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[ A Pretty-Dang-Near-Hiatus Announcement ]

          Yoo, anybody actually remember me? 

          Horrible, self-depreciating jokes aside--hey guys, I’ve been pretty dead on here, and I apologize for that. I’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff (college prep is mostly the all consuming part of my days, and will be for the next 3 weeks.). I really miss hanging out with my friends here, and writing Oz, but I can’t seem to muster his muse for very long at all. I think part of it’s mostly because of how long I’ve been immersed in it and in this particular fandom. 

          SO, I’ll be placing this account officially on a Hiatus, mostly meaning I’ll pop over every now and then if I do gain muse, but otherwise you won’t hear from me ON HERE. 

          I am getting really busy to be able to RP in general, so if you do want to still write with me, I’ll be following a lot of the people I follow on here on my other two accounts-- @cxntsee (Indie. W.D Gaster from Undertale) and @onemxre (Indie Azumane Asahi from Haikyuu!!). I swear they don’t bite, but if you do see one or both of those urls follow, hello that’s ur very quiet friend Moony. 

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Useless Details Ask Meme I

Send one of the following symbols to find out more about my muse!

Their phone:

★ what kind of phone do they have? ☆ what is their phone’s background? ✪ their standard ringtone? ❉ do they have any pictures on their phone? ✯ what do their texts look like? do they use emojis often? what kind? ✦ the first five names on their contacts list? ⍟ any games on their phone? what kind? how often do they play? ✹ five - ten songs on their iPod/phone?

Their home:

♈ a description of their home - apartment building or detached house? how many rooms are there? colours of their walls? any decorations? ♉ what are their neighbours like? their relationship to them? ♊ what kind of mail do they get (except for bills)? have they subscribed to any magazines/newspapers? ♋ do they read any newspapers/magazines? what kind? what topics are they interested in? do they flip forward to the cartoon page first? ♌ how do they drink their coffee/tea? ♍ any pictures on their walls? what kind/of who? ♎ is their closet tidy or are the clothes just being thrown inside or lying on the floor? ♒ their cleaning routine - laundry/dishes/cleaning the rooms

Digging deeper:

🌷 what do they have in their wallet? ꕥ what’s usually in their trouser/jacket pockets or purse? ☘ how many keys do they have? for what? do they have any key pendants? 🍀 what kind of jewellery are they wearing? what’s their favourite peace? 🌻 what do their bedsheets look like? colour? patterns? 🌹 what’s the colour of your muse’s underwear right now?

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don’t speak to me i am in so much pain rn 

UPDATE; i finished the manga and I am in even more pain

scans from

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          “I just might, considering you’re the one who just felt the need to waltz on up and be so rude!” 

“ That’s pretty petty considering you just MET me,    do you have that MUCH anger in that small body? ”

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          Again, Oz’s fingers gently touch the blond, only this time to rub Traum’s back. He settles close to his side, rubbing circles into his friend’s back in a small form of comfort. Wait until the tears and the sadness and the heartache receded enough to finally speak. Oz breathes in the shaken space between them, counts the seconds in his mind as he looks at the shard that now laid on the ground. 

          It’s a literal one--made of glass, like it had been split off from something that had shattered a long time ago. Or maybe it was a shard of it’s own, with nothing to complete it. I wonder where he even got this. Oz frowns, wondering to himself when he finally hears Traum speak up. The name. It takes a second to even click, emerald hues quickly passing between Traum and the sleeping boy, now named ‘Zeit’. Twins... how weirdly, that settles on his shoulders. 

          Alice and Alyss. Traum and Zeit. Traum’s hurried explanation lays out a fabric, but riddled wit holes. An oddly dressed mother, a human child, fragmented memories with a twin named Zeit. It establishes a few things, which bring some relief to Oz’s mind... other things, it only unsettles him. Oz waits until his friend’s finished, removing his hand from Traum’s back when he catches the question. 

          “Well, I--yeah, I can help you look, but I don’t know how much longer I have...” Oz wishes maybe Gilbert will let him sleep in, give him just another hour or two--however long that’ll equate to being here. More time. “But, do you have any idea what they look like? Memory shards could be anything... like--” Is it here? The blond settles back on the ground, digging into his pocket, before--aha! He pulls out the golden pocket watch, showing Traum. “This used to have a memory shard in it! How’re we to know what they look like...?” 

          All those strange memories. Oz sorts through what comes to mind, frowning. “It... it sounds like your Mom got involved in something really bad... like, those street performers, or...” Prostitutes. Circus workers. A number of abusive occupations come to mind, but he forces those aside for now. “Maybe--maybe he didn’t want you to know about the job, since it sounds like it was painful for her.” A sigh. “I don’t know...sorting memories with little to go on sucks, I’ve been there--”

He didn’t know why these tears kept falling. Was the unknown something to cry about? Were memories something to weep over? Were unanswered questions that frightening? The fear of every answer he ever sought in that tiny little body was overwhelming. Of course he wanted to know more, so why is that he knew he could never face the truth?

Traum was too much of a curious boy. With the memory came the knowledge that there were more. Scattered. Hidden. How he yearned to know more. The questions left with him on this world could finally be answered. Why was he always alone? Why did his twin sleep here, hidden away? Why was this area in this world here? This neutral land. Why could he never dream?

Choking on tears, gasping for air, he gave his best effort to speak. None of it was comprehensive, not even to himself. So let him sob a little while longer. Let him lean into the comfort of another being. Let him search for the warmth he once felt so long ago. Oh, that’s right. Traum can’t feel anything in this world of dreams. It’s right there. The warmth is holding him. It was impossible to touch it.

A deep breath. He shifted his body off of the frozen warmth. He wiped his eyes, tried to breathe once again, and, finally, parted his lips. “His name is Zeit. He’s my brother– my twin.” His voice shuddered and cracked. “We grew up in a circus together. Our mother,” Hands covered his face,, burying his head in his knees once again, “Our mother always wore odd outfits. She would go off to practice, and she– she always came back with cuts and bruises.”

“Oz, I don’t know why she did!” Traum jolted his head up to look at his only friend in the universe. How unsightly the dream must have been with his puffy eyes and quivering lips. “I kept asking Zeit, but he said he didn’t know. I couldn’t do anything to help her. I wasn’t a magician. I was so much smaller than I am now. I was a child. Magic didn’t exist in that world. I was–” Human.

“But it didn’t make sense,” He kept recalling every image of memories he saw, “Zeit said he didn’t know. So why did he stop answering me later? Why did he tell me that I couldn’t know? That it would be better if I never found out. Why did the man with stars in his eyes say that it was all a secret? None of it makes sense ..” His voice died down. “That’s all I can remember.”

Traum’s gaze turned towards his sleeping twin, then to the shard. “I want to know more,” He picked up the shard, cradling it in his hand, “I want to know why we’re here. I want to know why my mother came back the way she did, and why she wore those odd outfits.” He paused. “Would you help me look for more of these shards?” The fact Oz dreamed his way here was long forgotten. The fact that he was going to disappear sooner or later slipped Traum’s mind.

How unbearable these memories would prove to be for the dream who once believed that this still world was his only home.

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          Traum doesn’t know. That fact settles uncomfortably between Oz’s ribs, the fact that there’s very well an unknown laying before them that hasn’t been prepared for. A hope, a wish, but no thought of what happens after. Oz keeps his uncertainty swallowed, feels it inflating inside his chest as Traum peels back the sleeping boy’s fingers. 

           A shard. Oz tilts his head to get a better look at the object, cautiously glancing over at Traum. He seemed just as confused as Oz, that’s good. “I dunno either... try examining it.” Oz looks back at the shard, now being cradled in Traum’s palm, but... 

          “Uh, Traum?” the blond peers up at his friend, confused, “Are you gonna look at it?” No response. What’s he looking at? Oz moves himself closer to Traum, looking at the same space his friend was, but finds nothing there. He leans back, eyebrow raised as he searches for something. Traum sees something, he definitely sees something, but--that shard. A memory shard! It hits the blond right as Traum jolts back to life, immediately dropping the shard on the ground. 

          “Wait, everyone?” It definitely had to be a memory shard--Oz remembers the moment he first picked one up, in the golden pocket watch: Alice’s room in the tower, being choked alive, the horror... only to end right back up with Gilbert, next to that grave. No answers, only the memory. “H-Hey, Traum, it’s ok, what did you see?” 

          Oz wraps an arm around the sobbing boy’s frame, reaching out towards the shard only to hesitate. Would he the same memory Traum did? Or... is it like the pocket watch--gone? Questions whirl through his thoughts, the blond comforting his friend until he finally settles on a question. “Did... did you learn who this is?” 

Just what did he mean by that? What will he do? The answer was obvious. I’d … The dream frowned. It was on the tip of his tongue. It was right there. Nothing. “I– I would,” Silence. It was pointless. “I would …” Dead ideas. Sleeping thoughts. An unfortunate reunion between twins who no longer knew themselves, nor remembered who they were to each other. Traum kept his mouth shut. The misty dream of seeing the color the sleeping secret’s eyes faded. How would he even start?

That’s not what I meant .. He moves on. At least he knows he’s no longer the only one who asks those questions. At least now he knows that this situation is far from natural. At the least, at the very least, the secret was going to wake, wasn’t he? As Oz tried various different ways to wake up, all too foreign for the dream who never slept, the little hope began to die down. Isn’t he? No, he wasn’t.

Something else popped up. He gaze turned towards the secret’s hand. “Yeah,” He whispers as his hands hold the soft, warm skin of the sleeping boy. “He does.” Traum felt as if he were intruding. He didn’t know this boy. All he did was talk to him. One-sided conversation everyday. But still, he couldn’t stop. The curious dream gently opened the secret’s fingers. No signs of waking up. He picked up the tiny object.

A shard.

Time seemed to move too slow. Traum peered at the shard, then to the secret, then to Oz. Why would he be holding this? “I don’t know what this–” And suddenly, everything around him disappeared. Everything changed. Where was he? No, honestly, where was he? He wasn’t there. Not the him now. There was just another him .. A smaller him. Then another one. The twins named Träumen and Zeit.

The world around them was nothing like Dreamworld. There were so many people. So much noise. So many colors. Someone else was almost always with Traum and Zeit as well. Their mother. A word he never understood now made sense. The concept of family finally made sense. The feeling called love made sense. After all, that’s all he was surrounded by.

But something didn’t make sense. Something was off. Eerie. His mother dressed in odd outfits. Far different than the crowds of people he would see every once in a while. His mother always told him that she had to go to work. She had ‘practice.’ Every time she would come back with cuts and bruises. Magic didn’t exist to heal those wounds. He was too young to pay too much attention to it. It was just a little dream with slow moving time.

Time passed. Traum couldn’t shake off the feeling that the mother his condition was in wasn’t right. He asked Zeit. He knew as much as Traum did. ‘I don’t know’ was the first answer. So tell the little boy why it changed to ‘I can’t tell you.’ ?  Why did his mother cry and beg for them to get away from this circus one day? Why did the man with the stars in his eyes tell Traum that it was a secret? Even though he was surrounded by people, there were no answers.

The dream blinked. He was back in Dreamworld with his twin and Oz. What did he see? It was something he lacked: Memories.  If that’s true, then how did he get here? How did Zeit get here? Where was their mother? What was this world? It wasn’t the place he was in before. How did he get from there to here? He yearned for answers.

He looked at Oz. The air around him felt as if it was trying to choke him. His eyesight became blurry. There was a twisting feeling in his gut. His throat felt tight. He crouched, head in knees, hands dropping the shard to the ground and then to clench his hair. It ate him away. He woke with this knowledge that something was missing. Something had been taken away from him. Something so precious. And yet, even now, he could only recall what a crystal shard had given him.

“Where did everyone go?” He couldn’t help but sob.

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           [ Update; literally revives from the dead to inform y’all that hey, I’m still alive? Finally hit summer break and will hopefully have a chance to hop on here, activity is... questionable since I’ve had Oz for literal years and he’s sorta... finicky. Also theme HTML change and new music, yay mashups! ]

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          On second thought, he’ll gladly take the loneliness-- 

          “I suddenly think I want rabbits to have a long life, fulfilling           life, just to spite you or something...”

‘ Good thing they’re good at MULTIPLYING then —  perhaps it was intended since they reproduce so much.  I mean if they didn’t die quick there would be an over population for sure. ’

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          "Y’know... rabbits die when they get lonely--”

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          Nothing ever changes: the boy sleeping never moves, the world around Traum never changes. Oz views such stagnancy with distaste, the unpleasantness leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe Traum can stand it because this is all he’s ever known. Oz frowns to himself, still balancing on his feet while crouched, as he nods to Traum’s words.

          “Hey, uh... before I try to wake him up, Traum.” Oz looks over to Traum, his lighthearted smile now faded into seriousness, “If we actually manage to wake him up... what’ll you do?” It’s something he feels he has to ask, the consequences to such a move completely unknown. What if the boy didn’t wish to be awake? That he carried to the key to a truth that Traum would happier never knowing? It all sounds absurd, yet... it could happen. “Y’don’t have to answer right away, but... anything could happen. Just, keep that in mind, if you haven’t.” 

          Now, to the actual waking. 

          “Uh, as far as what you said before--you’re right. It feels like he’s not supposed to be here, but he just is. Like, how’d he get here? Why is he asleep?” the blond talks whilst he begins to handle the sleeping figure on the bench, shaking his shoulder lightly, “It doesn’t look right to me.” No, it doesn’t--even as he lightly pulls at the youth’s cheeks (Gilbert almost always woke up with this!) he finds no response. “It’s just... eerie.” Far too unnatural. 

          Oz performs a series of other ideas as they come to mind--like, opening the boy’s eyelids, tickling under his arms or his sides. Its as his hands graze against the boy’s sides when the notice’s the boys hands. One of them was clenched. “Hey, Traum--is it just me, or--” Oz motions to the boy’s clenched fist, and mimics the hand with his own, “--does it look like he’s holding something?”

Again, he’s reminded that he’s so far from his only friend. Even though Oz is right there, even though he made physical contact, it had a sense of nothingness to it. Like it wasn’t real. He kept that in the back of his mind. He dared not to dig it up. How dare it seep back to him. How cowardly and cruel to contain it far, far away from his conscious.

Traum couldn’t help but envy Oz. Words he didn’t understand. Hectic. Chains. To a certain extent, friends. Was it possible to have more than one? All at the same time? He laughed. “I’ve never heard someone calling this place that!” Envy was going to get him nowhere. Constantly he reminded himself that this wasn’t going to last forever. Pushing out the crawling sorrow, the magician let his attention shift to the only real, lasting person in this world. Real being the key word.

Kneeling by the sleeping body, he couldn’t help but whisper, “I’m back.” For a moment, Traum was silent, just staring at the spitting image of himself. “Yeah,” He stood up, his voice still low and gentle, “He never changes. Not once since I’ve discovered him has he changed. He only sleeps.” A short laugh. Traum sat next to the dreamer, elbows on knees, hands on cheeks, leaning forward. “You know, even though I’ve seen him just about everyday, he always feel out of place. Foreign. It feels the same as a dreamer. It’s like, uhm, how do I put this?” He hummed trying to come up with the words to explain, “Like you guys have something I don’t. Like you are something I can never be.” Like I’m the dreamer.

“But those are just hindering thoughts that’ll eventually disappear, right?” Once again, he laughed. “So tell me! How should we wake him up?” A shade of a smile.

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*6 years later and still praying for a pandora hearts anime reboot*

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          Here, Oz recognizes the beginning of the labyrinth, the maze of alleys and houses all condensed together like ruined clay projects. Yet to be repugged clay. None of its really changed, and that brings some comfort to his mind. Oz feels Traum’s grip on his hand loosen, only to find the boy has sprinted ahead, ducking through alleys and reaching the first of the doors. Whoa, he’s fast! The Vessalius runs behind, ducking through the first of the doors after him. 

          Then things really begun to get familiar. The slanted floors, the hopping through windows and old photographs hung on crooked walls. Its all Oz can do to not stumble and fall, ducking and diving and turning. Just as he think he might’ve lost sight of Traum, his voice calling out redirects him, and Oz soon finds his friend’s hair, or his jacket poking into view. “You’re welcome, Traum!” Oz calls, a soft ‘hup!’ escaping him as he pulls himself through another window, “I enjoy being here! I mean, things just get so weirdly hectic back where I live--chains and my friends and everything--that this place is a breath of fresh air!” 

          He laughs, genuinely--heartily. “I’m glad you like having me around~!” Whoa, wait, they’re almost there! Oz pauses in his speech, careful to not get lost (like he’ll forget Traum’s warning in the past of getting lost in this strange labyrinth) before finally exiting the house. Gently, he rolls his shoulders, examining the space before them as he sucks in a deep breath. Yep, same as before... 

          It’s almost unnerving, to see the boy on the bench again. His expression turns serious, and he approaches the bench, only to sit down in front of it with a sigh. “You aren’t kidding, he really doesn’t change--”

The silence bothered him. Maybe it was better to keep his mouth shut. Maybe it would be a little more bearable if he didn’t spend so much time with someone from another world. Including himself, as he shouldn’t know at this point. There was no point to continue a dead conversation that only let him knock on dead ends. How he wanted someone to answer. Sometimes questions just have silent answers it seemed like.

But this was his friend. So who cares if he couldn’t get everything he wanted? Who cares if he can’t conjure everything he’s been unable to dream of? He had someone far greater. Traum was excited. Something about this– the friend, the secret, and the magician– it felt so … alive. This foreign concept he’s never once been exposed to suddenly felt like it was something he’d been yearning for his entire lifetime. Although, it felt like it started far before that.

Traum continued this silence. A smile painted on his face, this warm atmosphere. His pace quickened to the land of mystery. One step in, no more magic. He followed a path all too familiar, and by this time, he let go Oz’s wrist. He was almost running at this point. Down alleyways, through doors. All these signs of life in an abandoned dream. Traum stopped to look behind him, making sure Oz wasn’t too far behind.

In the middle of a room with dusty books, forgotten family portraits, and empty, lifeless rooms, the dreaming magician couldn’t help but smile with the joy of knowing that there was hope. A teeny tiny bit. “Say, Oz, thank you for telling me things I didn’t know about,” Even if it doesn’t work, “It really means a lot to me!” A short breath, “And, even though it probably sounds like I’m only concerned about him … I actually–!” Ah, what’s the word? “I really enjoy your company as much as I do being with him.” Corny, yes, but who can blame him? It’s not like he’s used to having any friends.

This entire world was a fresh start for Traum, though he had no knowledge of that. It slipped his mind that dreams don’t last forever. Oz could wake up any minute, and Traum is too caught up in the warm concept of hope.

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          [ As I’m slowly dying of exhaustion, have some Oz-related thoughts-- 

          Oz has difficulty admitting he isn’t always okay. He’s very expressive, and can appear very carefree, but when it comes to his own pains and concerns he internalizes it. Little by little, throughout Pandora Hearts, he’s been getting better at this, but this is one theme about Oz that I’ve noticed and feel very proud of him for?  I mean, here’s this teenage boy, with an emotionally abusive father and extremely low self-esteem. 

          He cares so deeply for his friends and his family, but himself? He was self-sacrificial, he hadn’t thought about what his disappearance meant for people like Gilbert, or Ada or Uncle Oscar. Not until Elliot put things into perspective for him. From that point on, though? Its clear he still has great difficulty admitting when he isn’t okay, but he’s beginning to open up more and more. It wasn’t just this thing that got magically corrected once Elliot pointed out how flawed Oz’s thinking was. Oz has come so far, overcome so many things, and even with his past he’s handled so much. 

          Oz’s journey through that kind of growth is really fascinating to me. I’m so proud of this kid, since he finally realized it’s okay to exist, and that it’s okay to admit you aren’t always fine. Just, wow. ]

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          “... that doesn’t mean the company’s welcome, y’know--”

     “see? there’s a—reason why I—stay around—you.”

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peccatorex replied to your post

weLL, he’s impressed.

          “Well, aren’t you funny--”