest of the group. It didn't stop them from hearing the somewhat awkward pause in their wake, the conversation stuttering to life with some sort of joke from Tagger that blurred in their ears. They didn't really feel like paying attention much anymore, the earlier, calmer feeling gone by the wayside as things seemed to move on around them. Before they knew it, everyone was getting up, doing their respective parts to gather up the dishes as Cab took over the washing of said dishes.

It felt like the rest of the group moved on like a hurricane, taking their warmth and energy with them. Whimsy was left clumsily fumbling along in the aftermath, glancing around in askance before handing their plate off to Cab who'd practically all but entreated the reanimated faerie to give it over.

Just as the porcelain left their fingers, a tug on their overalls caught their attention, Whimsy looking around before dropping their gaze even further, and finally catching sight of the faerie-puppy staring up at them.

"Y'smell really funny." Her voice had such an odd accent to it that it took Whimsy a few moments to realize that the words weren't altogether flattering.

"Uh…"

"Y'smell like a lotta different things. It's weird."

"Uh, Sunny…" Cab tried to interject, though he was still up to his elbows in the dishes from breakfast.

"They smell like apples, Cab!" Sunny insisted, before closing her eyes and taking in another deep breath through her nose. "An' trees. An' dirt. An'…"

Another inhale, and Sunny's eyes opened again, looking more puzzled.

"…Lightnin'. You smell like dead things an' live things. Which one are you s'pposed t'be? Are you like Manny or are you like me?"

It felt very much like the child was asking the question 'are you alive or are you dead?'. It was one that Whimsy couldn't help asking themselves sometimes, especially given the fact that the only side of the spectrum they'd ever see were the people in the villages, the towns. The very much alive, and the dead things were lying in their worm-infested, decomposing beds. Seeing Manny was definitely a first, but Whimsy knew that they weren't the same as the little skeleton.

"I, I don't know. I don't think I'm…either…"

"Why don't you know? Wasn't anyone there t'tell you?"

No, but the word wouldn't come to their mouth, as it came with ranting about how their own creator hadn't wanted them, had taken one look at them and fled, leaving Whimsy to deal with the world alone. Even with distance, and cares, that still stung worse than physical wounds. But, as they tried to figure out how best to answer, Sunny seemed to come to her own conclusion, reaching out from her perch and pressing a hand to Whimsy's front.

"…It's okay. No one told me either. But if you're smart, you won't need tellin'. You'll figure it out. That's what Tagger said. But Patches said I could ask an' so did Cab an' Fancy. Maybe they can tell which one you are." Sunny said, with the gravitas of someone delivering a prime solution, punctuated in the conciliatory pat they gave the leg of Whimsy's overalls. It was the sort of thing that they really didn't have any words for, but in lieu of just sitting there like a dullard Whimsy did try to add something to the conversation.

"That's…that's some nose you have."

…Didn't mean that it didn't sound any less lame to their ears. Though, thankfully Sunny didn't seem too off-put by the switch. If anything, she seemed proud that Whimsy had pointed it out.

"I've got the best nose. Ask anyone."

"It's the best. Can find a rabbit in the whole forest." Cab pointed out, Sunny grinning happily at the support.

"Yep!"

But, even with the lighter switch, the question that the little faerie-pup had asked stuck in Whimsy's mind, beating like a drum.

Are you alive or are you dead?

It was one that, for all their efforts to wrangle an answer, they couldn't quite manage it.

They ended up retreating to the couch again, settling down on the leather fabric with a quiet sigh. Was there a right way that that was supposed to go? It hadn't felt right at all…

The faint sound of someone walking caught their attention, their head turning to see Cab approaching, a somewhat nerve-edged smile flickering over his face as he came near.

"'Ey, Whimsy. You doin' alright?"

"Yeah, fine," they mumbled, looking away to consider their knees and feet yet again. It seemed to provoke something in Cab, his tone changing from moderately upbeat to quietly apologetic.

"…Hey, just wanted t'say sorry. Forgot the kids can be a lil' inquisitive sometimes, realized that y'prob'ly didn't want t'deal with that just after wakin' up. And don't worry about Sunny, she's just curious. An', hey, Manny seems t'like you."

Which was, reasonable, and a little bolstering, but Whimsy couldn't help a recriminating thought from slipping out.

"…Don't think most people would want their kids being around me…"

"Hey, hey no, none of that now," Cab suddenly murmured, sitting down on the table in front of the sofa just to be within the reanimated faerie's field of vision. "Whimsy, no one here thinks you're a bad person, y'hear?"

Whole mobs of people felt differently, Cab, Whimsy wanted to say, though the more biting thought wouldn't quite make it to their tongue. Instead, something a bit more lame slid out, the faerie letting their chin drop even more as their shoulders rolled inward.

"…yeah, sure…"

"Whimsy, look at me? Please?" Ordinarily, they might've rankled a little at the thought of anyone telling them what to do. But Cab's behavior, his tone, everything felt like he was actually trying to be nice, like he thought of them as a person. So, even though they didn't quite relinquish their hangdog, beaten-down demeanor, Whimsy did look up to meet Cab's eyes. The look they saw there was enough to give them pause, only having seen something like it once before. Beaming sincerity and emotion, to the point where the eyes glimmered faintly at the edges. Cab's hands came up to grasp Whimsy's shoulders, the touch only getting the faerie to look away for the briefest instant before their gaze immediately snapped back to Cab's, somehow sensing that what he was about to say was something that he wanted them to properly hear and absorb.

"Trust me, I know. This is hard. And it's okay to be freaked out about it. But, Whimsy, no one here thinks you're a bad person. And, if you want to, you don't have to be a bad person. You don't have to be. You can be just as good as anyone else, just as good a person as you want to be. Nobody can force you t'make a choice, only you do that. And, Whims, I don't know a whole lot, I'll admit it. But, anythin' anyone said, anythin' anyone did to you, it's not your fault, okay? That's on them, what they do, what they say. Not on you."

It was nearly everything they'd wanted to hear, but somehow, there was doubt. There was a part of them that couldn't help looking for falsehoods and tricks, that thought that what Cab was saying couldn't apply to them. And maybe it didn't. It wasn't as though Cab knew about what happened to the blind woman's house, or that child's arm, or a similarly patchwork shape underneath a sheet…

"…Why do you care? Why, why does this…matter so much to you?" It was an honest question given how suddenly Cab had come in and just started, offering them things like friendship and a place to stay. Though while Whimsy couldn't fault themselves entirely for asking it, a part of them couldn't help feeling just a little like they'd done something wrong as Cab's hands fell away, his eyes glancing around as though for help before he just seemed to decide to come out with it.

"…I, I've been there, before, Whims. Maybe not exactly where you are, but…I've been somewhere near it. And, in a lotta cases, what I'm tellin' you was, I didn' exactly have that many friends to start out. Pretty much none, actually." Cab's eyeline dropped, his whole, lanky frame drooping as though held down by weights. But he didn't stay that way for long, quietly looking back up to meet Whimsy's eyes though there was still a careworn shadow in his face as he smiled. "Kinda, y'know, when you see someone goin' through somethin' similar, makes you wanna stick up for people like that. T'help them out. Heh, sorry, prob'ly not makin' much sense."

"No, I, I think I get it." Whimsy replied, feeling a faint, nearly involuntary grin tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Thanks…Cab. Thank you."

"Welcome. Also, Whims, we're goin' out, by the way. Just takin' a walk. Wanna come with?" As Cab spoke, his hand reached out to Whimsy, gloved palm up with the fingers a little outstretched. There, if they wanted. But...

More crowds, more people, more feeling out of place.

"...No." They should say something else, right? "No thank you."

Though there was a slight downturn to Cab's smile, he nodded in that understanding sort of way before heading back into the kitchen.

"Okay. I'll see you later, okay, Whims?"

"…Sure." Whimsy more murmured back, a faltering feeling in their stomach that Cab probably couldn't hear them. The thought that the group would have to come back through the room, and would therefore have to walk past them, forced Whimsy up and back to the spiral staircase. Not to mention, Bee was right beyond the door, and if he were to come back…

Well-meaning or not, Whimsy didn't want to deal with really anyone right now.

They were nearly to their room when they saw a faint ribbon of light playing across the floor, from a door that was a little further down the hallway than theirs. A wary sort of curiosity pricked at Whimsy's conscious mind, the reanimated faerie skirting down the hall with a stealth that was a little disarming given their eight-foot-frame.

It was a skill well honed, though, and put them right next to the door in question. And, with the way it opened, they got a rather good view of the room beyond. It was a space filled with color, different reels of fabric here and there, gatherings of sewing material, a rack full of completed and partially completed clothing. There was a desk directly across from the door, a familiar figure there and quietly at work. Fancy was bowed over what looked like a mess of warm colored fabrics, hands a constant blur of motion as he carefully stitched one of the seams. Whimsy honestly could not have said what it was, both because of the angle and just by looking, they were hardly any sort of expert on clothing.

But, the more they watched, the more they found the motions, and the overall atmosphere of the room, soothing. Perhaps it was the fact that it was quiet, but warm, and perhaps it also had something to do with the stitches running through their own frame, but somehow it was enough to keep Whimsy rooted there, quietly watching, for what felt like a good few minutes, their eyes quietly roving over everything from the clothes themselves to other things scattered about the room.

On one of the upper shelves of the desk, standing out because it was different from the other nooks and crannies filled with sewing supplies, were a bunch of what looked like random objects. Small stones, what looked like some sort of porcelain figure of someone dancing, an apparent amulet with a piece of some kind of crystal, a small mechanic's wrench, and a folded piece of paper with a smaller, colored piece pinned to it.

They were too far away to really look at any of the other objects, but the wrench immediately brought to mind Bee. Had Bee given Fancy that? Were the other objects all gifts too?

With the added layer of detail, the view into the room almost became a mirage, something that Whimsy could almost imagine themselves stepping into and claiming as their own. Someplace warm and inviting, with objects here and there that had their own stories, their own place.

Their own home…

Though unfortunately, the spell was broken with a too-loud creak coming from the hallway, Whimsy not sure if they'd accidentally shifted or not but seeing Fancy pause and make to look up. Without thinking, they turned tail and tried to hurry back down the hallway as quietly as they could, closing the door of their bedroom behind them.

For a brief instant they stood there, listening, before realizing that there was light coming in through the window behind them, which would illuminate the fact that they were standing there. Stepping back, Whimsy moved closer to the window, and happened to catch sight of movement in the yard below.

Out of instinct, they drew back, but it still didn't mask the sight of Cab, Tagger, Patches, Sunny, and Manny all heading off for their walk. The younger children skirted around the older three, clearly in good spirits with Cab more readily following along. Tagger and Patches were going at a more sedate pace, though were clearly part of the group. Despite the strangeness of the people, it was much like what Whimsy had watched from a distance.

What would it have looked like if they had gone too?

It felt foolish, not to mention horribly vulnerable, to just stand there staring out the window, so Whimsy instead turned to the bed, still rumpled from the nightmare-fraught sleep of last night. It looked just as lonely and forlorn as they felt, the reanimated faerie letting their eight-foot-tall frame thump onto the mattress. They didn't want to sleep, for a multitude of reasons, but, really…they had nothing else to do. Nowhere else to go.

It was…frustrating. Wasn't this supposed to be better? Were they doing this right? Was there a right way? They didn't want to go on the walk. Cab hadn't tried to force them, but he'd seemed… not bothered, but maybe a little put out. Had he wanted them to come?

But, they hadn't wanted to. Should they have agreed anyway?

The thoughts were more maddening than helpful, and getting tumultuous enough that Whimsy forcibly cut them off with an irritated growl as they pressed their face into the pillow.

Of course, cutting off their own air really didn't help much, so after a few seconds the reanimated faerie quietly pulled their face away and looked to the side instead, fixating on the blue and the tops of the trees they could see through the window. They had the thought to open the window again, to hear the sounds of the nature outside given that so far, it had been the only comfort. Though the thought was in their head, and they could easily picture getting up to do it, for some reason, they couldn't make themselves move. Instead, what happened was that Whimsy rolled onto their side, eyes lazily focusing on the trees outside as they gently swayed in a breeze.

Time melted by like that, and they easily could have slipped into a doze that thankfully was too light for dreams. But, as they flopped onto their back, a knock came from the door.

It brought to mind Cab, though in a twist, the one standing there when Whimsy opened the door was Tagger.

"Hey, Whims!"

"Hi." Whimsy wasn't about to force more than a politely neutral tone, though Tagger's voice still kept that calm, devil-may-care lilt that showed he wasn't the least bit intimidated by anything, never mind the eight-foot-tall faerie staring him down.

"Missed you on the walk, but Sunny and Manny wanted to get you some stuff. Think you might be able to come out and play next time?" They weren't sure how it happened, but somehow Tagger moved past them, setting down a few objects on the dresser across from the bed. Two rocks, one lighter colored and with rounded edges, the other jet black with sharp angles. As Tagger placed down the little souvenirs from the hike, it struck Whimsy just how plain and bare the place was. Fancy's room had been littered with personal touches, but for them the only thing in the room was the furniture.

Well, it wasn't like they'd set up shop anywhere long enough to really acquire things of their own. The fact that they had an actual bed still felt like a marvel. Tagger was currently sitting on it but it still counted.

Still, Tagger's tone, and words, rankled enough that now Whimsy actually felt a rebuke coming to their tongue.

"I'm not a child, you know."

"…Funny you should say that. T'me, pretty much everyone in this house is young. Well, younger." Tagger's tone had softened a little as he turned back, the look in those oddly-colored, glaring eyes easing down to something a little less blinding. It brought to mind the conversation that Whimsy had sort of participated in, where Tagger had divulged that he had been the first one that Cab had befriended, and more or less kicked off the formation of this strange group. Perhaps then would have been a good time to actually dig in and find out more, but, well, they were here now. No time like the present, right?

"…How old are you?"

"Rude." Given that it was more than a little hard to read Tagger's face, Whimsy couldn't help the immediate apology that leapt to their tongue. It didn't help that Tagger's body language could have been either mock-affronted or real-affronted, his arms crossed and upper body turned away with his head back a little. Had they said something offensive, it wasn't like they would know…

"I, wait, I wasn't…"

Thankfully, Tagger seemed to get that facing in the opposite direction wasn't helpful, turning around and actually facing the reanimated faerie as he replied.

"No, no, it's okay. I'm kidding, Whims. Don't be so serious. And, honestly? Couldn't give you an exact, numerical answer. I just know that, in terms of age, I pretty much rank ahead of everyone, Fancy included."

The notion was honestly a bit of a shocking one, though it stoked to life Whimsy's curiosity. And, if Tagger hadn't been too bothered by that one question…

"What exactly are you?"

"Well…you know that feeling you get when you're out at night, alone, and you keep having the feeling that someone's behind you even though you're pretty sure no one's there?"

"…Yeah?"

"That's kinda in the same ballpark as me. 'Course, you might be a little more familiar with the rest of the family. The Call of Cthulhu mean anythin' t'you?"

"…No, not really."

"Don't worry about it. For reference's sake, think of it like the blackness between the stars, or like when you're swimmin' in deep water an' just happen to look down at all that nothin'. Just, all the stuff out there that's too big to know that might keep you up at night if you think about it too much because, as it turns out, there's either no answer, or there's one you might not like all that much. Point bein', there's a reason I keep all this paraphernalia on."

Well, that was something of a revelation, even though Whimsy felt they really could only guess at exactly what Tagger was eluding to. Something unknowable, something too old to really pin down a proper age to, something that couldn't even show its true face or form around anyone. How on Earth did Cab even befriend something like that?!

"So, now that you know somethin' about me, can I ask somethin' about you, Whims?"

Seemed fair, though they weren't too certain they'd like where this was going.

"…Sure."

"Y'can sit down by the way, not gonna bite. Alright, my question is…where've you been, exactly? I can tell you're a faerie, at least on the outside and before whatever happened there, but somethin' like you doesn't just sprout up overnight."

"…I, I was, I've been traveling. Around. I…I spent some time in a village, a good ways north of here." Whimsy haltingly replied, sinking down to sit next to Tagger.

"Yeah? Spent a while up there?"

"Yeah. I, I was staying with a family…they didn't really know I was staying with them." This felt like the start of a chain reaction, Whimsy fully aware that this was, while not the worst of their crimes, a good lead into the destruction they'd wrecked.

"Guessin' the family might not have reacted well to their house guest, huh?"

"…One did. There was an older woman who lived there. She was blind. I thought if I could make my case to her, then, maybe they'd let me stay…"

"Didn't work out?"

"No. Her family came back, and they saw me, and chased me away, and when I'd gotten back they'd left and I-" Fire, fire had happened as the little cottage that they'd been so fond of burned up around them like some portion of Hell had risen to devour it. Whimsy had been angry, true, but there'd been something so soul-chilling in the sight that it had sapped them of their anger like a bucket of water to the face. Their efforts to put out the flames had ended in burns, burns that hadn't stopped stinging until they'd been able to douse it with water from the well and despite their best efforts, the whole thing had gone up. They'd had the thought in the back of their mind before, but especially now as they relived the memory, they couldn't help wondering what happened to the family. Did they come back? Did they see what the faerie had done?

"…I burned their house down."

"You don't sound proud of that."

"I wasn't, I'm not, I just…I got angry." A deep sigh, before Whimsy went with the first thought knocking about in their stitched-together head. "Doesn't matter anymore. Wouldn't have worked."

"Maybe you didn't find the right people."

"There aren't any right people. Nobody cares about me."

"You sure?" Tagger's voice had started to take on that semi-teasing lilt again, the reanimated faerie finding that they had barely any patience left for that nonsense, thank you.

"…Look, whatever you want to say, just come out and say it."

"Don't know the specifics, but Cab didn't have to say he'd be your friend, right? Fancy didn't have to let you stay in his house. I didn't have to carry you back up to your room last night. But we did. Kids didn't have to get you presents either. But they did. Know your experience is a little skewed, but…what'dya have to lose in tryin' again, Whims? Besides, you're not dealin' with some run of the mill, salt of the earth types. We're all pretty weird. Think I just demonstrated my own case decently well. And, if you're runnin' around with a crowd of folks that're weird, d'you really stand out?"

It was a good point, Whimsy going quiet as they considered it. They were, unique, for sure, and they were pretty sure that there wasn't anyone else in the world like them, but, considering what they were learning about their new housemates, maybe someone exactly like them wasn't needed.

"We're a stubborn bunch, Whims. You ain't gettin' rid of us that easy." The words, in and of themselves, were something to think on, but what grabbed Whimsy's attention was the fact that Tagger, did something. Made some sort of motion like he was going to reach out to the reanimated faerie, but as Whimsy stared and leaned away, Tagger pulled back.

"Alrighty then, suit yourself," he murmured, almost sounding dismissive. Though as Tagger made it to the door, he glanced back to the faerie. "And, if and when you're ready, c'mon down. We'd like to see you sometime."

They'd all like to see them. There was nothing in Tagger's voice that suggested a falsehood, which made the knee-jerk, resulting thought that no, no one wanted to see them, feel very much like a double-edged sword. Keeping anyone else away, but cutting deep somewhere inside.

"Oh, by the way, Whims," Tagger spoke up, twisting around in a way that didn't look altogether right as the neon pie-cut eyes glimmering from underneath the hood glanced back at the reanimated faerie. "Left you a surprise on one of your gifts, but you gotta turn the lights off and close the curtains to see it. Anyway, see you 'round!"

And with that, he was gone, leaving a somewhat confused Whimsy in his wake. Bemusedly their eyes turned to the little stones that were now sitting innocently on their dresser, the faerie even resorting to going over and picking them up for a closer look. Left something on them? What the heck did that mean?

Though there was the added stipulation of the lights, Whimsy quietly putting the stones back down before going to the light switch and then crossing the room to get the curtains.

It was when they turned back to the stones that they saw the glimmers of light, almost like paint, dotting the surface of the darker one. But it was only when they got close and picked it up that the reanimated faerie could read what had been scrawled over the rock.

A simple message, written in brilliantly neon colors with ever letter being a different shade: Hi Whimsy!

And a sort of design underneath it that, as they turned it around, looked like a small, simplified face winking at them.

It was such a small thing, the kids not having to think to get them a present but Tagger also had not had to add in the extra message. But it felt both lightening, and a little worrying. Like Whimsy was standing on the edge of a precipice and couldn't see the bottom of the pit they were looking to jump into. They'd seen groups of people, both friends and presumably families, that looked to have that perfect happiness.

It had been a strong lure, as perfect and content as it looked, to tease Whimsy from the trees and pique them to try talking to the people they saw. But it had never worked. Even when the other person couldn't see how they looked, it never worked.

Whimsy was weird, Whimsy was wrong, Whimsy was disgusting, a monster, unwanted, not supposed to be…

In a snap, they realized that they had started to squeeze the little stone, and immediately loosened their grip with a worried grimace. The present, and the message written upon it, were thankfully unharmed, Whimsy looking down at it for a moment before carefully placing it back on the dresser.

Their attention was grabbed by a brief shuffling noise in the hallway, Whimsy wondering for a brief instant if Tagger had come back to see if his gift had been warmly received. The door had been left open a crack, a few strides taking them over to it and a brief nudge opening it enough for them to look out into the hall.

Which was empty. Whimsy peered left, then right, seeing no one.

They pulled back into their room, thoughts turning to what Tagger had said before. Maybe, maybe they would try to go downstairs in a little bit. Just to maybe explore the place a little more, though they couldn't help a mental block on the notion of what they would do if they actually encountered anyone. Maybe better to tackle that in the moment rather than try to plan ahead, planning ahead didn't seem to do them much good…

Whimsy ended up being so engrossed in their own thoughts, that they missed seeing the door to Fancy's workroom, which had been open a crack, surreptitiously slid shut as they returned to their own room.

It took a few hours before Whimsy felt ready, heading down to the landing and ending up a little relieved by how quiet the main area was. Bee, it seemed, had left, and though the sight was calming, they were still on-edge given that just because the more-visible car had apparently stepped out didn't mean that the others weren't here somewhere.

Though, thankfully, at least from the higher-up vantage point, Whimsy could safely say that they couldn't outright see anyone wandering around in near the couch below, or in the kitchen. Listening around revealed that things were quiet, though a quick glance to the windows drew Whimsy's eye to the fact that the sky had gone gray, the first of a rainfall pattering against the glass.

It did kill the fleeting impulse to actually wander around outside, though Whimsy was loath to just return to their room. Not after they'd come this far. Maybe, even with the possibility of someone coming along, they could just sit for a while.

So, with that thought in mind, they slipped the rest of the way down the stairs, walking past the little kitchen area to the sort-of living room.

It was a good thing that Whimsy had gotten into the habit of watching where they were putting their feet, otherwise they might've traipsed all over the two little forms simply sprawled on the living room floor. As such, they simply stood there for a moment, a foot handing in the air as they stared. Sunny was predictable enough, the little canine-gargoyle faerie arranged like a sleeping puppy, but Manny was…more interesting, to say the least. At least, Whimsy was fairly sure that when things looked all disjointed and, spread out like that, they were supposed to be dead. Actually dead, but then again, Manny being a little skeleton, maybe the rules were different?

Either way, this was a little more weird than they felt equipped to handle, especially from children, so the reanimated faerie turned on their heel. Thankfully, Patches was just coming out of the back room, though the other faerie's lighter tread meant that Whimsy nearly ended up running into her when they peeked out. Immediately both recoiled, Whimsy with an apology on their lips, though they ended up truncating it, given that Patches had that ever-present serene look as she considered them. The kind that barely seemed to get ruffled, it was almost maddening given that it made it difficult to tell what she was really thinking.

But it would be…wrong, to simply judge the other faerie for a trick of her demeanor, something not able to be really helped, so Whimsy simply bit their tongue and stayed quiet on their internal thoughts. Instead, they turned, gesturing to the scene in the living room as they tried their best to convey the issue at hand.

"I just, I found them like this, is Manny supposed to be…?"

Patches peeked around them, pale, unblinking eyes immediately lighting on the slumbering pair. Perhaps it was relieving, in a way, that the cloth-made faerie didn't immediately blanch, or scream, but that calm serenity was a little maddening. This was precisely why they'd been so slow to integrate with anyone, Fancy was easy to read, Cab was too earnest to have ulterior motives, the children were children, Bee was a demon, if not an easy-going one, and Tagger was…Tagger. Whimsy still had yet to figure that one out, but at least he had more visible moods, unlike Patches who seemed to skate through life with a strange sort of distant coolness.

"This happens sometimes," she was saying, lightly skirting over with barely a noise. "You can just pick up Sunny. I'll show you what to do with Manny. Just watch my hands."

"If you just give him a little help, he'll come together on his own." To illustrate her point her gentle motions of picking up the somewhat discombobulated skeleton caused Manny's bones to jolt back into place, Patches carefully scooping up the small monster and tucking him close, like Whimsy had seen mothers handle their children. Manny himself barely woke up, automatically snuggling in to Patches's shoulder, though the reanimated faerie felt themselves bristle as those unblinking eyes turned to them.

"You can try picking up Sunny. As long as she's comfortable, it should be fine."

Though there was a part of them that bristled at the notion, especially since Sunny could easily fit in an arm, Whimsy still knelt, reaching carefully out to the small, winged body. It was only after they'd carefully plucked the wolf puppy-like faerie off the ground that they realized that Sunny had been sleeping on top of something. It was a sheave of paper, along with some pencils, though what drew Whimsy's attention was what was on the paper.

"Sunny likes to draw," Patches said by way of explanation as Whimsy picked up the paper, though something in their expression caught her eye. "Is something wrong?"

"I, she drew me."

And it was so, Whimsy able to more feel than hear Patches coming around to look, but for the moment they had no space left for their knee-jerk guardedness. They only had eyes for this, picture. This child's creation that had them as a part of the group, standing under a bright sun and blue sky, amongst what looked like long, yellow grass. Strangely enough, Tagger was the tallest of the group, Whimsy competing with Cab for second-tallest, and what was probably Bee looked like more of a jumble of red and black than a proper car, Sunny, Manny, and Fancy looking similarly blobbish, but it was all recognizable. And they were a part of it.

"Patches told us," Sunny spoke up through a yawn, having woken as Whimsy had picked her up, ", 'bout the fields she used to live in, when she scared the crows. She said it was like a dream, when it was sunny, and the winds blew through the fields. It's her best place. She said I could use it. Wanted you to be there too. No more bad people, just us. All of us."

"Wh-Why…?" Whimsy forced out, their mouth feeling very dry as something about the word, or perhaps the emotions behind it, stuck in their throat. But Sunny merely looked up at them with her cherry red eyes, beaming that sort of empathetic heaviness that most children didn't have. Maybe Whimsy might've considered it more, though right now, their emotions were bubbling up their throat, coming out in a soft sob at what had simply fallen in their lap.

"If I had known…I would never have given you breath!"

"You're an object of shame, without soul or a name!"

"You…no place but…THE GRAVE…"

"No," Cab had said the other night, when they'd first met. "You don't need him! You don't need someone that don't want you! He's hurt you, cut him out of your life! If you need somewhere to go, you can come with me, with us."

"You're a little late offering me friendship," Whimsy had replied, a sneer curling their lip as they glared at the bizarre…thing, a creature dressed very much like a man, that stood before them. But, a strange thing was happening, had happened. Even as Cab had spoken, tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes, like he'd meant every word of what he'd been about to say.

"But I'm doin' it. Late or on time, the point is in the doin' of the thing! An', if'n you saw someone who you know felt as lonely and as hurtin' as you do now, would you just stand by? Knowin' what you know, and havin' been through what you've been through, would you, would you just let them suffer?"

They hadn't an answer, but when Cab had held out his hand, they'd taken it with only a faint bit of hesitation. Cab had tried more to steer them along, but the way he'd been keeping a grip on Whimsy's hand made them wonder if he thought they might bolt if he let them go. But then he'd turned to them and said something that had been sitting quietly at the back of Whimsy's mind.

"Everythin' in life is a choice, an' while you've gotten one hell of a raw deal, you don't hav'ta stay there, you hear? You won't be alone, not with us."

A choice. Whether they'd been aware of the significance or not, they'd made a choice. And it had brought them something small, but heartfelt, and precious. This, not small, but simple life that accepted them so readily as one of their own. That accepted them as…

"Whimsy, it's okay, I just meant that we're family now, see? Patches, Cab, Tagger, Bee, Fancy, Manny, me, you, we're all a family now." Sunny's voice trembled with upset, though Whimsy felt completely unable to answer. But, like a calm wind, a ray of sun in darkness, Patches's calm, whispery quiet voice spoke up.

"I think Whimsy needs a hug, Sunny. Can you give them a hug? One of your very best?"

The small arms wrapping around what they could of their frame snapped the last, delicate thread holding back the emotional floodgates, Whimsy doing their best not to crush the smaller faerie as they cradled her, and cried. Deep, heaving sobs that came from somewhere far down inside as a wail stayed locked behind a set of clenched teeth, their stitched together frame feeling like it might shake itself to pieces from the maelstrom raging inside.

We're a family…

"No soul or a name!"

You don't have to stay there…

"Corruption of biology…"

You won't be alone…

The feeling of another small frame, this one bonier, coming to hug them caused Whimsy to start, wide eyes finding the equally tumultuous ones of Manny. They must've woken up the little skeleton, but before they could even think to apologize the boney little arms were wrapping around their own arm, Manny tucking in in his own effort.

Whimsy looked up just in time to see Patches kneel in front of them, something beaming through as they made eye contact. That calm serenity swirled with a compassion that loomed as large as the open sky, Patches quietly reaching out to the reanimated faerie, and carefully brushing their tears away with a hand made of course cloth. They were quickly replaced by more, though for the moment Whimsy only bowed their head, shoulders helplessly shivering as they tried their best to ride out the storm.

What they weren't expecting was for Patches to reach out, gently easing them to lean into her shoulder. Her hands, with their faint suggestion of needle-like claws, carefully combed through the topmost layer of their curly mane. Their head rested against Patches's shoulder, folded down enough that even their eight-foot-tall frame could rest comfortably while still not crushing the two children doing their best to give the overwrought faerie a hug.

A soft hum caught Whimsy's attention, Patches's whispery tones rumbling low in her ribcage before it blossomed into a lulling song.

"You'll remember me, when the west wind moves, 'pon the fields of barley, you'll forget the sun in his jealous sky, as we walk in fields of gold…"

The 'best place', a field of pure gold that rippled in the movements of wind like something alive. But peacefully so, like the soft rise and fall of breath. It felt so antithetical to what they had known before, the shouting, the strife, the loneliness, the abandonment…

Though there was a part of Whimsy that wanted to push back, to withdraw until they felt safe, they found they couldn't. It felt so foreign, and yet there was a part of them that couldn't help staying right where they were. It was also the part of them that seemed to be the center of the emotional storm, this screaming, wailing, crying thing that grasped at the physical comfort like a lifeline. Patches's voice blurred in their ears, a lulling hum as their mind moved away from the images of darkness, lightning, mobs, screaming…and to a field of softly waving gold.

The thought caused a soft, near-involuntary sob to rattle through Whimsy's frame, Patches briefly breaking in her song to murmur some soothing words that was probably meant to be nonsense, but somehow, Whimsy couldn't take it that way.

"Shh, shh, we're here, we're here…"

A few moments of that, and carefully rocking them a little, and the scarecrow faerie went back to her tune. Whimsy listened, holding onto it like it was a part of the stitches running throughout their skin as the world dissolved into an exhaustion-dulled haze.

"I never made promises lightly, and there have been some that I've broken, but I swear in the days still left, we'll walk in fields of gold…"

"Hey, Whimsy…" A voice spoke, piercing the calm stupor that had drifted in. In the moment, Whimsy had no other thought apart from that they particularly liked where they were and didn't want to move, burying their face in the material as they tried to get away from whoever this was.

"G'way…"

"Would, but you're kinda pinning Patches to the floor. Wanna try gettin' up on the couch, probably be comfier?" At first, Cab's words were confusing, Whimsy's eyes blinking groggily open before they realized that, well, he was right. Turning their head brought Patches's face into view, the calm, even stare a little softer as she looked down at the reanimated faerie. With a somewhat sheepish flutter in their chest, they realized that they were still using Patches's shoulder and upper body as a pillow, with Sunny and Manny still held close in a careful but firm grip. Whimsy straightened, pulling away from the relatively vulnerable position, but they couldn't make themselves let go of the pair just yet.

With nothing else they could do, and a glance around telling them nothing, they couldn't help asking a somewhat hesitant question.

"H-How long was I asleep?"

"About ten minutes. Not very long at all," Patches replied, stretching now that the weight of all three had been removed.

"Hence why we're bringin' up the couch." Cab pointed out, about to reach down to help Whimsy up before Tagger nudged him aside.

"They got two heads on you, noodle-arms. Lemme do it."

Though Tagger was definitely more than ready to haul Whimsy up, it was a little difficult given that their hands were full of sleeping children. Patches and Cab tried to make it easier by taking at least one per each of them, but Whimsy had a moment of conflict as they looked between the offered hands and the little forms nestled against their front.

"It's okay," Cab spoke, catching Whimsy's hesitation. "They're pretty much out. You wanna take five with 'em?"

The question provoked a shy, eye-avoiding nod, though no one seemed to begrudge Whimsy an iota as they clambered up onto the sofa, and quietly scooted inward to make room for the sleeping Sunny and Manny. Instead, there were just quiet words on the part of Cab and Tagger, varying levels of affection in the pair's voices as Cab handed Whimsy a blanket and wished them a good nap, and Tagger's neon grin rife with rough warmth as he said he'd see the faerie later.

Sleep well, see you later. Was that normal to hear, and to feel like it was being meant? They weren't sure if they wanted to ask, but it definitely was a first for them. But, as Cab and Tagger were moving away, it suddenly struck Whimsy that Patches was still standing by, and apparently had something to say.

"You can come to me again if you need to talk, I don't mind. Also," she murmured, kneeling down next to the couch to look Whimsy in the eye. "You have brambles in your hair. I got about three out but there's probably more. We can try to fix that later if you like."

The faerie in question wasn't sure they could offer much to that, but Patches thankfully didn't seem to need an answer, getting up and leaving without any prompting. Whimsy was left blinking in the wake of that, before deciding that, well, they didn't need to really decide anything now and settling into the pillow with a sigh.

The slight movement made both Sunny and Manny move around, twitching and squirming for a moment or two. Without thinking Whimsy reached out and placed an arm over the pair, mostly for the sake of keeping them from rolling off the couch, but found themselves surprised when Sunny turned to huddle into them, Manny's arms reaching over Whimsy's and wrapping around like the limb was a stuffed animal.

It made the realization hammer in all the more that these little creatures, these kids, trusted them. Trusted them enough to sleep peacefully next to them, trusted them enough to let them into their home, draw pictures of them like they were one of the, the family.

The thought had Whimsy swallow another lump in their throat, a prickling at the corners of their eyes stubbornly forced back down because they were sick and tired of feeling miserable. Besides, if they started up again it might wake the kids.

"Shh, go to sleep, you're safe with me." They found themselves murmuring anyway, a faint tremble eating at their voice as they huddled around Sunny and Manny.

The sounds of the rain pattering on the windowpanes formed a soothing backdrop, Whimsy's eyes lazily drifting to see the water as it ran in rivets down the glass. It didn't quite banish the sounds of fire, of screams, that lay burned in their memory, nor the ghostly feeling of a noose tightening around their neck…

…But it was some space. It was a start. Maybe that would be good enough for right now, the thought bringing enough peace to the reanimated faerie that they let their eyes slip closed, breathing growing slow and deep as they slipped into slumber.

It made them miss when, a little while later, a much shorter figure came round the sofa to look at the little huddle gathered there. Fancy looked upon the otherwise sweet scene, a slight furrow in his brow as his eyes turned to the hand and arm Whimsy had used to keep Sunny and Manny close, covered in stitches that he knew so very well. Because he'd sown them with his own hands, slaved for hours over the eight-foot-tall frame that now belonged to the sleeping faerie on his couch.

Briefly, the tailor reached out for the fingers in some knee-jerk impulse to inspect them, before the thought of what if Whimsy woke up, how on earth he would explain what he was doing made him draw back. Thankfully none of them moved, but it left Fancy standing there, awkwardly staring, and wondering what on earth to do.

The sight of a light flashing from behind the sofa, out in the garage, quickly caught the tailor's attention, and he followed the nonverbal signal all the way to the car innocuously parked in the far corner of the garage. The door opened silently in an invitation, Fancy climbing into the driver's seat with an exhausted sigh and feeling more tired than he'd felt back when Cab had simply brought his 'new friend' right to their doorstep.

"You gonna tell them?" Bee's voice spoke from the radio, quiet but questioning. Not accusing, or forceful, but like a nudge on your shoulder to get you in gear. But right now, Fancy very much did not want to 'get in gear'. Instead, one of his arms folded over his front, his hand coming up to knead at his forehead to dispel the growing ache there.

"Okay, different question," Bee started, "what'dya think of them? It's been a few days, you gotta have at least some thoughts."

"I think…they've had to deal with far more than they should have. That that stupid idiot…made some very big mistakes in handling them. That they've probably been alone for a while. I'm glad they're connecting with people though, be it Cab, or Sunny and Manny, or Patches. It should be good for them."

"Alright. Gonna let 'em stay?" Bee asked, the sudden question catching Fancy off-guard.

"Huh?"

"Whimsy. It's your house. Is it okay if they stay?"

He could tell that this wasn't meant to cast doubt on Whimsy or their character, but if the tailor were to be any judge he would say that this might be a way to make up for the downright shock that Cab simply bringing the reanimated faerie home had been. Especially given that it was practically unannounced, which was something that tended to throw everyone when it came to Cab. In a group of supernaturals that had to adhere to some strict etiquette rules, the one that behaved the most like a mortal, with all of the spontaneity that came with, tended to stand out like a sore thumb. Even if, to this day, Cab was something of a mystery. A mystery that tended to be danced around, given that telling someone like Cab that they were 'different' was usually a recipe for the checkered-skinned toon to just avoid the issue and then for him to burn out a few days later from how much he tried to avoid dealing with it.

And, either way, it wasn't like Whimsy had destroyed his house or anything, so Fancy didn't feel too much conflict over his next words.

"Don't think I could throw them out now even if I tried. The kids would be too upset if their new playmate left. Cab wouldn't like it either." It also probably wouldn't be very good for Whimsy to be just acclimating to a new place and then be thrown out. If anything, it would likely undo that bit of progress that Fancy had just seen. And, though Fancy might not admit it to anyone other than himself, there was a slowly growing sense of responsibility for the reanimated faerie. If the mayor would not look out for his own creation, then maybe the only other person aware of the circumstances behind said creation should.

"Good point." Bee's voice rumbled through the speakers, before taking on a somewhat more hesitant air as he asked his next question. "You, uh, holdin' up okay?"

"I'll be fine. You're not worried, are you?"

"Think Tagger an' I have been sorta worried since you called us to come get you. First time I saw you that freaked out by anything. Second might'a been when Whimsy came in."

To be fair, Fancy ruminated, both instances had been firsts for him too. The fact that a reanimated myth had simply been brought to his doorstep was a shock in and of itself, but the fact that it was the same myth that he'd been more or less forced to slave over, put together from dead bodies, and whose creator pushed him to the point of a nervous breakdown, now that was enough to perhaps add to the gray streak in the tailor's hair.

The nervous breakdown itself had been something, given that while Fancy could say that he'd had rough points in his life before, there was nothing quite like the experience he'd had when one of the bodies that Whimsy's creator had been working with turned out to be a little more rotten than previously thought. Mostly because trying to take anything from it had resulted in a horrid, absolutely putrid smell filling the room, Fancy having gotten a glimpse enough of the rotting features that he'd about lost whatever little he'd been able to eat beforehand. He'd run out, managing to get a call home and getting Tagger, and of course he'd come with Bee for expediency's sake.

The ride home was an ordeal, given that by the time Fancy had been sitting on the curb for a good fifteen minutes, trying to banish the stench and sights from his mind, he'd become uncomfortably aware just how acquainted he'd become with the dead. The sight of dehydrated, blackened flesh no longer enough to sicken him but in retrospect it was all the more horrifying. He'd tried to focus, tried to buckle down, tried to tell himself that it was just a job and he'd make it through, and the mayor had definitely been paying good money that could be put to good use.

But in the end it wasn't enough, and Tagger had been coming just shy of outright putting his foot down in stating it. It wasn't enough to justify poor sleep and worsening health. It wasn't enough to make up for the fact that Fancy knew, in his heart of hearts, that what the mayor wanted wouldn't be so easily obtained. Some 'conditions' just weren't curable, and death was unfortunately in that category. And while the tailor had been able to ignore the niggling concerns in the back of his mind about just where these bodies were coming from, there was the part of him that wondered if they were all being obtained by 'legal' means. Or, if any family involved might be aware of what was happening to their loved ones.

There was only one body that he'd felt more or less sure about, the one that the mayor had had set up on that main table, the one that had been having the most alterations done to it. That one had clearly died not that long ago, still with a shadow of life in its features. In the right light, it almost looked like someone languishing under an illness, their face frozen in a look of quiet but poignant resignation though their neck had been a little oddly bent.

Perhaps it was to be expected, given that it was a faerie's corpse, though there had been a part of Fancy that had been a little put off by how dismal the expression was coupled with what the mayor had been doing. Perhaps it could be partially blamed on the fact that he knew faeries, Patches and Sunny, and to see either of them in this position would have been gut-wrenching. But he hadn't known this one, so looking at them had just brought a sort of melancholy irritation for their situation.

You look like you've suffered enough. Can't he just let you rest?

But then that night had happened, and Fancy had taken a break for a few days to come back to a note on the door for him, explaining that his services were no longer required. There was talk of a payment, the mayor had sounded apologetic regarding the whole incident, but Fancy's mind kept going over what had happened when he'd asked why his services hadn't been needed anymore. The mayor's exact words were that the experiment had been a failure, but he didn't elaborate.

Maybe that should have been a sign that not all was well, but Fancy had believed the whole endeavor impossible. How was he to know it had actually succeeded in creating something?

Though, as Fancy snapped out of his thoughts, he realized that he'd more or less been sitting in silence, ruminating, for a good minute now, with Bee patiently waiting for him to reply.

"…I'm doing better, promise. Startled me, definitely, but I'm feeling more…balanced. Definitely less 'freaked out', as you put it."

"Good to hear there. Though, Fancy…I get 'not now', but, be careful with that kinda secret. If anything just because it'll end up sitting like a rock in the trunk."

"Fair enough. Worried I'll get more gray hair?" It might've been a bit of an unfair thing to joke about, as while Fancy had adjusted to the streak of gray in his hair following the whole incident with the mayor, the supernatural cast of characters in his household…really hadn't. At least, not until everyone was sure he wasn't about to keel over given that they'd all made the somewhat correct assertion that 'going gray' could mean that you were close to the end of your life. It had taken at least a few weeks for them all to back off, though out of all of them, Tagger and Bee were the only ones that knew the full circumstances. Still, there was a laugh in Bee's tone as he replied, hinting that while there might be a worry it wasn't nearly as strong as it had been.

"Hey, don't even go there, mister. Not until you're at least pushin' fifty."

"Alright, alright, I'll be careful. And, I probably will tell them. Just not right now. Thank you, Bee." The words were punctuated with a gentle pat on the steering wheel, the lights flickering like a grin in reply.

"Welcome. Gotta work on stuff?"

"As always."

"Can you show me sometime? Can't exactly make it up the stairs…or wear clothes, but it looks fun." It might've been an odd request for a car to make, but Fancy was decently sure that Bee had made similar ones before now, about various things that though he knew there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of him being able to participate he still wanted to know about. Ergo, it wasn't too hard to agree.

"Sure thing."

As Fancy was about to cross the living room, his path brought him within viewing distance of the huddle still slumbering on the couch, the tailor pausing for a moment to sort of re-take in the sight. Whimsy's face was quietly relaxed, arm still in that careful, protective position over Sunny and Manny, the pair just barely visible though Fancy could see Manny's much smaller arms still wrapped around the darker, stitched-together limb.

It was a surprisingly sweet sight, even with the unusual-ness of the cast of characters. Fancy gave a quiet, calm smile, before heading for the stairs.

[inkwell-attitude]

Liebster Award

The ever-wonderful @ettawritesnstudies nominated me for this! Thank you so much, it means so much to me that you would consider me for it! I always love any way to spread some positivity and encouragement through the community :D

Etta explained the award as “similar to a writeblr tag game meant to introduce you to new blogs and get to know the authors behind them!” She was the one who brought it to tumblr, since it originated in blogs/writer’s websites.

Rules: 1. Thank the blogger that nominated you 2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger asked you 3. Nominate 11 bloggers 4. Ask your nominees 11 questions 5. Notify your 11 nominees

Questions: 1. What’s your favourite part about the writing community?

I love the support everyone always gives to everyone else! Everyone I’ve seen has given nothing but support and enthusiasm for both their writing and others writing, and it really makes me happy to see such a wonderful community. 

2. Do you prefer writing dialogue or description, and why?

I prefer description because I love the whimsy I can add to it. Being able to concoct a scene and describe things in ways other than “the sky was blue, the grass was green” is lots of fun. I’m also kind of bad at conversations irl (between my ADD and my minor stutter, I don’t tend to finish a lot of sentences lol) and I think that rolls over into my writing a little bit and makes dialogue a bit harder for me to figure out.

3. Do you have any creative hobbies outside of writing, and how did you get into them?

I am a self-proclaimed proud jack of all trades because I see a craft or activity and MUST try it out. My brain sees a tactile hobby and goes feral. I just really enjoy learning new things :D The recurring hobbies are drawing and very minor animations, but I also have been into embroidery, polymer clay, woodworking (miniatures eeeyyy) and cake decorating? 

4. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?

Two nights ago? I usually get 7.5-8.5 hours of sleep because I just can’t function without sleep. Idk if you can call it a good nights sleep because I tend to wake up several times during the night (how many times is too many?) but I don’t usually have trouble falling asleep.

5. Are you reading/watching/listening to anything right now that you’re excited about?

I’m watching Ann with an E with my mom right now and it’s delightful! it’s a very very lovely show and it’s made me want to re-read the book.

I’m also keeping up with the Dream SMP minecraft series, and lemme tell you I have not been this emotionally invested in a story for a LONG time. Sure, I’ve been excited about some things in the last few months, but I don’t think I’ve really been attached to a story and characters like this for a while. (Plus, every single fanart and fan animation I’ve seen has been tremendously well done and more often than not gets me emotional lmao)

6. What’s your favourite YouTube channel?

I don’t know if I have a favourite? Because I hop around between interests so often I tend to change up my subscriptions a lot, too. Currently, I really like Cheyenne Barton, Technoblade, GeminiTay, and Annika’s leaf

7. What writing advice would you give your younger self?

DO WRITING SPRINTS! This is one of my favourite things now and it’s helped break the habit of “write one sentence, edit it, write another sentence, edit it, delete the first and re-write it” habit. Plus, it’s just a really good exercise to stretch your creativity.

8. What’s your opinion on color coding?

top notch! I think sometimes it can be overdone (throwback to jr. high me color coding everything in my notes to the extent that it was detrimental to my studying) but it really helps me out with things. I color-code vocab words and important persons in my class notes now :D

9. Is there a specific theme or aesthetic that underlies all your stories?

If there is, I haven’t seen it. I think it’s funny that Odds & Ends and The Paths That Bind are actually kind of similar (so far) except one is lighthearted feel-good comedy, and one is corruption and angst and trauma :’) Maybe there will be similar themes, but they’re both in the beginning stages so it hasn’t shown up yet.

10. How many WIPs do you have?

I actually only have two WIPs! I have a few other concepts I’d like to explore in the future, but they’re currently sitting as one-sentence explanations in my notes folder and will probably stay that way until I figure out a more solid plan for Odds & Ends and The Paths That Bind. My irl schedule is very hectic and I’m an inherently tired person, so I’m trying to be more intentional with creative projects and realistic on which ones I want to be able to dedicate my time to.

11. What’s your wildest dream as a creator? (For example, do you want to see fanart of your ocs, have a movie made of your book, etc.)

I adore the idea of someone making an animatic or one of those lyric comic things (idk what they’re called) for The Paths That Bind. So much of it is inspired by music and I’d love to see other people’s takes on the history and events of the story and which songs they would associate with it.

Questions for my wonderful nominees!

1. What’s the earliest story you remember writing? How old were you? 2. Are any of your characters “comfort characters” for yourself? 3. What’s your go-to snack? 4. How do you visualize your wips? Movie-format? Animatic? Comic? 5. What’s your favorite part of each season? 6. Would you rather one (or all) of your wips be made into a movie/tv show or a graphic novel series? 7. Is there a particular form of imagery or symbolism that recurs a lot in your stories? 8. What’s a book (or book series) that you absolutely adore and wish everyone would read? 9. Tell us about your favorite video game and why you love it! (If you don’t game, tell us about another hobby you adore!) 10. What’s the last dream you remember having? 11. How has your writing changed from when you first started? (We all get better, but have you noticed any distinct changes? More/less dialogue, different kind of descriptions, different narrative styles?)

Here are 11 wonderful, talented writers I’ve met here, and everyone should absolutely check out their blogs!

@aelenko 

@uraniumwriting

@hueynomure

@writingamongthecoloredroses

@musings-and-writings

@stardustspiral

@druidx73

@eurydice-is-gone 

@atomic-insomnia 

@chloeswords 

@hannahs-creations