#whimsey answers
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writingwhimsey · 7 months ago
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Hi! For the writing prompt ask (if it is still open!) can I request Mitsuhide for “jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you” for a very spicy session? Thank you very much!!!
Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy! Serving up some spicy and jealous Mitsuhide!
Smut is In the Air Event
Suitor: ikesen Mitsuhide
Prompt: "Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you."
NSFW 18+ content below
Envy Leads to Pleasure
I was doing some cleaning in the castle. I could feel my face fixed in frustration. “Hey lass, what’s going on?” Masamune asked.
“It’s nothing.” I replied.
“Could it have anything to do with a certain kitsune?” Masamune asked.
I sighed. “Can all of you tell what I’m thinking just because of my face?” I asked in frustration.
Masamune just grinned. “He’s been burying himself in work lately.” He said, stepping closer to me. “It’s a shame really. Should be a crime.”
“Huh?” I asked.
Masamune was getting very close. “Neglecting such a cute lover and letting her be lonely. The work we’re doing is important, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need attention too, lass.”
“I can’t complain.” I replied. “He makes time for me when he can.” Yes, I wished we could have more time together.
Masamune’s fingers soon found their way beneath my chin, turning my gaze to meet his one blue eye. A smirk came to his face. “You know, you could always take me as a lover. I wouldn’t let you be lonely like this.”
I felt my cheeks redden. “Uh…Masamune…” What was he thinking?! I lifted my hands to push against his chest, but Masamune wasn’t budging.
“I think that is quite enough from you.”
The next thing I knew, two familiar arms were wrapping around me from behind and pulling me out of Masamune’s grip. I turned my head to look up at my love. “Mitsuhide…”
Masamune grinned. “About time you show up.” He said. He then looked at me, giving me a wink… though could a guy with one eye technically wink?
“You touch her again and your eye won’t be the only thing you’re missing.” Mitsuhide warned, glaring at Masamune. He was then turning to me. “Come now little mouse, let’s go home.”
“Huh…o…kay.” I replied, feeling confused by what was going on.
Mitsuhide led me from Azuchi castle and to his own palace, his arm around my waist the entire time. His pace was hurried and his steps were clearly agitated. “Mitsuhide…?”
“I’ll explain when we get home.” Mitsuhide replied.
We soon reached Mitsuhide’s palace and he made a beeline for our room. As soon as he shut the door behind him, Mitsuhide was pushing me up against the wall and his lips were on mine in a hungry kiss.
“Mmmnh…Mitsu…hide…” I moaned between kisses.
“Have I been neglecting you?” Mitsuhide asked as he began to trail kisses down the side of my neck. His hands roaming over my curves and sending tingles of pleasure over my skin even through my clothes. “I have to make up for that.”
I was breathless as Mitsuhide began to delft undo the obi at my waist, my kimono spilling open. “Hmm, Mitsu…hide..” I moaned as I felt his tongue trace along the side of my neck. Slowly he began to kiss and lick along my collarbone. His long fingers roamed over my body, stroking me in my most sensitive of places.
He worked his way down the front of my body, his lips, teeth, and tongue leaving marks over my body. He reached my thighs, kissing over them before lifting and resting them on his shoulders and burying his face between my legs. That silver tongue stroked over my sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
“Hah…Mitsuhide!” I cried out as the waves of pleasure washed over me.
Mitsuhide’s tongue moved expertly over my heat, lapping at me before twisting and turning. I was sent over the edge as soon as he brought those long cool fingers into play, slipping two inside me and pumping and curling at the right moment, even as his tongue continued to twist over my clit.
I could feel my pleasure building with each stroke of his tongue and movement of his fingers. “Hgn…Mitsuhide!” I cried out as a powerful release hit me, my walls tightening around his fingers.
Mitsuhide continued his ministrations, drawing out my pleasure, until my body was coated in sweat. Slowly, he withdrew from me, licking his fingers clean before picking me up and carrying me over to our bed. Mitsuhide spent the next several hours, bringing me so much pleasure. He brought me to the pinnacle time after time, over and over again until I was a trembling mess in his arms.
I was panting as I came down from my pleasure high. “Mitsu…hide…”
Mitsuhide smiled at me, as he lifted a hand to stroke my cheek before peppering my face in kisses. “How are you feeling little mouse?” He asked, a grin on his face. 
My body was still trembling. “Good…very very good.” I replied.
“Good, now let me continue to make you feel even better…” He replied, slipping himself inside of me. “I know it seems like I’ve been neglecting you for work, but it’s only because I wanted to clear my schedule for you. I wanted to spend the next few days doing exactly this.”
I let out a moan, my body already dangerously close to overstimulation. “Mitsuhide…I…I wasn’t…”
“Shh, I know.” Mitsuhide replied, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Now, let me love you, little mouse.” His hand came beneath my chin, bringing my gaze to his. “Keep those beautiful eyes on me and only me.”
It was then that it hit me. Even though he knew I didn’t want anything from Masamune…he was still jealous. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.” I said, grinning at him.
“I have to erase every trace of any man who dares touch you from you.” He replied.
I smiled. “No one else matters to me.” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “I love you, Mitsuhide…only you.”
Mitsuhide’s cheeks seemed to be tinged pink. “As I love you, little mouse.” He was then capturing my lips in a heated kiss and continuing to bring me the pleasure that only he could.
Taglist: @zulablaise @tele86 @kisara-16
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moe-broey · 1 year ago
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Gustav would probably bitch about Alfonse and Sharena trying to be retainers and that’s how you know it’s great and funny and I love them
Gustav rolling in his fucking grave for his eyes to snap open about it like
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i-am-beckyu · 7 days ago
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Patience is a Virtue and Trust is Earned
A continuation of my Christmas fic One Small Gift
AYOOOOO! 3RD YEAR IN A ROW I'VE WRITTEN A CHRISTMAS FIC! LETS GO! I've been writing this fic on and off for almost a year ever since posting the first fic and got a few people wanting a sequel so congratulations!! You got your wish!!!
I recommend reading the first fic if you haven't already as this fic references plot that may not make sense without context so please consider reading it first before reading on. I'm gonna ramble on at the end of this fic but without further ado, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ENJOY!!!
cw: fear, lying, panic and anxiety, hidden identity, magic and a TONNE of fluff and whimsey!
word count: 9180
Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
Borrowers.
Tiny scavengers that take human things for survival.
Well, that’s what all the articles say.
Wilbur leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped from the unhealthy way he’d been hunched over his computer for the last few hours, but he hardly noticed as he scrolled the internet.
“Yet another useless article that tells me nothing about how to actually coax one out.” He sighed dejectedly.
Now you are absolutely right, he should be studying right now while at University and not googling Borrowers again for the millionth time, but it’s not like he wanted to risk doing it at home. No way was he going to jeopardise having Tommy leave.
It had been a few weeks since Wilbur had met the young boy that fateful Christmas Eve and he was positive they hadn’t left. Not when he was now able to recognise the tell tale signs of a scavenger living in his walls. But the man was getting a tad testy about not being able to speak to them in person. 
Over and over Wilbur had to tell himself that Tommy trusted Santa Claus, not him. If they ever got a tiny hint that he knew of their existence, then that would be it and the boy would be gone. If a Borrower was seen, the rule they set for themselves was they had to leave no matter the circumstances. Staying after being seen was an absolute no no and never worth the risk. The articles had been very extensive on that point.
His other option to try and unknowingly lure the boy out wasn’t going very well either. Every idea seemed either too obvious, or too dangerous to attempt. (No he definitely did not consider using a mouse trap…)
Tommy was smart enough to avoid those anyway.
But he couldn’t ignore the growing urge to speak to them despite how foolish it would be to do so. It’s not like he could just walk straight up to Tommy’s wall and be like: “Hi I’m Wilbur but you already know that and I know you’re living in my walls. Sorry for ruining your house and kidnapping you haha.”
Yeah that would definitely send Tommy packing.
So like anyone does when they’ve run out of ideas, Wilbur rushed to the internet and started doing his research.
Borrowers- who are they, and how to befriend one.
Surprisingly, it seemed there were definitely people who knew about them. The few articles proof enough; but no one seemed to know anything further or wanted to speak up about how they knew what they did. The few authors or bloggers he’d emailed ended up ghosting him when asked to elaborate or rudely shut him down (looking at you PandasCanPVP) and though it did make sense they didn’t answer his questions; protect the borrowers and their code etc, it was still damn frustrating that no one was open to helping him. 
He’d at least done a few things to aid Tommy a bit more. He left more food out for longer than required and on the lower shelves so the blonde didn’t have to go to such lengths for a meal, and he’d creatively turned an unused draw into a junk draw and filled it with a bunch of mismatched items with multiples of each so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about him getting suspicious. (He definitely did not smile when he counted 6 paper clips instead of 7)
But there wasn’t really anything more he could do in terms of coaxing Tommy out. Wilbur just had to hope that either his message as Santa got through to him, or that he’d catch sight of Tommy one day and have an opportunity to acknowledge his existence. He hoped for the first of the two, but he’d take either to just make progress with the boy at all.
At least he had peace of mind they were doing better now then they had been before Christmas Eve. Niki was an absolute legend for helping him make all those tiny gifts. So yes he owed Nicki a massive favour when he absolutely bamboozled her for showing up outside her front door in the middle of the night and begged her for help to make tiny clothes for Tommy without explaining what for and why he needed them done that night. And yes he’d had to suck it up Christmas Day when he was tired as hell from working through the night to do it, but not for a second did Wilbur regret it when he knew how happy those gifts would have made the Borrower child.
It took everything in him not to tell his family about the encounter too, not wanting to risk the blonde hearing him, but it was for the best. One day it was going to pay off and then he could properly apologise for what he had done and get Tommy home.
Even if it meant he’d never really get to know the little guy, he would do it!
And that was a promise.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
This Wilbur guy was weird.
Did he have any reasons to back that statement up? 
NOPE! 
Wilbur was just decidedly a wrong-un and that was a good enough reason for him to accept.
Tommy had been finding his time in Wilbur’s walls a lot more pleasant now that he had some proper supplies. Santa really did spoil him rotten with all the extra gifts and was making getting by so much more achievable than what he had been previously. Even before his kidnapping, living in the forest certainly did not come with quite the same number of luxuries that living in a Human Beans house did.
For one: Constant food source. 
Wilbur was one sloppy guy. 
Bean did not seem very keen on putting things away properly before he left the house for hours at a time for this ‘You-knee-verse-it-tea’ thingy he went to for school. Anyone normal would probably think he was a slob, but for Tommy it was the golden ticket to trying foods he’d never even dreamed of! Did you know bread could actually taste good when it wasn’t mouldy? 
Wilbur’s house was just a treasure trove of things to borrow from and Tommy had pretty much anything and everything he could ever want here. He still had plans to get back to his nook home, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay for awhile longer while he figured out where home actually was.
There wasn’t really a rush to leave with all the snow still about anyways. He couldn’t be the bestest Borrower ever if he was frozen solid before he got home, but he couldn’t help but think about what Santa had said. 
‘He’s not as scary as you think’
After the whole meeting with the REAL Santa, Tommy hadn’t felt the same. After being so used to the isolation of the forest, physically talking to someone that wasn’t an animal or a tree had left the Borrower a tad empty. He’d spoken to someone, and they had spoken and listened back. The candy cane card sat in front of his bed and every day Tommy would wake up and reread the message and reminisce about that fateful night. 
It seemed bonkers to the boy, the idea of actually speaking to another Human Bean, but Santa’s kindness and words seemed to ring loud in his head. He’d been longing to talk to someone again for so long, and after observing Wilbur all this time; the Bean hadn’t done anything to suggest that they were a bad person. Believing that Santa was telling the truth wasn’t hard, but the thought of willingly revealing himself? Well it was easier said than done.
Because what if Santa was wrong? 
What if Wilbur was kind to other Beans but looked at him and decided he was more of a ‘Tommy shaped pet’ instead of an actual person? Just what would he do when he held all power over him? He would be powerless to stop them and could quite easily end off worse than where he started.
Tommy tried to shake the thoughts away before he thought too hard about it. 
Wilbur would never catch him.
That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.
Speak of the devil and they shall appear, as the sound of faint keys being slid into a lock as it clicked, signalled the return of said Bean. The man gently opened and shut the door as they sighed before walking into the kitchen, as Tommy listened intently to their routine.
Put their bag down on the table. Open and close the fridge Shuffle through the cupboards for something to eat. Take out a box of half eaten crackers. Eat one and toss the rest on the bench for later.
Move into the bedroom to relax and close the door with a soft-
‘Click’
Tommy grinned mischievously to himself.
Now was his time to shine.
It might be foolish to any other Borrower to take food while a Bean was actively awake and home, but Tommy had seen Wilbur do this enough times to know now that that man was not going anywhere for at least another 20 to 40 minutes while they de-stressed their day away watching Tikky Toks on their phone, and there was no way he was wasting the opportunity to get food while it was easy access on the bench right now.
Silently, Tommy grabbed his hook and borrowing bag as he made his way through the maze of walls to the kitchen outlet. Just a quick trip and Dinner would be acquired. 
Easy.
With little effort, Tommy slipped the electrical cover off the outlet to the kitchen, double checking the coast was clear before making a move straight for the crackers. 
“Ugh, Seaweed again?” Tommy scrunched his nose up at the obnoxious packaging. 
He really shouldn’t be complaining about the easy borrow, but the blonde knew there were BBQ flavoured ones up on the high shelf he couldn’t reach. Stupid Wilbur gatekeeping his favourite snacks. Okay, unknowingly sure, but come on; Seaweed? The same stuff fish eat? Yuck.
Secretly the boy actually didn’t mind them too much but it does get a bit much eating the same thing 5 nights in a row. Better plan a supply trip to the high shelves next time Wilbur’s out to get stocked up with a bit more variety Tommy decided, as he opened his bag and stored a broken up cracker. 
As he gathered up his borrowings, the unusual pangs of an instrument in pain sounded down the hall. Tommy gasped as he sped up his movements before grabbing his hook and hastily making his way down to the ground. Another few pangs of an off note sounded through the walls as Wilbur messed with his guitar strings.
Looked like it was dinner and a show tonight!
Lady Life’s music of the Forest was good and all, but Tommy never knew music like Wilbur’s even existed till he got to experience it one night. It was just like tonight, Wilbur in the other room with Tommy borrowing before the man started doing what was called ‘tuning the guitar’ to get the instrument in the right key. 
Tommy thought he’d been destroying the poor instrument until they started playing a song he didn’t know. The brunette had talent and listening to them play felt like a private concert just for him. It wasn’t long before Tommy had crossed the kitchen and was back in the walls to Wilbur’s bedroom, nestled atop the Bean’s shelf out of sight in a discarded Beanie.
The soft strum of the guitar filled the room and Tommy found himself relaxing to the constant rhythm. It was easy to just let himself drift and sway with the melody. The way it put him at ease was almost hypnotic, but the boy found he didn’t care if it meant he could indulge in it forever. 
Wilbur had been working on this song for awhile and it had quickly become one of his favourites. There were many times he had wanted nothing more than to cheer and clap whenever the Human Bean had finished playing, but the lingering fear of being caught was ever present in the boy's mind. This however didn’t seem to defer his ever growing loneliness. 
‘Would it be so bad if he were to talk to Wilbur?’
‘What if he was one of the so-called good Beans?’
‘What if he had a chance to make a friend?’
Tommy peaked over the edge of the shelf down to where Wilbur was busy absorbed in his playing. How would he even approach them? It’s not like he could just walk out into the open and be like: ‘Hi I’m Tommy and I’ve been living in your walls ever since you kidnapped me and using all your stuff. Want to be friends?’
��
Yeah that’s definitely going to result in him winding up in a jar or something.
If only Santa Claus was still here. It was his suggestion to befriend them in the first place so he’d probably know exactly what to say and do. 
Wait, THAT WAS IT!!!
Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Why not just ask Santa what to do! It made perfect sense! He’s a Bean and talks to them all the time so obviously he would know exactly how he could approach them! 
Tommy crept back into the walls and quickly ran off in the direction of the house's study. 
He had a letter to write.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
“Okay, Dear Santa…” Tommy said out loud as he began to write in his best handwriting. 
As soon as he’d found an unused marker in the study, Tommy had been quick to fashion it into one his size from the red tip. His hands had been stained red, but red was the poggest colour ever so he didn’t mind. He had gone to start writing a letter with some borrowed paper back in his home that night, but quickly realised Santa probably wouldn’t be able to read his letter if the letter was written in his regular handwriting- AKA too small to read with Santa’s bad eyesight from being old. This would require a bigger piece of paper and writing with his Big Man writing skills!
That also meant needing a bigger piece of paper and room to write it which meant waiting for Wilbur to leave and that took far too long with it being a Sunday. Tommy had had to wait HOURS for Wilbur to leave to do the grocery shopping, but at least it meant he’d be out for awhile and the Bean had left the kitchen window open, so it was a good day to enjoy some fresh air, albeit if it was a bit cold still and windy.
So with his new marker in hand and a few sheets of Wilbur's scrap pieces of paper from the Kitchen, Tommy now had everything he could possibly need to write his letter.
“Dear Santa.”
“---Dear Santa?”
…  …   …
“Dear Santaaaaaaaa UGHHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?”
Well, everything but the right words…
“It shouldn’t be this difficult!” The boy complained, as he crossed out another attempt at writing. 
“Dear Santa, so you know how you said to talk to Wilbitch? How exactly do I do that?” 
Tommy groaned as he furiously scribbled over the dear santa line before flopping himself on top of the stack of papers. He had been trying to write this letter for 15 minutes and he was getting frustrated. He just didn’t know how to start the letter. 
Get straight to the point or ease into? 
Is there even a way to write a letter correctly? 
6 year old Beans do this for goodness sake!
He just wanted to ask for the best way to approach Wilbur without the worst occurring. He knew the Beans schedule so he could probably work out a good time to talk to them based on their mood but he also still had to get over the idea of willingly exposing himself and that he definitely needed Santa’s help with. Not to forget to mention he still had to thank Santa for all his gifts too! He honestly couldn’t thank him enough for what he had done and the Borrower wanted the old man to know that.
Perhaps just being honest would be the best way to write this? Get it all down in one go and out in the open so he and Santa were completely on the same page. It was at least worth a shot. Wilbur would be back soon and he needed to get something written before that. With a little more internal deliberation, Tommy took a deep breath, and began to write.
Line after line the Borrower wrote his letter- as well as stopping to rest his aching hand as the letter grew longer letting the words flow as best he could. It wasn’t perfect, but then again he added pictures and doodles to make it better so he’s pretty sure that evens it out.
The last thing he needed to do was address the letter to Santa and get it to the letterbox. With his best precision skills, Tommy folded the letter in half and wrote on the front in his best writing.
TO: SANTA
NORTH POLE
Once he was done, Tommy stepped back to admire his handy work.
It was a bit wonky and anything but fancy, but for the first letter he’s ever written, it wasn’t too bad for a giant letter written by a Borrower.
Now all that was left was to deliver it. The boy quickly put his marker away into his borrowing bag and cleaned up the stack of papers back into a neat pile like how he found it, discarding any of his first bad attempts in the bottom of the bin where Wilbur wouldn’t find it, before moving to the window with the letter in tow. 
Now the best way to get the letter to Santa would be to post it and Tommy had seen some Human Beans put letters in their letter box before on the big black box, and then they were taken to be delivered like magic, so that made the most logical sense to him. He’d have to go outside to send it, but if he went now and waited till the sun went down, he would be able to scale the letterbox under the cover of darkness and do it with less risk. 
Tommy set the letter down beside him as he prepared to descend from the window sill to the outside world. The wind had picked up a little bit, but the Borrower was confident in his abilities to scale down the wall without any issues. Just like climbing up and down the trees back in the forest. Hook in, and descend down. Piece of cake.
Once he was sure his hook was secure, Tommy gathered up the letter in one arm before raising his other to shield his eyes from the setting sun, basking in the serenity of the afternoon as a chilly breeze blew through his golden curls.
Tommy exhaled a content sigh. He missed watching the sunset through the trees of the forest, the soft music of trees swaying and birds chirping as they did their birdie things. Hopefully he’d be reunited with his old nook and could enjoy them like he once did again soon. His letter was sure to fix everything. 
Santa would fix everything.
Tommy gently closed his eyes to savour the feeling one last time, but the boy lingered for just a moment too long as a strong gust of wind was all it took to throw the Borrower off balance and snatch his letter from his grasp, sending it flying off with the wind.
“NO!” The blonde shouted, watching as his letter drifted left and right off into the distance. 
It was almost magical in a sense, as he watched how it danced through the air and Tommy had to wonder, what if that was intentional. Santa had managed to do things he didn’t think possible with his magic, so perhaps he knew when letters were addressed to him and sent a magic wind to collect it for him?
Yeah that made sense! Good old Santa Claus looking out for his favourite Borrower! Prime he should have thanked Santa more in his letter.
Satisfied with coming to this conclusion, Tommy packed up his gear before heading back to the walls for a well deserved rest; blissfully unaware of the true whereabouts of his letter as it drifted through the wind over buildings and roads, before finally flying straight into a certain brunettes face on his way back from the shops.
“What on Earth?!” Wilbur grabbed at the piece of paper from his face prepared to throw it away before abruptly coming to a stop to read the bright, red scrawl across the front.
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“Okay, interesting spelling.” Wilbur examined the poorly addressed letter. 
It was obviously a lost Christmas letter written on what looked like sheet music from some kid judging by the spelling and array of doodles. Little faces in the O’s to make it look like Santa, but obnoxiously written in capital letters to make it stand out. It made him think of Tommy and how he went into all the finer details of his life that he couldn’t help but opt to read the childish letter and pique his growing curiosity. 
Dear Santa
Hi, it's Tommy! TommyInnit the Borrower you spoke to on Christinimass Eve. I’m sure I don’t need to explain which Tommy to you being the most amazing Tommy to exist ever but anyways I’m writing this letter to ask for your help.
Firstly, thank you for all the pogger gifts. They’re all so AWESOME so thank you! (Like seriously, you are the Greatest Man alive- After me of course >:3 )
Anyways, the reason I sent you this letter. You know Wilbitch Wilbur? The Human Bean that kidnapped me? Well I’ve decided to be the bigger man and befriend him despite him kidnapping me and destroying my home (You know it’s still in his living room slowly dying? Weirdo).
Thing is, I don’t really know how to do that. I know you said I can trust him, but I’m still scared of what he might do to me if he finds out I’ve been using and taking his stuff. I know his schedule by heart at this point and wait till he leaves to get anything done outside the walls, but ever since talking to you I’ve felt so lonely. I loved talking to you but I know I can’t do that with you all the time so I’m willing to give the Bean a chance. 
Do you have any ideas for how I can talk to him?
Thank you for your help and if you do this I won’t even ask for a Christmas present this year!!! Seriously I won’t!!!  I would just like a friend.
From the coolest Borrower ever,
-Tommy
P.S. You’re the best.
Wilbur couldn’t believe his eyes.
It- It was a letter to Santa, from Tommy.
His Tommy.
This was it! This was his in, his chance!!!
Wilbur carefully folded the letter back in half and slipped it into his trench coat pocket before hurrying home, formulating a plan of action the whole way. Finally he had a shot to befriend Tommy and there was no way he was going to waste it.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
Waiting.
Waiting..
More waiting…
Great. Just great.
Wilbur couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the clock on the class room wall. His leg bounced in anticipation as the minutes ticked by to the end of the day. He should really be listening to his lecturer, but it was almost impossible to do so when all the uni student could think of was getting home as quickly as possible.
The only way to catch Tommy would be by surprise, and to do that would be to break his schedule. 
Wilbur couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love a well structured schedule. It was the only way he found he really ever got anything done and if sticking to his timed out plan was the way to do that, then so be it. Sometimes that meant postponing other things like hangouts and was a pain, but right now it was his ticket to meeting one Borrower. 
His Plan- Get home an hour earlier than normal by skipping study and hope to catch Tommy in the open.
Okay, so yes the whole plan was just one big gamble. It’s not like he got home at exactly the same time every day so he doubted Tommy was going to be out borrowing still even if he was home early, but it’s the best idea he’s got. The letter said Tommy knew his schedule so being early was rarity for him. It’s not going to hurt to give it a try. 
He’ll either see Tommy, or he won’t. 
Wilbur idly traced the words of Tommy's letter as he sat and waited for his lecturer to signal the end of class. So much energy and bright smiles were hidden beneath the red writing and he wanted to know it all. 
After what felt like an eternity, his lecture finally ended and the brunette wasted no time in gathering up his things and racing out the door. He didn’t really need to sprint home, especially given that the roads were still a bit icy, but there was no time to waste. 
It only took a matter of minutes for him to reach the end of his street, huffing and panting. He took his time walking down to his house allowing himself to catch his breath and recompose himself for the task at hand. 
This was a stealth operation. No loud noises allowed.
Wilbur treaded lightly up to his front door, taking out his keys holding the key chains tight to prevent any jingling sounds before slipping the key in the lock. He turned the key as slowly as he dared, opening the door in a similar manner, before poking his head inside the door frame, eyes immediately looking to spots he thought the small borrower child might be hiding. 
No signs of Tommy.
Wilbur crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a loud click. “Shoot.” he muttered before slapping a hand over his mouth sharply, before realising his mistake as he cringed at the slight stinging pain now blooming across his jaw. 
‘Don’t talk, you idiot!’ Wilbur internally chastised himself. 
Ignoring his first blunder, Wilbur quietly shuffled across the carpet to peek into the living room. Nothing appeared out of place, and Tommy’s spot on the book shelf remained as empty as ever. 
‘Not here,’  Wilbur thought as he turned and tiptoed across the hallway. ‘Try the kitchen. Just slow and steady, keep quiet, move slow and steady and- ‘CREAKKKKKKK’  An old floorboard groaned loudly as it took the man’s weight. 
‘So much for stealth.’
Holding onto a sliver of hope he hadn’t messed up, Wilbur peered into the kitchen. Just like the living room, everything remained untouched and just the same as ever. Wilbur sighed heavily, dropping his bag loudly in defeat. If Tommy had been here, there was no way he hadn’t heard that floorboard move.
Resigning himself to his failed efforts, Wilbur didn’t bother to stay quiet as he trudged into the kitchen defeated. He flung the kitchen cupboard open, grabbing the BBQ crackers from the top shelf cracking the package open. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his bag from the floor before moving off to his room. 
So his one and only plan didn’t work, now what was he going to do? Guess he’d have to try and think of another time to break his schedule that wouldn’t compromise his study life a different way. 
The brunette sighed as he grabbed his phone, chucking on one of his favourite playlists and booting up his Bluetooth speaker. Might as well do some study since he skipped his study block back at the campus. It was as he sat down his stomach suddenly grumbled. 
Oh, right- the crackers.
Wilbur rose from his chair and moved through the halls before abruptly coming to a stop and hiding behind the kitchen door. There was movement from the BBQ Crackers packet. The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as he watched a tiny blonde boy emerge from the packaging with a cracker looking extremely pleased with themself, as they set it down next to a little blue bag. 
Tommy.
Wilbur couldn’t help but stare as he watched the boy work. He should have known that Tommy would come out for food. It never occurred to him that he would try and get the discarded crackers when they were left out on the bench. It was dangerous for the Borrower considering he was home and could be seen, but it was easy access for the boy so of course the risk would be worth it.
With careful precision to avoid the creaky floorboards, Wilbur crept forward. Said blonde had crawled back into the Crackers packet and was distracted. He didn’t want to scare Tommy away, but the boy was far too close to the electrical socket and he’d determined it was a wall entry/exit a while ago. The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to bolt.
It wasn’t till he was about a step or two away that the Borrower popped back out of the bag with another cracker in tow.
It was now or never.
“Ahem,” Wilbur cleared his throat and tried not to feel guilty, as he watched the Borrower on the bench flinch, stumbling back in surprise. “Hi there.”
Wilbur remained completely still as he watched in anticipation for what the blonde would do next. Tommy’s face seemed to morph 100 different ways all at once before stopping at terrified as they processed the situation. The pure terror on the Borrowers face showed he knew there was no escaping this, as their eyes darted around trying to formulate the next best course of action despite their seemingly ‘dire’ situation, but Wilbur continued to remain calm. 
He needed Tommy to understand he wasn’t in danger. 
The silence stretched on for a few more moments, only broken by the sound of the cracker Tommy had been clutching to his chest, snapping into several pieces. The borrower was so frightened for being caught, he’d subconsciously been clutching the cracker tighter and tighter till it snapped. 
“Can I help with that?” Wilbur asked, pointing to the broken cracker in the boy's lap as he stepped closer. 
Tommy was fast to react. The blonde sprung to his feet, cracker and equipment forgotten as they bolted for the electrical socket.
“No wait, STOP!” Wilbur cried as lunged forward to stop the boy. Before he even realised what he’d done, he’d swept the Borrower up in his hand, the boy now kicking and screaming in his grasp. 
“LET ME GO!!!” he shrieked as they dug and scratched their nails into Wilbur's skin. 
Tommy felt the way the hand flexed as he did so, but his attempts weren’t enough to get the man to budge. This was only the second time he’d ever been picked up by a human, and it was nothing like the way Santa had treated him. It felt far too tight and confining and Tommy wanted nothing more than to be free of it. Tommy always knew that Human Beans could be fast, but he never realised just how fast they actually might be.
His futile attempt to make it back to the walls had been wishful thinking at best. Now the very real threat of his head being popped off for being caught stealing the Bean's food had his heart hammering out of his chest. He was going to continue his plans of bloody murder, but as his stomach lurched and he was lifted up and away from the counter, all attempts died off as he was brought closer to his impending doom's face. He couldn’t suppress the small whimper that slipped as his body shook as the Bean seemingly studied every inch of him, before their eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hey, hey it’s alright.” Wilbur reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.”
Tommy’s blood ran cold. 
How did he know his name?
No, no he couldn’t have. He’d been careful. Never seen, not once. There was no way Wilbur could have known he was here let alone his name right? Right???
“How the heck do you know my name?” he spat. 
Did this mean they knew he was here? Had the Bean been trying to lure him out this entire time just so they could trap him and punish him for taking their stuff?
“Ahhh so about that..” Wilbur began before quickly adjusting his grip and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, thin piece of paper with red scribbled all over it. “I got your letter. It didn’t quite make it to the North Pole I’m afraid.”
Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes.
It was his letter to Santa.
All his worst fears were confirmed in the Beans grasp. If Wilbur had his letter then that meant he DEFINITELY had read it and would know everything!! As if magic wind was a real thing! Prime, why did he think writing to Santa when it was no longer Christmas would be a good idea? 
“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you Tommy, I just want to talk honestly.” Wilbur tried to reassure as he placed the letter down. The boy only shook his head in response, trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut expecting the worst.
“Okay, I know you’re scared Tommy, but I’ve read your letter, and I just want to help you. You can trust me I-” 
“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!” The boy shrieked. “YOU SNATCHED ME OFF THE TABLE AND ARE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL!”
“Well yes I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you, I just didn’t want you to run away!” 
“If you’re really sorry then you’ll let me go!” Tommy pleaded, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please just let me go.”
Wilbur sighed, realising his terrific plan to speak to Tommy wouldn’t get very far with their current circumstances. If the roles were reversed, he’d be rightly terrified out of his mind too. You’d think after all his research on Borrowers, this is something he’d be aware of. Looking around the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t just put them down on the bench and risk the boy making another run for it, and instead turned and headed for the dining room table, despite the boy's sniffling cries.
“Tommy, I’m going to put you down now.” Wilbur explained, trying to be gentle as he sat down on one of the wooden chairs.  “I promise I won’t hurt you and you can leave straight after, I just want to talk.”
The boy didn’t speak as he brought his hands down to the wooden surface and slowly released his grip. The blonde immediately wriggled out from his fingers and dropped to the table with a slight thud, but was just as quickly scooting away from his hands now he was free. Wilbur brought his hands away and slipped them under the table into his lap to be less intimidating, but could see Tommy was still highly on edge as they tried to gain distance. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on him with a terrified expression, seemingly knowing that he had no hope of getting away in the Beans presence. 
He felt bad for putting them in such a vulnerable position, but if he wanted any hope to get him home, then they needed to talk properly- face to face. 
“There,” Wilbur said, retracting his hands placatingly. “See, you’re fine.”
Tommy didn’t look particularly convinced, his eyes red from crying and snot running down his nose. Like seriously, who did this guy think he was? After the way he just behaved, why should he trust him?
“Define fine.” The boy snapped hugging himself as he turned away so he didn’t have to face the brunette's constant staring.
Wilbur sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He’s the one that wanted to make friends in the first place.
Wilbur glanced at the letter he’d placed on the edge of the table. Tommy was the one that wanted to talk to him but was just unsure of how to approach him. But instead here he’d come waltzing in and frantically grabbed him without any consideration for how this would make him look. The boy believed Santa when he told him he was a good guy, but any truth in that was gone and rightfully so. In Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur didn’t deserve to be trusted. 
How could you trust someone that held your life in their hands?
Wilbur sighed as he knew how to fix this, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, but if he wanted Tommy to trust him then his actions had to match his words.
“Okay so I know I didn’t make the best first impression so how about we start over?” Wilbur tried even slinking down to be a bit lower so he wasn’t looming over him so much. “My names Wilbur and if you need anything you can just ask okay?” 
Tommy didn’t reply, even going as far to give him the finger which had the man having to suppress a laugh despite it being fair. He waited for the blonde to speak up a little longer but it didn’t seem the Borrower would be talking any time soon.
Sighing realising this wasn’t going to work, Wilbur stood from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Tommy remained still only glancing a little bit to the side when he heard crackling of plastic, before the heavy foot falls of Wilbur's return signaled he was back before something was put down behind him, and a chair was dragged out and around from the table facing backwards.
“So I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I should have realised how my actions would have affected you so I won’t keep you any longer.” Wilbur stepped back from the table and around to the other side where Tommy could see him and towards the hallway back to his room.
“I’ve uh- left the chair next to the table so you can get down with your hook and things, and I promise I won’t go looking for you, but if you ever need anything- please don’t hesitate to ask.” Wilbur took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed the back of his head. “I hope in time, maybe we could be friends.”
After waiting for a reply and receiving none, Wilbur turned and walked into his room, closing the door with a soft click before walking over and flopping onto his bed. He couldn’t force Tommy to trust him. He just had to hope giving them space might change the kids' mind.
The second the Bean was gone, Tommy didn’t hesitate to grab his things and descend down the chair with his hook. He then booked it for the nearest wall entrance he could find and didn’t stop running until he was back in his little room in the walls. 
His heart pounded realising how close that had all been and now there was no time to waste.
Hastily he began to load his clothes into his bag and supplies for the journey he had ahead. He couldn’t stay now Wilbur actively knew of his existence. He’d been at the complete mercy of the Bean and that was never going to happen ever again. He kept doing this until he had completely stuffed his pack. As he prepared to leave he made his way to the door and had one final look around at his home for anything he missed. 
He couldn't pick up on anything specific, not until his eyes landed on the card from Santa. All those happy days he had gotten from just waking up to a pretty card. His encounter with Santa the best day of his life and the reason he was so comfortable here now at all. The memory felt bitter sweet now though, as he trudged over to the card, picking it up harshly flipping it over for one last read.
Dear Tommy,
It was lovely meeting you and getting
to know your story. I figured you might 
like some extra gifts as well to help you
be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls.
I think you should try talking to him. 
You might be surprised. 
Sincerely,
Santa Claus
P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.
“Not as scary as you think my ass.” Tommy spat bitterly as he set it back in place. 
So what if he’d apologised a bunch of times? That didn’t change the fact he almost hadn’t been freed at all. Sure he’d escaped now, but Wilbur might have just made it look like he was free to go as an act to trick him into feeling guilty enough to stay to catch him later. 
But then again, he did apologise a lot and gave him a quick way back down the table. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt him or anything, just guilty he’d grabbed him in the first place. In fact he hadn’t really done anything besides scare the living daylights out of him by snatching him up.
It was perfectly logical for him to be scared of being grabbed, but apart from that, had the Bean actually done anything wrong? He was just reacting to the situation, and if he had read his letter, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 
But no that can’t be right? He can’t seriously be considering Wilbur not a threat after all that?
“Ughhhh my head hurts!” He groaned frustratedly before dropping his pack to the floor and flopping head first into his bed. Why do Human Beans never make sense? Tommy curled himself into the fabric squeezing the sock blanket tightly in his grasp. This was all far too much for him to think about right now. 
The events of the day finally seemed to catch up to him as he laid there, adrenaline wearing off, replaced with a heavy fatigue. Perhaps sleeping would be better than trying to leave right this second? Who knew when he’d have another chance once he started the move. 
Rather than fight it, Tommy soon fell asleep, snuggled in his bed, his thoughts dreaming of what ifs and Wilbur.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
The next day, Tommy had yet to leave.
He’d spent most of the morning mulling over his options and what the best course of action was and was having a hard time making up his mind.
On the one hand, leaving meant he was 100% safe from Wilbur and whatever his plans might be, whether they be good intentions or not. But on the other hand, that meant giving up the space he’d spent so long getting right and traversing the winter terrain without a guarantee of finding a place that was safe to stay in. While the Bean knew of his presence, at least he had a warm bed and didn’t have to worry about frostbite. But of course that still left one problem: 
Wilbur.
The more he replayed yesterday's events over in his mind the more he wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe Wilbur was one of the good Beans. It’s not like he’d ever met or interacted with one before he came here. Everything he knew of them came from stories and warnings from his parents about Borrowers getting trapped in Jars and what not, but there was always some truth in stories one way or another. 
Still though, he had one thing going for him that no other Bean did. Santa trusted him. And while Tommy may not trust him, (not completely anyways) perhaps there was a way he could test them.
Tommy had his borrowing bag strapped to his back and his hook and rope at his side as he sat perched atop the bookshelf in the living room, watching and waiting for Wilbur to enter. He’d test the Bean. See if he stayed true to his word and be in plain sight of the man and see if he was worthy of his presence. If he tried to catch him or hurt him in any way, all he had to do was get back through the crack in the wall and grab the rest of his things and book it out of there.
The blonde's knee bounced in anticipation. It was one thing trying not to be seen by a being 100x your size, but another to willingly just be waiting in the open for your maybe/maybe not demise to show up. Strange how the last time he stood out here, he did so waiting for Santa happily, but now it felt like he half wanted to throw up as he waited for the brunette to show.
His thoughts must have summoned him, because entered an exhausted Wilbur with a cup of coffee in hand before they plonked themself down on the couch. He took a long sip and sighed before putting the cup down and threw their head back against the couch. 
He looked sad. Big dark bags under his eyes and he was frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. Tommy couldn’t help but think that was probably his fault. Seems yesterday's events had affected Wilbur just as much as it had him and he did feel a bit guilty for that. Did he really care that much he’d lose sleep over him? 
Only one way to find out.
“Ahem.” Tommy cleared his throat and the Bean jolted up almost immediately, head looking around wildly for the source. 
“Hey, up here big man.” The boy called with a wave to down below and clenched his hook tightly with the other hand as the brunette's sweeping gaze snapped up onto him.  “Sorry if I- uh startled you.”
“No, no it’s fine, I just- I thought you left.” Wilbur said as he turned himself to be better facing the Borrower without leaving the couch. 
“Why would I do that?” Tommy asked even though he knew the answer. 
“Well, I don’t know I just thought- I’d scared you away.” Wilbur looked away, staring at his coffee as if it was far more interesting than the boy on his shelf. “I figured you’d have left because of how I- how I um..”
“Grabbed me?” Tommy asked, raising a brow as he did so.
“Yeah… I truly am sorry about that. I never should have reacted like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I never planned to do anything to you when I did, I just- my hand moved without thinking and yeah. I’m sorry Tommy.” 
“It wasn’t particularly nice of you.” Tommy tried to ignore the tingly sensation of phantom hands wrapping around him as he stood up. “I just felt so helpless when you did.” 
Wilbur nodded sadly in agreement. “Yeah I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. Based on what I read in your letter, it must be really hard living at your size when everything is so big.”
“Well I was born this way. I learned to live cautiously to protect myself. You Beans are just too busy thinking of yourselves than about who else might be living out of sight.” Tommy glanced down to Wilbur and noticed how the Bean twiddled their thumbs in their lap, gaze now resting on the table and a familiar piece of paper. His Letter.
“Hey I’ve got to ask,” Tommy started as Wilbur brought his head back up to the shelf. “How did you get your hands on my letter? Last I saw it, it was flying out in the wind randomly to who knows where.”
Wilbur chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the letter carefully to admire the craftsmanship of it once more. “Well, I was walking home from grocery shopping the other day and it kind of just flew into my face. It was by chance that I decided to open it and read it that I noticed the paper was one of my discarded music sheets I use for scrap paper. Kind of connected the dots from there since it was my work and here we are.”
Tommy nodded as he listened. He supposed that made more sense than magic wind, even if the chances of it flying into Wilbur's face were bizarrely low. 
“Still a shame it didn’t make it to Santa. I wanted to thank him properly for what he did for me.”
“You could always write him another letter if you want.” Wilbur suggested. “I don’t mind helping you if you like.” 
Tommy nodded considering the idea before speaking up. “I think you might have to write to Santa for yourself though. You’ll probably be on his naughty list for a while when I tell him about everything that’s happened.” 
Wilbur smiled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah I deserve that. I’ll have to really work hard to get back on the nice list then won’t I?”
“You sure will. Gonna take a lot to get back in his good books though.” 
Wilbur smiled as he set the letter back down and leaned back into the couch. “Do you have any ideas on how I could do that?”
Tommy scratched his head for a moment in thought.
“Well for starters you’d have to be extra nice and always use proper manners like asking before you do something.” 
Wilbur nodded as the boy continued. “And you’d have to always announce your presence coming in and out of rooms cause if you don’t that’s just rude.”
Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle as Tommy kept listing nice specific things off. “Anything else?”
“Annnnd always leave extra food out on the counters- specifically the BBQ crackers and chocolate because that’s how you show you're being extra nice.��
“Right, well it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.” Wilbur replied as he looked back up to where Tommy stood upon the shelf. The boy seemed rather pleased with himself before he realised he was in sight and timidly stepped back from view. 
“I’ve got to ask though, why are you still here? I assumed the last place you’d want to be is anywhere near me and well, yeah.” It was a question that was starting to eat at him as why the Borrower would go against the code and all the other things he had read about not making sense.
“Well initially, I was going to leave straight away, yes. But with all the snow on the ground and not knowing the area, it made the decision of leaving more complicated so I’m giving talking one last shot and then deciding.” 
Wilbur smiled as he felt warm that the blonde was at least giving him a chance, even if they had their hesitations. He didn’t blame Tommy for being wary after everything that had transpired but maybe there was still hope to salvage things.
“Hey Tommy, do you think maybe we could start over?” the brunette asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to show I mean you know harm.” 
Tommy stood back from the shelf edge where he couldn’t see the Bean. This was exactly what he wanted. A chance for the Bean to prove himself and he hadn’t even had to ask. 
Wilbur watched the bookshelf nervously waiting for a response. What if he’d over stepped? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the blonde came back into view with his arms behind his back, before breaking into a smile.
“Yeah, that would be nice. But don’t even think about putting me in a jar cause I know Santa and Santa will absolutely beat your ass if you do.” 
“And why would he do that?” Wilbur smirked teasingly.
“Because,” Tommy stated. “I’m his favourite.”
Wilbur’s heart melted as the boy blew a raspberry at him before pulling a bunch of different faces. In a way, he guessed it was true. 
Tommy was his favourite.
And he wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up a second time.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
In the days to come, Wilbur and Tommy began to slowly get to know each other. 
Albeit at a distance with Tommy still hiding on shelves and behind items that he was sort of a discombobulated voice, but it was a start and made the Borrower feel safer.
Wilbur didn’t mind in the slightest as they were actually talking and making progress! If Wilbur thought Tommy had talked a lot on their Santa encounter, well the kid had certainly been holding back as they chatted away about anything and everything they could speak on.
In fact, soon the two were bantering back and forth like they’d been life long friends and it didn’t take long for Tommy to start showing himself on the shelves. 
Wilbur was always super cautious around the boy and made sure to give him space, and even gave him extra warning about what he was doing to ease the boy more around his presence. While Tommy initially had his reservations, he was quickly beginning to see what Santa had meant in his card. 
Wilbur truly was doing everything he possibly could to show he wanted to help him and be friends and that gave Tommy the confidence to take the next step and actually be in close proximity with the man rather than the safety of shelves. 
Eventually, Tommy would tell Wilbur of how he came to be in his apartment and Wilbur would offer to take Tommy back to his home. It didn’t take long for the boy to realise how close he’d actually grown to the Bean and when the time came to actually go, the Borrower would decide that maybe the Forest wasn’t necessarily his home any more. 
From there, the two continued to grow closer and eventually table talks turned to movie nights on the couch, to hand cuddles on chilly days. And whenever things got too much, Wilbur gave Tommy the space he needed and one day Tommy realised that Santa was right.
Wilbur wasn’t as scary as he once believed. 
In fact, he finally had a friend he could depend on.
Just like he had always wanted.
༘⋆ ❅ ・:*:。 ❆ ₊˚ 。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
Epilogue
Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!!!
Thank you so much if you read the whole thing through. It was a lot of fun to write as it's not the kind of topic I see written about very often and especially not in a gt sense so I loved exploring what Santa is to a Borrower that lived outside most of their life never knowing about these things.
HUGE Thank you to @quotemenevervore for beta reading and helping me get unstuck to write the ending!!! Always very thankful for your input and so glad I got this done before Christmas like I planned <3
Thanks again to everyone who's stuck around and continues to enjoy my writing despite all the circumstances of previous creators constantly changing. As times gone on, while I still really enjoy writing these characters, new ideas to use them in the future have certainly been becoming less, so I still fully intend to finish JORNOS but after that's done, I have one more chapter fic I want to post and then I think I might explore some new characters. Dunno yet tbh. Work is being a pain and will probably continue to delay new stuff, but I'm certainly not done yet :3
Anyways that's my last fic for this year so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the next fic <3
tag list: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @box-beanz @gracideaviolet @a-xyz-s
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piss-pumpkin · 10 months ago
Text
🎃The Summerween special🩸
Douce amere chapter 12, Older!dipper pines x reader, ~3.8k words Prev Masterlist
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The upstairs bathroom of the mystery shack had never looked so good. Clean, which was relatively unusual, and even more so, decorated with candles and flashlights. Almost midnight. 
Dipper lit the last of the candles, a small tea light, and placed it on the counter. “Alright, I think that’s all of them.” 
The counter was covered and lit, despite the overhead lights still being on. Mabel shined a flashlight under her chin, and waved her fingers in the air. “Looks perfect!” she exclaimed, nearly bouncing off the little stool she sat on. “If what I read online is true, she might grant us wishes!”
You looked up at her from where you sat on the floor, legs crossed. “What exactly did you read online?” you prodded. “Like where did you get the instructions for this?”
She puckered and popped her lips, “you know, a few places… and it’s not like Dip or Ford knew anything,” she shrugged, smile creeping onto her lips. “So if you think about, I’m the most knowledgeable person here on the subject.”
”That does not answer my question,” you said, folding your arms. 
Dipper leaned against the counter, “Yeah, I’m with Y/n on this one, I really think that if she’s real, not all the shitposts are accurate.”
”Hey, hey, my sources are trusted,” she claimed, shaking her head at his dismissal. “And if you don’t believe in the wishes, why are we even doing this?” 
Dipper paused for a moment, as if unsure she was even serious. “Dude, to find out what happens,” he said, as if it were obvious.
You smiled cheekily, “Yeah, plus, it’s Halloween, we need a little spooky time.” You looked around the brightly lit room, wincing a little bit, “or at least it will be when we start.”
”Summerween,” Dipper corrected absently. “Not Halloween.” As you rolled your eyes, Dipper squinted, and started to flip through his journal. “Speaking of, Summerween has literally no spiritual or historical significance, if this works it’s because Gravity Falls is crazy, not because of the day.”
Mabel’s face contorted, “then why are we doing it today?”
You threw your hand out to hit her on the leg, “If you’re gonna get murdered by Bloody Mary, wouldn’t you rather do it on a night of horror and whimsey, and not just like, some random Tuesday?” 
Mabel nodded along, “yeah, I guess.”
”What?” Dipper asked. He looked up from his journal with his brow furrowed, “None of us are gonna die.” He was still idly reading his journal, and tapped and prodded at the counter behind him looking for his pen. When he found it, he started to chew the back end in between jotting down notes. 
You shook your head with a smile, “well, yeah, duh, but if it comes down to it,” you trailed off, waving your hand in the air. You looked up at him. He looked down at you. You smiled, and his faux annoyance faded. 
“Well I guess if I had to get murdered by Bloody Mary,” he sighed, smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Mabel kicked him as she pumped her fist and legs in the air, “That’s the spirit, Bro!”
His annoyance came back as he recoiled his shin away from her feet, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he said, glancing at the clock. “It’s almost midnight, we should turn off the lights.”
You stood, and started toward the switch. “What in the rules says it has to be midnight?” You asked, flicking it down. The room darkened everywhere but the mirror area, which stayed lit with burning the candles. 
The twins looked at you, then each other. When neither of them spoke, Dipper sighed. “Mabel, you looked up the ritual, why did we wait until midnight?” he sighed, head in his hand. 
She flipped her flashlight at him, and shrugged with pursed lips. 
“Turn that thing off,” you said, tapping her flashlight with your foot, “Only candle light, it’s spookier that way,” you said, wiggling your fingers.
Dipper scribbled something down in his journal, then set it and his pen down. He took one glance at his phone before shutting it off and pocketing it. “Okay, let’s start, we’ve got like a minute.”
You and Mabel gave a thumbs up, standing off to the side while he looked into the mirror with skeptical eyes. “You guys are standing way over there, huh,” he deadpanned, raising his brow at you and Mabel. 
You waved your hand in dismissal, “Dippy, don’t be scared,” you chided. You blew a kiss at him with a smile, “if she tries to get you, we’ll beat her off.”
Mabel snickered, “I mean, I’ll leave you two to that,” she said, earning a punch from you straight to the arm. 
Dipper waved his hands, “Okay, everyone shut up, it’s midnight, we’re doing the thing.” He sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror, and started to speak. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary,” he said, in a rather subdued voice. 
The room was silent. You waited a beat, then two. Then the light from Mabel’s phone drew your eye. She had open a Wikihow article. Great. 
She frantically whisper yelled at Dipper, “now you have to spin three times!” 
He sighed, quietly shouting right back, “that’s stupid,” before complying with her order, and spinning in a circle where he stood. 
Mabel cheekily scrolled through the wikihow article as the three of you waited for something to happen. Dipper pursed his lips, turning to you and Mabel, “I blame Ma-“
He stopped, and side eyed the mirror with puckered lips. Slowly, he opened his mouth again as he raised his hand to point at it. “Hey, wait a second,” he said curiously. Then all of a sudden he was leaning closer to the mirror, and squinting harder. 
You tapped your foot on the ground impatiently, crossing your arms. “Dip, Buddy,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What’cha got there?” You could vaguely remember playing this exact prank on some friends as a kid, and Dipper was a worse actor. 
He turned toward you, and your eyes widened as you saw his wide smile. He pointed a finger gun at the mirror with one hand, and steadied himself on the counter with the other. He nearly laughed, “Guys, are you seeing this shi-“
Before he could finished, you and Mabel gasped, her hands flying up to point at her brother. Worse, before either of you could say anything, it was too late for a warning. In blink, something launched out of the mirror, and in a blur of black motion, even more obscured by the darkness in the room, attacked Dipper. 
It stuck to his head like a face-hugger, but with arms. Arms with hands that held tightly. Dipper struggled and moved and writhed, and tried to pull it off, groans and screams muffled. The dim light of the candles started to fade as he put them out with his flailing. 
Well shit. Suddenly you could think enough to tear your eyes away. Lights would be good. As Mabel screamed and pointed, you raced over to the switch, and illuminated the scene. 
Mabel was swatting away the creature, which looked a lot more like a person in the light. Its arms were still wrapped around Dippers head, and its legs pressed against his chest. A long mess of wet and dripping black hair obscured any face of hers. 
The more you looked, the worse it got. Your eyes skimmed over her sickly white skeleton thin limbs on your first look in the dark. And on that skeletal frame, a small white dress with… red stains. And dripping the same. Well fuck, that’s probably bad. 
In an instant Mabel punched it, coming at a side angle to avoid hurting Dipper. Maybe she’s learning. I should help, you thought, still staring. Yeah. Let’s do that. 
Without any semblance of a thought, much less a battle plan, you dove in. With quick step you lunged, grabbing for the creature. Or… the girl. Blindly, you wrapped your arms around her chilled torso, and pulled with all your momentum. 
Suddenly Dipper’s voice returned with a desperate gasp for breath, and then a stifled groan as Mabel punched him. 
You, on the other hand, were tumbling down to the floor at rapid speeds. The sounds of Mabel and Dipper faded away as you screamed, both at the terror in your arms, and your impending impact. At least the hair was covering her face. Your eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the fall. 
And all of a sudden the wind was knocked out of you, the creature folding under your chest. “Ugh,” you groaned. You pushed with shaky arms off the ground, opening your eyes reluctantly.
As you did, you locked gaze with red eyes above you. Shit. Sunken in and white cheeks contorted as it opened an unhinged jaw to hiss and shriek. Piercing. Your hands quickly released her to fly to your ears as you winced, kicking her off of her. The wood floor hit your back hard as you rolled away. In a ditch effort to do some damage, you threw your leg out to get another kick in as you rolled and she screamed. 
Your foot never landed though. Just as you tried, something was grabbing you by the arms. You jolted away, and whipped you head around with bated breath. 
Dipper. He was trying to pull you up. You looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before he tried again to get you on your feet. “Come on, you’ve gotta get up,” he said, shifting his arms under yours to pull you. 
Legs shaking, you managed. And looked up to see Mabel doing your job for you. With a jump and a battle cry, she soccer kicked bloody Mary’s face in. 
Dipper didn’t let go of you, and you were more than glad. His arms around your shoulder was so warm compared to the chill that came over the room when the creature let out her final shrill cry. She went limp on the ground, and your mouth fell open in small shock. 
You looked behind you at Dipper, who wore a very similar expression. 
Mabel turned around to you both with a wide smile, and a thumbs up. “How crazy was that?!” She said, beaming ear to ear. Her socks were specked with red from the creatures… mouth, eyes, nose… something. 
You pointed at her, eyes darting between Mabel and bloody Mary. “Dude, Mabes,” you started, brow furrowed. “D-did you fucking kill her?”
Mabel looked at the limp skeletal body on the ground near her feet. Then back at you. Then back at the body. She shrugged silently, lips in a blank smile.
Dipper stepped forward from behind you, and caught you eye with his worried expression. He pointed hesitantly to a detail you seemed to miss on first glance. “Uh, Mabel,” he spoke, voice level and controlled. “What’s happening there?” 
You followed his finger to her socks, and the red splatters adorning them. They were starting to move. They weren’t the only one. The body started to convulse. With jolting and jittery movement, she extended an arm, you heard a bone crack, and curled into a ball, hiding her bloody face. A small red pool was forming where her shaking body laid. And it was inching its way, almost deliberately toward Mabel. 
“Oh my god, Mabel, start moving,” you stated, not really an ask, waving arms at her, still just standing there.
She looked down, and face contorted. “Augh,” she exclaimed, jumping away from the blood. She slid her socks off with her feet, kicking them across the room as the blood overtook and enveloped them. She pointed at them very aggressively, “What the fuck is that?!”
Dipper grimaced, pursing his lips as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, you tell me, you were supposed to look up the ritual.”
”Shut up,” she said simply. She narrowed her eyes at him, “I prefer fucking around and finding out,” she snickered.
You stared with raised brow and dumbfounded expression, seemingly the only one who noticed that her now bare foot was… bloody. Mary’s body was shrivelling as the shaking started to slow, and the blood was still creeping over. And a few drops of blood must have seeped through the socks before she threw them. “Fuck around and find out, huh?” You asked. Rhetorical question. Because the answer was yes. 
The few drops started to grow. And started to seep in. Her skin started to red below the ankle, and it spread like mold in spots and streaks. 
Mabel looked down, “Oh shit.”
Dippers eyes widened, “ugh, gimme your phone,” he demanded, making his way toward his sister. “I need to see the instructions on the ritual you gave us,” he sighed, hand outstretched. 
Mabel’s eyes were wide and a shaky smile crossed her pale lips. Pale? That’s not good. Her face was losing colour as fast as her feet and hands were gaining it. Dippers face was cool and calm, but his eyes started trained on his palm rather than her. Easier that way. she gingerly handed him the phone, letting out an awkward laugh as she did. “The password is 80085,” she winced. 
Dipper sighed, rolling his eyes as he typed it in. He sucked a breath in through closed teeth, “Mabel, fucking wikihow?” He breathed with barred teeth. He waved his hand in the air, gesturing at the phone, “wikihow.” 
She shook her head, “what did you want me to do?” What’s wrong with wikihow?” She asked, pointing at him accusingly. 
You sighed, shaking your head. “Well it’s not very good, for one,” you said. “Secondly, this is not a productive use our of time right now,” you pointed at… Mabel, her whole condition. She was a rich blood red from the knees and the forearms to the tips of her fingers and toes, and ghostly white on her face and chest. “Mabel, you’re getting worse.”
You turned to the limp creature on the ground, who seemed smaller than before as she huddled into herself. Dipper seemed to have similar ideas, carefully sidestepping the blood pool creeping toward his sister as he went to investigate. He knelt before the body, and looked back to you before touching it.
You did you best to nod reassuringly, and shot him a thumbs up. He pursed his lips, smiling just slightly. 
Dipper poked the body, gently on head, on the wet and plastered hair. Nothing happened. You heard a faint grumble come from him as he wiped the finger on his pants. 
You scooted over to Mabel, who was emitting cold like an ajar freezer. Side eyeing her, you could see her breath escape her lips. The closer you stood to her the more goosebumps seemed to crawl their way up your arms. You did it anyway, nearly shoulder to shoulder with her as you both watched Dippers observations. If he wants to touch it, all him. 
Dipper moved to the shoulder, brushing away the blood wet hair with a grimace on his face. 
Ugh. You sighed, crossing your arms as you stepped away from Mabel. You knelt beside Dipper, nearly falling over as you refused to uncross your arms while you sat on your heels and balanced on the balls of your feet. 
He glanced over at you, “Are you gonna touch it?” he asked, brow raised and deadpan. 
You shots him a crooked smile and Mabel came and knelt beside you. “Mayhaps?” you offered with a shrug. Mabel nodded along, giving an encouraging thumbs up to her brother with blood red hands. 
Dipper stopped just short of touching the body, eyes locked on his sister. His brow furrowed and mouth hung ajar. “Mabel…” he started, squinting at her. “Mabel you should go see Ford, he might know what’s going on with you.”
”Uh, okay,” she said. Her voice was practically a whisper, almost echoing. But the bathroom wasn’t spacious enough for that. “Yeah, I’m looking kinda off,” she winced, staring at her pale ghostly face in the mirror. She was silent as she stood. Oddly so. The moving of her bones, skin or clothes made no sound, and you had to check to see if she was still beside you. 
And as she snuck off, with a stealth a predator would envy, the room felt a little warmer. You eyed the door she closed behind her. “I think you should text Ford to want him,” you said.
Dipper sighed, nodding as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Yep,” he affirmed, starting to type. 
You crossed your arms as you stared at the body at your feet. It was… gross. Her white silk dress was stained red all over. Definitely a good thing you couldn’t see her face. You looked at the body, stared and bit the inside of your cheek. “We should probably go see Mabel.”
                                             …
Mabel was screaming. The moment you stepped out of the elevator you blocked your ears to defend from her shrill cry. Tired down to a chair, thrashing with her blood red hands, and staring you and Dipper down with her now blood red eyes. Fords basement study was askew, with books knocked off of his desk, and a few pieces of shattered glass pushed to the corner of the room. 
Ford looked at the two of you with wide eyes and furrowed brow. He pointed aggressively at Mabel, not nothing trying to speak over the haunted telling and thrashing, silently asking what the fuck happened? 
You grimaced and looked at Dipper, whose eyes were wide as he stared at his sister. You waited a moment for him to speak, but he doesn’t. You sucked a breath in through your teeth and shouted, “Bloody Mary,” with hands cupped around your lips. 
Mabel started to squirm harder, fists balled as she tired to break free of her restraints. A closer examination enlightened you to the blood dripping from the corners of her mouth, dripping on bloodied clothes from blood red lips. You recoiled slightly, lightly grabbing the sleeve of Dippers sweater. Lucky you, he didn’t seem to notice. 
Ford was livid. He put his hands to his forehead and tiredly pushed back his hair. He gestured wildly at the two of you, and then to Mabel, and then back towards you. He shook his head. “Well, now we have to do an exorcism,” he said angrily.
You raised your brow and yelled across the room, “Those are real? Like they work?” 
Ford nodded gravely. Or maybe it was tiredly. “Yes, they work,” he sighed, gesturing for you to come closer and see his notes.  
You start to step, but there’s a pause. Not in the background noise, Mabel is still going strong, but in the conversation. Usually he’d have something to say by now. You glanced at Dipper beside you, whose eyes are fixed on his sister. It wasn’t hard to notice the way his lips were twitching, and tugged down in the corners. Other than that, completely stoic. And you knew him well enough to know that wasn’t right. Carefully, you tugged his sleeve. 
In a swift motion his head jerked to face you, mouth hung slightly open, and eyes widened as he saw you. “What?” He asked, seeming startled. You still cling to his sleeve, twiddling the fabric between your fingers.
Your voice soft, you nearly mumble, “exorcism.” You hoped he could read your lips through the noise. 
Despite he banging and assortment of odd sounds coming from Mabel, he seemed to have understood you, because he nodded, and finally saw Ford. 
The old man’s face was troubled. You probably weren’t looking amazing yourself, trying to avoid staring down Dipper to gauge his reactions. He came closer to the both of you for better speaking, and carefully explained what they had to. 
And the whole time it was done, your eyes kept wandering to Dipper, praying the clouded and distant look didn’t come back to him. But it always did. Subtle, soft, but so noticeable to you, and probably Ford. The way he twitched, on occasion, when Mabel resisted with a voice not her own. The shakiness of his hands when she thrashed. His furrowed brow and distressed eyes, even when it was done, and she was back and laughing about it. It all seemed to follow him, even as you went back upstairs, completely safe. 
Mabel joked with him, picking up on his manner. And it worked, for a time. He smiled, and you watched, perplexed. And then, her body’s energy, completely wasted by the angry spirit, she slept like a rock. 
And once again, in front of the lull of the TV, you watched it take hold of him. You were close together on the small couch. The hour was late, and despite everything, neither of you were sleep tired. More like bone tired, if anything. He was, at least. “So, are you alright?” You asked, finally. 
Dippers head turned, tipped, and toiled as his lips pursed. “I don’t like possession,” he managed, fingers running up and down the sleeve of his sweater. 
Your fingers seemed to scratch at your knuckles with a mind of their own. Ah. You glanced at him, the silhouette of his side profile. The TV running was suddenly in the background, whatever shitty reality show you were making fun of faded out. Like you couldn’t even hear it.  You nodded, lacking any worth while words. 
He let out a little nose laugh. “Yeah,” he snickered, shaking his head, “I know.” 
You sighed, shaking your arm behind him and wrapping  it around his waist, your hand gently crawling up his side. “Sucks,” you agree, pulling yourself closer to him and resting your head on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing his soft smile. “But it’s over, at least.”
He carefully took your free hand in his, and kissed the top of your head as he spoke nearly into your hair. “It is.  I’m glad Ford got it done with quickly.” 
“Yeah, this didn’t really go according to plan,” you said, thumbing over his knuckles. 
He laughed softly, and you felt the air from his nose on your head. “Was there even a plan?” He asked, leaning into you. “I thought we were just fucking around to find out.”
You smiled, “well, yeah, but-“ you paused, thinking for a moment. “You know, I don’t think we planned for Mabel to…” you trailed off, shaking your head against his shirt as you chuckled. 
“She knows how to party,” he laughed. His grip on your hand tightened, and you looked up. Tired eyes. A little sad looking. His brow was furrowed as he looked aimlessly down at you. Past you. Through you? 
You huddled impossibly closer. “Over now. No more possession,” you said, throwing your legs across him like a seatbelt. Completely safe. 
“Yeah,” he murmured. He laughed silently through his nose, small smile returning to his lips. “Yeah.”
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Next
Fun fact: I started writing this a little before Halloween and ended up finishing it in December. My procrastination is a menace. I’m doing it right now. I have math homework and a philosophy paper due tomorrow and I haven’t started either. Doing great btw (lie)
Another fun fact: me and some friends are gonna go into the woods and look for skinwalker a this weekend to prove to some friends that they aren’t real (real paranormal investigators?? Woah??) so if I stop uploading it’s cuz I’m dead
Taglist: @cipheress-to-k-pop @dead-esque
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the-kr8tor · 8 months ago
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Cheshire cat Hobie! X Alice Reader!
Mischievous Hobie who enjoys to mislead you and see you take wrong turns as you up and down swear at him since this is the fourth time you're lost thanks to his directions.
Sometimes however, even if he doesn't leave you where you wanted he brings you to nice and calm spots. It's almost enough to melt your annoyance away....until he starts cracking up riddles.
He's always smiling in a slightly ominous manner, except if you cry. He immediately softens and wraps himself around you, holding you to him.
Shape shifting Hobie?? Probably. He can definitely become transparent though, he likes to scare you.
Alice Reader! Who if they truly genuinely get lost calls out for Hobie in distress. He always answers, even when you think he's not there he seemingly is.
Reader who's completely upset and hiccuping with sobs; "Hobie? Hobie if you're there I'm lost."
He seemingly appears out of thin air before you, gently wrapping his arms around you, so careful that it's as if he's treating you like a hurt bird.
"You're always lost dove, that's nothing new. Let me guide you to the door"
And he does, on very rare occasions like this he guides you back to where you need to go.
-🪦 can you tell I'm having a fantast kick rn?
Ooooohhh that sounds so cool!!
Cheshire cat is perfect for hobie! Like everytime he appears to you there's always something that's different to him and he always looks so good it's unfair!
Him appearing out of nowhere to annoy you ��😂😂 also him being there with every step in your journey subtly guiding you (and sometimes being a nuisance) and he doesn't want to admit it but one call from you and he'll appear within a second 🥺
I love that you're having a fantasy kick!! I just love fantasy aus in general like the whimsey and all the 'rules' are thrown out of the window it's great!
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vacantgodling · 5 months ago
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ROUND 1
9: Some wonder where happiness resides in a person: the heart or the brain. Many foolish people would answer the heart, but that’s a sure way for it to be broken—your happiness rests in your brain. You grasp at your happiness and you think of it, uncompromisingly. Even in the face of death you’ll face it with a laugh, because joy is the most powerful weapon of all. You are an expert wielder, and use it to shield your companions from the suffering and toil, but it is no hardship for you. You only wish to return to the days where all of you were laughing around a table at the bar, instead of braving it alone.
6: You have no love for this place, but hatred is a whimsical thing. You spin your web, you catch your bait, you feast—but only when the struggle is at its peak. To release yourself on those unexpecting your true nature is cruel, perhaps, but you like to think of it as a gift. Your arrogance will be the death of you, but until then, you lose yourself in your own manner of whimsey.
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eltristan · 1 year ago
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People ask me or comment on my use of :-) in conversation, instead of the more emotionally-complex and artistically ubiquitous emoji -- and even though they might not care lol, my answer is that :-) is a tacit nod to my age, and, as a knee jerk reaction to the early 2000's Microsoft and AOL (MSN and AIM) trend to autoreplace with their proprietary keno-ball emojie-woogies... :-) has more whimsey.
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eatlikeadairyfarmer · 1 year ago
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Hello Danny! What is the most mystical event that has happened in your life (not counting the invasion of the walkers)? Also, are your family/ you religious? A little off topic, but what are you and Andy's middle names? Thank you!
One time, I saw Momma kissin' Santa Claus! Heh- nah, my life ain't really filled with whimseys. Kinda borin'.
Andrew Terry St. John and Danny Roberts St. John. I'm not saying it's true but it's definitely an answer for ya.
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superchat · 2 years ago
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Thoughts on the Honeyberry outfit? Correct answers only
in a roundabout way of answering i figured itd be good to compare her E2 art vs her outfit art!
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so its important to note that the tail is very visible in BOTH which is a big plus on E2 art vs the outfit art, theres no sugar-gliders in the outfit art which is really saddening but it DOES have Honeyberry in it as well as really really tall buildings she can jump from, also her ears looks a little bigger in the outfit art, i really love her hood in the E2 art and shes got some whimsey in her pose 👍
so all in all, seeing as how her E2 art and her outfit art both has Honeyberry in them, im gonna have to give them 10/10
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writingwhimsey · 9 months ago
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How about 13 with Napoleon? 🥺 Did i hear mating season?? 👀
Thank you for the request! This one was fun! Hope you're ready for some super spicy Napoleon who wants nothing more than to mate with you over and over again!
Smut is In the Air Event
Suitor: ikevamp Napoleon
Prompt: "Get back down here, we're not done yet."
NSFW 18+ content
Mating Season
I walked into Le Comte’s study. “Sebastian said you wanted to see me?” I asked as I stepped inside.
“Ah, yes, come have some tea with me, ma cherie.” Le Comte greeted me with a warm smile. “I just had something I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” I asked, sitting down in a chair opposite Comte as he poured tea for the two of us. “What is it?”
“Well…it’s more of a warning I feel I should give you.”
“A warning? About what? Has there been something happening in town?” I asked, worried.
“No, nothing like that.” Le Comte replied. “I just thought with spring being in the air, I should tell you about something that can happen to vampires, at least for those who have found someone they love.”
“Yes?”
“Sometimes…during spring after, finding a lover, some vampires…experience a…mating season if you will, during the spring.” Comte explained.
“Mating season?” I asked.
“Yes, female vampires will experience a, something like a heat and male vampires will go into …something like a rut. Experiencing very intense desires to be with the one they love and possibly conceive a child.”
“Are…are you saying this might happen with Napoleon?” I asked, my eyes going wide as my cheeks reddened.
“It’s possible, but the desire might not be as strong with a lesser vampire as it would be with a pureblood vampire.” Comte said. “But I thought you should know so you can be prepared.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Comte.” I replied.
Comte and I chatted a few more moments before I was returning to my chores. My mind couldn’t help but to wander to my conversation with Comte. Nor could I stop myself from thinking what it might be like if Napoleon did experience this rut, mating season thing. We had been discussing the possibility of having children recently…and if he really wanted to and had such an intense desire…could I ever really resist? I don’t think I could.
I found myself in the room Napoleon and I shared, putting away the days laundry and changing the sheets. I was bent over the bed, smoothing out the sheets when I felt two strong, familiar arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me closer and I felt his nose nuzzling against my neck.
“Napoleon…”
“Mmmm…nunuche, you…smell extra sweet today.” He breathed into my ear.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. Was this what Comte was talking about. “Oh? I haven’t done anything special.” I replied.
“No, new perfume?” Napoleon asked, sliding his nose along my neck as he breathed in my scent.
“N-no…”
“Then…it must be you, nunuche.” He said, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “It’s quite an intoxicating scent.”
“N-Napoleon…” I gasped as yet another delightful shiver made its way down my spine. “I-I need to…finish up my…work for the day.” 
“Mmm…you can always get back to that later, nunuche.” Napoleon replied, his voice practically a purr in my ear. His hand moved to undo the top few buttons of my shirt. He was then opening my collar so that he could place nibbling kisses along the side of my neck and shoulder. “I can’t possibly think of letting you go right now.”
“Mmm…ngh…” I moaned with each kiss. “W-what can…you think of doing then?” I asked, my voice coming out raspier than I intended.
“Mmm…you.” Napoleon answered. “I can’t help myself…all I want to do is make love to you…and perhaps…get you pregnant…I can’t help but to think you would be even more beautiful carrying a baby we made together…”
His hand was slipping inside my open shirt then, moving to fondle my breasts even as his lips continued their sweet attack on my neck and shoulder. It seemed he was being affected by the mating season Comte had warned me about…but my mind was starting to become hazy and all I could think about was Napoleon’s hands and lips on me and how much I wanted him. Besides… he was the man I loved…I did want children with him…and he did make it sound rather nice…
His other hand slid down my thigh and then up under my skirt. He pushed my panties aside and then slid his fingers to stroke my sensitive bud. “Ahn…N-Napoleon…” I moaned as I found myself grinding myself into his hand, seeking further stimulation.
“Mmm…you’re already so wet for me.” He murmured in my ear as he moved his fingers back further to slide into my slick heat. “You want me as much as I want you.”
“Yes…Napoleon…yes…please…” I found myself begging, wanting him to fill me and pound me into the mattress.
“Then who am I to say no?” Napoleon said before bending me back over the bed and lifting my skirt. He ripped my panties off and then I heard him unbuckling his pants and then they were hitting the floor. I didn’t have anymore time to think before I felt him slipping inside me.
“Ahn…yes!” I moaned at the feeling.
Napoleon began to thrust, leaning down over me, continuing to kiss me even as he tore my blouse off, allowing him to plant kisses over my back. “You’re…so beautiful…and you feel so good…” He murmured against my skin between thrusts. 
“Mmmnn…yes…ah…Napoleon…” I moaned as I felt that white hot heat building up inside me, winding tight like a coil before finally snapping and sending me over the edge.
Napoleon soon joined me in release, spilling inside me.
I had just started to catch my breath when Napoleon suddenly flipped me over onto my back. He practically tore off the rest of his clothes and mine before throwing my ankles up over his shoulders. I was moaning as he once again slid inside me and began to pound me into the bed,
Again and again, we changed positions as his hands mapped my body and his lips lavished me in affection. Both of us finding release multiple times. I had honestly lost count. I had just rolled over, from having ridden him, lying on my back and panting as I tried to catch my breath.
Napoleon leaned over and kissed my shoulder delicately. “Mmm, I love you.” He murmured.
I smiled. “I love you, too.” I was then turning to look out the window, taking note of the position of the sun. “Oh…it’s getting late. I should go finish my chores…” I had started to get up, but Napoleon grabbed me by the wrist.
I turned to look at him, a questioning look on my face. “Napoleon?”
“Where do you think you’re going, nunuche?” He asked, a devilish grin on his face.
“What…”
“Get back down here, we’re not done yet.” Napoleon said as he tugged on my wrist and pulled me back into bed, his hands moving to my hips and bringing them to meet his own so that he was once again sliding inside me.
“Mmm…Nap-Napoleon…” I moaned. It appeared my emperor wouldn’t be letting me go for at least the rest of the day…chores could always be done later…tomorrow perhaps…or maybe the day after…I might not be able to walk tomorrow.
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disastrouscanasta · 8 months ago
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C, F, and H for ask game <33
C: What character do you identify with most?
Honestly this is the hardest question to answer ever. But after plenty of consideration and consulting my friend, I have decided to go with George Luz, because he’s the one I find myself writing the most in luztoye fics specifically, this is due to a) i too have experience living around disability and in luztoye that’s… yk it’s sort of part of them naturally. b) I think I’m funny <3 (I am not) and c) I too am annoying and talk through films <3
F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.
I lied. THIS is the hardest question to answer. Well, I was gonna put something heartfelt and/or deep but I’m in the midst of the world’s most ridiculous webgott fluff fic. Where they are on a cruise. That’s it, that’s the plot. As such here is part of a scene set at a fun little bar:
**
“This is incredible.” Joe said. His voice was tight with the kind of childlike wonder that he didn’t think was physically possible. The last time he’d been so happy over something like this, he’d been in the 6th grade.
(He’d been bet by a friend to do something stupid. He didn’t even remember what he’d done to get the five bucks, but he’d done it. And 12-year-old Joe Liebgott had used that hard earned money to buy not one, not two but an entire box full of Hostess Twinkies. He’d scarfed them down all by himself, sitting on the curb outside the 7-Eleven.)
“It… sure is something.” David said, eyeing his own drink with not nearly enough whimsey.
“This is the something, Web. The best thing in existence. Mister Señor Frog should be the next big icon. Who doesn’t want this much alcohol?”
“Señor means mister.”
“I know that, jackass. I just respect him that much.”
**
I’m proud of it because I think it’s funny (see question 1,,, I’m still not funny)
H: How would you describe your style?
“Gay and intimidate” - @krakerjaksstuff
She also says that I have a grasp of character’s voices
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just-a-little-silly · 2 months ago
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Whimsey…
*Aru smiles, nudging her boss’s shoulder slightly*
Hey, if they make you happy, I’m happy. And look at me, I got an answer out of my boss!
*she grins proudly,*
I thought you’d never tell me about your special person.
She’s one to talk. She never talks about who she likes (a certain ninja)
Arundhati (or Aru for short): *holds out a box of sweets* Hey boss, care for some?
Thank you, Arundhati. *He takes the box* I'll have these with my medicine.
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jrwiyuri · 3 years ago
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ForgaLorga's Celestia is just chaotic and turns anyone into an alicorn. She even accidentally turned Luna into an alicorn.
Love that.
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this-ismydesign · 4 years ago
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✌️
Send “✌️” for two words my muse would describe yours as.  || Accepting
“Provocative and... appetent.”
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canary3d-obsessed · 2 years ago
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 34
(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  
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Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Dog Days
We jump right into some comic relief, in which Wei Wuxian runs away from Fairy, Jin Ling's dog, and Lan Wangji protects him. Wei Wuxian's terror of dogs comes from trauma, like so many features of his personality, but the show takes this opportunity to play it for laughs, with broad comedic acting from both of our leads. This is tonally jarring for me, because I know fuck-all about the very long and deep literary traditions that create the framework of comedy in Chinese drama.  I’m confident that it’s not jarring for its intended audience.
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In any case, I love that CQL and all versions of MDZS constantly leaven the heavy stuff with moments of ridiculousness and whimsey. The mix goes both ways; under the absurdity is often something serious. In this moment, we see that when Wei Wuxian is viscerally afraid, he calls for Lan Wangji to save him, and Lan Wangji immediately does.
Afterwards Wei Wuxian briefly looks at Lan Wangji like this:
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He is SO gone for Lan Wangji.
Then they go to talk to the art seller, to try to get some information about weird things happening in town. He claims to know everything, and tells Wei Wuxian about the man eating bunker on the ridge.
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The seller does not, alas, know all that much, and Wei Wuxian roasts him for being useless while Lan Wangji half-smirks in the background.
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He is so gone for Wei Wuxian.
(more after the cut!)
Wei Wuxian learns about the decline of the Nie clan under its current leader, Nie Huaisang, who has been acting like a dumbass as part of his “not getting murdered” campaign. 
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Underneath the Bunker
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian talk about the new state of things while they walk through the woods to the man-eating crypt. I love the way they walk together here; Lan Wangji perfectly vertical and steady, all Yang in his white robes; Wei Wuxian swaying, sinuous, all Yin in his black ones.
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Fairy barks in the distance and Wei Wuxian freaks out, grabbing Lan Wangji, but he doesn't want to answer when Lan Wangji asks him why.  Lan Wangji doesn't press for an answer, but Wei Wuxian immediately relents and gives him one anyway, and explains about being homeless and fighting with dogs for food when he was a kid. 
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From there he jumps to thinking about Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng and how they hate him, and kind of collapses into being bummed out. Lan Wangji doesn't say anything, but listens and lets Wei Wuxian have a moment to get back into a better headspace.
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This is a new dynamic for them; normally Wei Wuxian doesn't let his guard down enough to talk about his difficulties, and previously Lan Wangji didn't miss an opportunity to try to tell Wei Wuxian what to do.
More barking and grabby hands ensue, with Wei Wuxian clinging to Lan Wangji an unreasonable amount, and Lan Wangji rolling with it because being grabbed by Wei Wuxian is his favorite thing, even better than catching Wei Ying when he faints. 
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At least, it's his favorite thing right now because they haven't progressed to blow jobs yet.
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Blow jobs, you say...
They find the crypt, which is full of resentful energy and bad skeleton props. 
Wei Wuxian, in his new life, has retained his ability to hear resentful spirits yelling in his head. That's awesome for him and for Lan Wangji, who super missed getting to be paralyzed with fear for his beloved.
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Wei Wuxian pulls out his compass of evil, which Lan Wangji apparently kept and has given back to him. As if you need a compass to find evil in this joint.
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Surprise! It's in the room with all the coffins! (Wu Xie, poking his head in from Daomu Biji: Let's open them, what could go wrong?)
They open up the coffins and find blades in all of them, so Lan Wangji goes to play Inquiry to see what's up. We learn more about inquiry as Lan Wangji tries to get an answer from whatever spirit is in the place. 
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He also takes an opportunity to be amusingly literal with Wei Wuxian, in a possible callback to that time when Wei Wuxian introduced him to Suibian. He earns praise and some obvious elevator eyes as a reward for his joke. 
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Unlike that time in the ice cave, Lan Wangji doesn’t mind a bit when Wei Wuxian hops up to sit next to the guqin while he plays it.
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And for this, he is rewarded with Wei Wuxian’s undivided attention. See, Lan Wangji? Letting neuroatypical kids sit the way they want enhances their learning. 
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We discover that Lan Wangji is, unsurprisingly, a mensch when it comes to inquiry; he says the spirit can't lie because “I am here.” 
They figure out that the spirit is Jin Ling who is...not dead? Inquiry apparently works on living beings as well? Eh, whatever.
For The Love Of God, Montresor
They follow the instructions from Inquiry to find Jin Ling and dig him out of the wall.  
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Camera Operator: What did I ever do to you?
This wall doesn't have any mortar in it, which is good since it needs to be easy for people to bury themselves in it. After Jin Ling got sucked into the wall, did he put the stones back? 
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Anyway, 1500 years ago, folks in China developed a strong mortar by mixing slaked limestone with sticky rice soup. The Nie clan can't be bothered with that, though.
Apparently being buried and deprived of oxygen for a super long time doesn't kill you if you're a cultivator, given that Jin Ling has been in this wall for quite a while. 
Here we get another look at older, warmer Lan Wangji, who is a natural caretaker, kind to young people, and doesn't object to touching people, at least not if they need help or are in some way related to Wei Wuxian. 
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He pulls Jin Ling into his lap immediately and starts feeding him spiritual energy while Wei Wuxian casually grabs Bichen and uses its hilt to dig out more of the wall. If this seems like a disrespectful way to treat Bichen, never, ever read the extra chapters of the novel.  Lan Wangji doesn’t blink at Wei Wuxian borrowing his sword. 
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While Wei Wuxian takes a minute to try to understand what he's feeling in the weird energies of the place, Jin Ling hops up and tries to stick himself back into the wall. Persistent little guy. They haul Jin Ling out of there and see that Nie Huaisang a mysterious someone is lurking outside.
Lan Wangji is super reluctant to leave Wei Wuxian's side, hesitating until Wei Wuxian emphatically says he will meet him in town. 
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Then he goes to chase Nie Huaisang the mysterious intruder, who easily escapes from world’s greatest cultivator Hanguang-Jun, which is...not plausible.
Cursed Reunion
Back at the Inn, Jin Ling wakes up while Wei Wuxian is checking his chest for signs of a curse, and flips out because Mo Xuanyu is taking off his clothes and (unbeknownst to Wei Wuxian) has a reputation as a sex pest. 
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Jin Ling goes running off while Wei Wuxian is distracted by a flashback of Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian follows him, only to run into Fairy and Jiang Cheng. This time, Lan Wangji isn't there to help out, because he's busy filming Day Day Up gazing at the moon and thinking about Wei Wuxian.  
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Jiang Cheng makes Wei Wuxian remove his mask, and the reunion gets rolling. The music cue for this is the extra sad, falling-off-cliffs music.
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Jiang Cheng decides to torment Wei Wuxian with Fairy while they yell at each other, and this time Wei Wuxian’s fear is not played for laughs. 
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This Wei Wuxian to have a flashback to a time he was chased by an adorable friendly dog a scary dog, and rescued by Jiang Yanli. He calls out "Shijie" and Jiang Cheng gets even more pissed off. 
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He starts to talk a little smack about Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian instantly claps back, and it just escalates form there.
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Jiang Cheng has plenty of valid reasons to be angry; Wei Wuxian's loss of control did lead to Jin Zixuan's death and to a lot of the shitshow at Nightless City. It doesn't matter that there was a second flute; if I'm in charge of the firewall and I don't actually have a firewall, it's my fault if hackers take over my company servers and/or fierce corpses.  
But he is apparently mad that Wei Wuxian didn't come to Lotus Pier immediately upon returning from death. 
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You know, the death that Jiang Cheng kind of directly caused. Not to be confused with the death Jiang Cheng has been dishing out to random demonic cultivators since then, and encouraging Jin Ling to dish out. He's got a hell of a nerve to expect Wei Wuxian to voluntarily come anywhere near him.
On the flip side, when Jiang Cheng, reasonably, wants to know where Wen Ning is, Wei Wuxian stupidly wonders why Jiang Cheng still hates Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian asks what more he wants from them, both of them having died already. Like, if you do a clean reboot, everything should be good, right?
But Jiang Cheng wanted to kill Wen Ning even before the whole spine-crushing incident, so there's no reason he should have changed his plan in the intervening years. Wei Wuxian tries to get him to think about why Wen Ning isn't dead, but Jiang Cheng is too angry.
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Jin Ling shows up to tell him he thinks he knows where Wen Ning is, which is just bullshit to lure Jiang Cheng. He tells him that he didn't say anything earlier because Jiang Cheng was being too much of a bitch. Jiang Cheng bristles and Wei Wuxian gives Jin Ling the sweetest, most loving look. 
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He’s already starting to adore Jin Ling, with all his flaws, in the same way he adored a younger Jiang Cheng with all of *his* flaws.
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Jiang Cheng ties Wei Wuxian up with Zidian and cleverly puts his rebellious teenager in charge of watching his silver-tongued brother.
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Jin Ling, comfortable with command, at least where Jiang disciples are concerned, tells all the guards to fuck off.  He calls Zidian to his hand, which speaks to the closeness of his relationship with his Jiujiu. Jiang Cheng certainly couldn't wield Zidian while his Mom was still around. Then Jin Ling takes Wei Wuxian out of town again to let him go.
Let’s Dip
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I like their synchronized sneaking; it makes me want to see them have more adventures together.
Out in the woods, Wei Wuxian, who once named a sword "Whatever," roasts Jin Ling for his dog-naming methods. They talk about Jiang Cheng's obsession with catching Wei Wuxian, which makes him think everyone is Wei Wuxian. Which in turn makes Jin Ling think that the dude in front of him is not actually Wei Wuxian. 
Then Wei Wuxian talks to Jin Ling about the importance of learning to say thank you and sorry.
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He follows this up by saying sorry for his comments at Dafan mountain. Jin Ling reacts like nobody has ever sincerely apologized to him in his life, which is very possible, considering that Jiang Cheng is not exactly the apologizing type, and everything Jin Guangyao says is insincere. 
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Jin Ling talks about his ambitions and Wei Wuxian nods approvingly, which is sweet, but he follows it up by knocking Jin Ling out so he can take care of the curse on his leg. This family, man. So rough. Wei Wuxian takes care of the curse, predictably, by transferring it to his own body. I'm sure Lan Wangji won't be upset about that.
Soundtrack: Underneath the Bunker by R.E.M
Writing Prompt: Jiang Cheng trying to apologize for anything, to anyone, and making an utter hash of it.
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sammy-writes-sometimes · 2 years ago
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Bloom
Note: This fic was inspired off of a fic written by the lovely @simplydm! ^w^
Word Count: 335
Reblogs > Likes
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'Maybe planting that seed wasn't a good idea.' Bdubs thought to himself one day as he forced his eyes away from the twisted tree. 'Maybe I should’ve listened.'
It had been rather stupid, and extremely obvious. The book that still stood on the pedestal in his basement, a harsh warning written into it but without a stated consequence. Just a warning on a page, nothing else.
He was sure that even normal people, those that didn't have ability tied to nature at least, could see and feel the wrongness that came from the Tree of Whimsey.
Its bark was stone-like, it spoke to him in hushed tones that contained many voices, and it always seemed to smell of death and rot.
Yet he still listened anyway. Or ignored warnings. Even as it drained him bit by bit, piece by piece, eating away at his soul.
'You let me in. You let me grow.' It whispered to him. 'You let me feast. You let me control you.'
The dryad had come to hate his magic, his ability to speak with flora herself, it only seemed to make the tree louder, hungrier, crueler.
He wanted it to stop, for the tree to leave him alone and let him rest and just do something other than staring at it with barely subdued rage. It controlled him, it wouldn’t let itself be burned or cut or injured in any way. That tree was more alive than any plant he’d ever dealt with
“What are you?” Bdubs asked aloud when no one watched him.
It fell silent in that way trees always do when they think, like the old dark oaks that created shade in the shopping district.
‘I am the Tree of Whimsey.’ It answered simply
Then it began again, the slow taunting as Bdubs turned to his monolith. That relentless taunting, going on and on, endless with it’s many voices that echoed in his ears and seemingly no one else's.
‘You are my puppet, I am a god.’
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