#the doll saga continues

[ollikah]

I mean, how can you pass that up! It's an exclusive collectible!

[animezinglife]

Sometimes I feel stupid for being my age and fawning over a guy I spent all of two days with who lives halfway across the country, and then he gets down on all fours to play with his dog and talks to her like he’s talking to a baby and I realize my feelings are completely legitimate.

The man could look like a sack of potatoes and I’d still find that attractive.

Unfortunately, he does not look like a sack of potatoes. 

[dunkinbublin]

continuing the baby tails saga because. cute

and i can't think of anything else rn

soooo how about amy gets a chance w the baby?

maybe paints his nails or does his hair or smthn, idk lmao

hope your power comes on soon <33

getting dolled up to coco melon

[doumadono]

hii it’s the twice & dabi anon again.

i’m sorry to ask for another emergency request but i’ve been having so much difficulty with my mom over the past year and a half, maybe two. it’s only been getting worse and now she doesn’t even talk to me. i only get updates from my little sisters and— oh my god it’s just horrible. i feel so bad that i had to leave them. but, i just couldn’t stay, you know?

could you maybe write something about twice & dabi comforting their partner/gf about the situation??

you don’t have to write for both!! either or is perfect!!

i just love the comfort you’re willing and able to provide. (even though you don’t have to. it’s truly heartwarming seeing you do this all. i really appreciate what you do.)

i really hope you’re doing well and taking good care of yourself. please be sure to eat properly and drink water!!

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're going through such a difficult time. It's important to prioritize your well-being, and I hope things get better for you soon. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! Your appreciation means a lot. Even though I'm not doing well lately, I'll make sure to take care of myself. Wishing you all the best too! 🌟

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

Twice

Amid the chaos that permeated your mind, Jin Bubaigawara appeared with a boisterous greeting that momentarily broke the heavy silence that surrounded you. "Hey, babe! Twice is here to lift your spirits!" he declared with his characteristic energy, though his eyes held a genuine concern as he noticed the weight on your shoulders.

As you poured out the complexities of your strained relationship with your mom, Twice listened attentively, his empathy shining through. "Dang, that sounds tough. But you know what? You're strong for facing it head-on, I admire that," he remarked, his voice carrying a mix of reassurance and admiration.

He enveloped you in a tight hug, and his voice softened, "You did what you had to do for your own well-being. Don't beat yourself up about it." He pulled back, looking into your eyes. "You're not alone, okay? The League's got your back, and so do I."

Twice pondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you'd like to engage in something? Not sure what exactly. Toga mentioned once that staying busy is beneficial - it keeps your mind from wandering into overthinking territory. And hey, if you ever need a clone to handle some mom-related drama, I got you covered. Double the trouble, double the fun!"

Dabi

The faint glow of Dabi's cigarette illuminated his face as he leaned against the wall, his stoic demeanor unwavering. "Come here, doll," he said, gesturing to the spot next to him.

As you recounted the painful saga of your relationship with your mom, Dabi listened in silence. When you finished, he took a slow drag of his cigarette before speaking. "Family can be a real mess, I know that. Sometimes, you gotta step back to save yourself."

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Leaving doesn't make you weak, ya know? It takes strength to break away from toxicity, in fact." His voice was low, carrying a raw honesty that resonated with your own emotions.

His long fingers traced soothing patterns on your back as he continued, "You're not alone in this. The past doesn't define you, and you're building a future for yourself, not for them, yeah?"

Dabi's lips curled into a smirk. "We're both well aware of the hell it is to deal with toxic nonsense within our own families. Parents messing up their own kids? That's a special kind of mess."

He lightly tapped your nose. "Take it easy, and find ways to keep that beautiful head of yours focused on other things. Overthinking is just a slow way to kill your own self. Don't let it consume you."

He extinguished the cigarette and looked directly into your eyes. "Just so ya know, if you ever need someone to lean on, I'm here. We're in this together."

[chicademartinica]

The Kanghan getting all dolled up to go see Sailom saga continues. Still all black, still his best bling and moisturized to a T. Also after giving Boo the worst sponge bath (but maybe the most earnest too)in Thai BL history Kang was so giddy when he came back. « I have SOUP and TIGER BALM and I’M SMILING TO MYSELF BECAUSE I’M’USEFUL (and so not floored that someone as smart and charming as Sailom likes me.)

[deconstructthesoup]

Analyzing "The Web I Spin For You"

Okay, so... THIS FUCKING SONG is one of the most interesting and compelling songs in the Nightmare Time saga, and nobody ever talks about it---unless they're praising Mariah's voice, which is something you should be doing regardless. Outside of "The Summoning," this is the only song sung by one of the gods of the Black & White, and unlike "The Summoning," which is just vibes, villain chaos, and dealing out some Faustian bargains with the NPMD gang, this song actually provides lore. It shows us a deeper look into Webby's psyche and motivations, something that the Lords in Black have yet to be gifted. It gives us a hint as to how brothers and sister split apart... and I think it might be our very first---and so far, only---look into the parent of these eldritch beings.

Okay, let's start.

"Why do you haunt me like a ghost? / You're supposed to love me the most"

Right off the bat, we have emotional depth. Webby is singing about someone who has hurt her, someone who was supposed to love her but instead used her and continues to haunt her life. Who is this person, and what did they do?

"Got me in the spell you cast / The iris of your eye is black / Weren't you the one to watch my back / Unlike the witches you summon?"

This is where it ties into the episode, with "witches you summon." You get the clear sense that Webby is talking about a family member---maybe her brothers, but it has to be one in particular, and it doesn't really feel like she's talking about Wiggly... if nothing more than the fact that his irises are very clearly not black, at least if the doll is anything to go by.

"Have you noticed that my trust has turned / You may have taught me, but now I've learned / Gotta catch you before I'm burned / In the web I spin for you"

Now, here is where it starts to make sense. I think this song is about the father of the Lords in Black and Webby---someone who taught them how to be gods of chaos. Maybe once upon a time, Webby believed in what her father was teaching her, maybe he even kept the truth secret from her, but she grew up, saw through it, decided that she didn't want to participate in the evil, and left.

At this point in the song, the phrase "the web I spin for you" seems to refer to something Webby made for her family's benefit, and based on the lyrics, it eventually became a curse for her. I saw someone mention the theory that Webby created the split timeline... and you know what? Maybe that is the web she made. A blessing, because nothing is ever permanent and nobody ever truly dies, but a curse, because she watches her brothers succeed again and again, and even when she wins, there's no guarantee that the people she helped will be happy. In fact, the episode this comes from has the only ending in the Hatchetfield universe---nobody dies, Hannah makes it out with Miss Holloway's help, Lex and Ethan get out of jail. And honestly... it hits harder that way, because I think there's enough evidence to suggest that The Witch In The Web is in the same timeline as Nightmare Time 2. And we all know how that ended.

"You used to keep me at your side / (Have you given that up? Have you given that up? Have you given that up?) / I suppose you'd have me empathize"

The way I'm interpreting it now, this could add fuel to the fire as to why the LiB resent Webby. Maybe back when she still believed in her family, she was her father's favorite. But something happened---maybe nothing more than the fact that she was kind---that changed all that. In the very next line, she says that the person she's singing about stabbed her in the back. Maybe she was lied to, maybe she was betrayed---whatever the reason, this could be why she left.

"Have you noticed that my trust has turned / You may have taught me, but now I've learned / I'll enjoy it as I watch you squirm / In the web I spin for you"

Here is where "the web I spin for you" shifts from being something Webby made to help to something she made to trap. The web she made---maybe it's the timeline, maybe it's something else---benefits nobody, but especially not the people who hurt her. She doesn't trust them anymore, so she's turned her web into something that can hurt them back.

"What's the point of giving love and trust for / I thought it something that was worth the fight for / And now I wonder what I worked so hard for / I even thought that I could give my life for you"

God. Damn. There's so much I can say, but the first thing that comes to mind is... poor Webby. Based on these lyrics alone, she has been hurt, she's been betrayed, she's likely been lied to or mislead about the purpose of what she was doing, and it's a miracle that she's still her loving and caring self. And speaking of which...

"I was the only one that loved and cared for / Have you noticed that I have it in for / As I grew older that I have no need for / The web I spin for you"

This one is actually pretty straightforward, and it lends credence to the theory that Webby truly is the only Queen in White---the only good entity in her family. The next line could either indicate that she's grown to the point where she's too powerful for the web she made, or she's outright rejecting her family and the purpose they gave her---either way, it's still cool.

"If I'm-a trust, I'm gonna trust in me / You may have taught me, but I'm now learning / All this time, I've been untangling / The web I spin for you"

And THIS RIGHT HERE is where the "gotta take it back, take it back" refrain all throughout the song makes sense. Webby is now attempting to undo her actions, now that she knows that she can't trust her family and that she's learning on her own. She's untangling the web she made, and in doing so, turning the tide.

"No doubt that if I drop dead / You'll find me tangled up / In the web I spin for you"

Full disclosure---I always have to look up those last two lyrics to know what they are, and they're very bone-chilling. My only thought to what this might mean is that... Webby's saying that the web she made might kill her. And she's either trying to guilt the person she's singing to, or she's furious at the fact that they made her create such a thing, and... yeah. I don't know what's more hard-hitting.

ANYWAYS, this song is supremely underrated

[some1s-sista]

Attic Clean Out Continues

Yup. Still going through it all. 20 years off stuff collected up there. Donate. Keep. Sell.

I’m almost through all the clothes. A couple more bins to go through. These I donate. Another bin of boys 3T and 4T to go through today.

I found this table up there. I wish I had taken a before picture. Tightened up the loose joints with Swel-Lok, removed some paint drips, slathered on the dark scratch cover oil, and when that dried, finished with orange oil. This is a keep. Put it in the guest room.

Have started in on the piles of toys. Need to vacuum off Mini-me’s doll house then cover it with a sheet to keep the dust and spider/mouse/bat poop off of it Found my older girls’ easy bake oven from 1997! Along with their little child chef sized mixing bowls, utensils, aprons, pot holders and oven kits. So cute!!! I think I will sell the oven on EBay. Works, nothing missing, and in original box. The other stuff I can sell in FB Marketplace.

The saga continues

[ellsieee]

Episode 7 of I Cannot Reach You was so freaking cute! The claw machine doll saga continues. I love this touch so much and they're really running with it.

It's awwwing at the cuteness too. 🤭

It doesn't know what to do either. 😂 Is this the first time the doll's expression was a direct response to Kakeru?

[salazarsrighthand]

Alright so I'm on the train to college now and I've had some time to sit with my thoughts on Shadows of Rose. Here are some thoughts. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

- the twist that "Michael" is Ethan was so obvious that I don't know if it's even worth calling it a twist

- "Do you... resent him?" Hit me like a knife in the heart

- me: [exploring Ethan's house and crying like a bitch]

- Eveline:

- the Masked Duke calling the clones of Rose "Rabbits" was very interesting to me because-

- the story starts with Rose falling into a dream world, chasing a "Rabbit" and has an extended section where she's shrunk to the size of a doll. Big Alice in Wonderland vibes but not enough for me to be sure it was intentional.

- the puzzles in Castle Dimitrescu felt very PS1 era RE, complete with themed keys and painting puzzles.

- the lack of a merchant or enemy loot drops is also very classic RE. I get the impression that it was intentionally a return to the old format.

- Mia is mentioned maybe twice throughout the DLC and I don't think it's ever by name. Kinda weird, Rose even says she hasn't seen her mom in ages. What's with that? They didn't really explain it.

- Eveline continues to be an extremely tragic character. She just wants a family!! She just wants to be loved!!

- House Beneviento once again provides some of the best content in the entire game. When the creepy Mia mannequin started chasing me I was like "lmao okay I can walk backwards cool" then there were TWO. Then more!! And you're in these tight corridors, not knowing if one's gonna be behind you but you can't turn around in case you lose sight of the ones chasing you. Then you're shrunk and there's the hide and seek, which honestly feels like an infinitely more exciting version of the Scarecrow stuff in Batman: Arkham Asylum.

- Rose's character was interesting, we get to see her being ashamed of who she is because of her... unique circumstances and the bullying she received as a result. Unfortunately it's largely a very generic story about self acceptance and like... yeah obviously she's not going to give up her powers by the end. I'm familiar with this kind of story and know how it's gonna go. Honestly her relationship with Ethan and her rapport with him as "Michael" is the best part of her character, which is a shame. I would've liked to get a better sense of who she is outside of that aspect.

- some people think that the ending implies that Ethan was secretly still alive in the end, since he's walking on the road beside the car. Personally, I think that undercuts the story and doesn't work. I do believe that he's still somewhere in the megamycete network, watching over Rose the same way he had been for the past 16 years.

Overall, final thoughts, I had a lot of fun with the DLC. I really like Rose's character but I'm not keen on the franchise having a massive time skip so I think I'm okay with leaving her where she is at the end of the game. Her arc has a satisfying conclusion to me. She's made peace with herself, accepted her powers, reconnected with her father and got the chance to say goodbye to him. It's not a great self contained story, not a full fledged campaign like Separate Ways was for RE4, but it's an effective epilogue that lets the Winters Saga end on a much more optimistic note.

[ilovebeingaturtle]

When I say 87!Raph always gets thrown around like a rag doll this is what I mean (also continuing the long running “what the hell Donatello” saga)

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 28, 2024

My posts

I spent the first half of the week struggling through (well-medicated) mania and the second half currently with a sinus infection! I’m not enjoying it! Not either one! 

Reblogs of interest

Pro-Gaza protests at universities in the U.S.: a solidarity Passover seder and an accidental Pulitzer photo

Canada Agrees 200 Islands Belong to the Indigenous Haida Nation

--

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls continue to go for the throat. I felt so bad about Dorothy Dandridge that I started posting and reblogging propaganda for her, but Ava Gardner, my beloved, went through anyway. Backing her felt like a wish on a monkey’s paw ("Not like this!!"). (See all poll results here.) I tremble to think what round 5 will look like. Like, there’s a point when your girl is gonna come up against a Hepburn, you know?

Notably gone this week: Judy Garland, Julie Andrews, Lupe Vélez, Irene Papas (who took out Vivien Leigh in the previous round), Gene Tierney, Barbara Stanwyck, Lena Horne, Jean Seberg, Anita Ekberg, Angela Lansbury, and Cyd Charisse. Like I keep saying, everybody loses. Everybody but one. Round 5 will start May 1st. 

--

Hozier Watch 2024: His first U.S. #1, which he’s now playing at shows! The first U.S. #1 for an Irish artist in 34 years! What?? you cry. Did “Take Me to Church” not do that ten years ago? Well, I went and looked it up: No. That was the “Blank Space” era. Say no more. 

Speaking of Taylor Swift—Paste Magazine went IN on the new album and got threats as a result. Meanwhile, Taylor’s fans are harassing the ex-boyfriend who did nothing wrong (as opposed to the racist one) because her PR is egging them on. I’ll admit: even though I’m not a fan, I found the Paste review to be overlong and not focused enough on the actual songs, proportionally. But that post about the PR saga is everything I miss about Fandom Wank. 

(“My rival dresses to display her legs, and her shoes are of an alluring fashion”)

Meanwhile, the Watcher guys issued the best apology possible, although it was still excruciating to watch. (Background.) They will remain on YouTube while introducing the streaming service. As a Patreon member, I haven’t asked for my free subscription code yet, but I’m going to. Some fans forgave them pretty easily; others have walked away. I’m curious to see if this affects the mood of anything new they film, since a segment of the fandom got really, really ugly about it. Mostly it just felt sad all around. 

Meanwhile, in Alabama: nobody wants to measure the feral hog.

Turns out Death Note had a good reason to concoct “American” names like “Bobson Dugnutt.” Also, I somehow had two posts tagged “death note” this week and I don’t even go here.

The worst brownies ever created and what Tumblr has to say about them

“You roll up to the Wizard Battle and your opponent takes out his spellbook but it’s just one of these”

I know that Loki is not Odin’s son in actual Norse mythology, but the bredlik is amazing.

TIL that Florence and Ravenna are still feuding over Dante’s remains

Maybe haunted dolls cost extra

Chorses

Video

Branch manager

Senior branch manager

“Free serotonin from Honey the Italian greyhound”

Sola learned to show love from her humans

I have seen many of jauncydev’s videos about dog personalities, but I have never seen him commit quite this hard before

I like tie-dye videos anyway, but this one is sick as hell

The sacred videos: you are not prepared for this police sketch, and neither is this news anchor

The sacred texts

Kick his ass, baby. I got yo flower.

Gold Star, You Tried: A compilation

A personal favorite: “mayhaps I TWIMST aroumd”

The origin of “By Talos this can’t be happening”

Personal tags of the week

Seasonally: cherry blossom. Also, art: an old standby, but it was really good, and also, I’m sick.

[slashermovhigh]

*the anon who’s been trying to expose Brahms returns from the death*

GRETA DON’T ASK WHAT HE’S BEEN DOING WITH THAT DOLL!

the saga continues

[morvantmortuary]

morvant mortuary x the boy au -

welcome to town (pt. II)

(pt. I)

summary: your realtor tells you everything about the old Morvant place. you make a decision, and a couple of new friends.

warnings: an attempted (but thwarted) assault on the reader by some rando. alcohol consumption. wall man!Maxi being a total creep and watching you sleep, among other things.

general: second verse, weirder than the first!

Within a couple hours, not only did Bev make good on her promise and have lights and power back, but you’d gone through the whole house flipping switches and pulling cords wherever you found them.

Just in case, you figured, just while it’s getting dark your first night here.

You already had water running to clear the faucets and pipes, and your suitcases haphazardly tossed in a pile in the master bedroom - a climb that definitely left you a little bit winded, after. You’d celebrated by changing to clothes ratty enough to clamber around a dusty house in, what little makeup you’d worn finally off. Like you were just having an average evening at home.

If this could be considered a home.

You were standing in the parlor, watching the sunset through the window you’d seen the shape in. But the longer you stood here, surrounded by the light fixtures cheerfully aglow, the more certain you were that you had imagined it.

Come on, now. Shadowy half-lit House with a bad reputation, after an entire family saga of death and destruction had just been generously heaped on your listening ears? Of course you’d imagined it. It would’ve been more worrying, you reasoned, if you hadn’t seen something looming behind the realtor. Seeing something just meant you were responding to social stimuli as you were meant to. Humans were supposed to be spooked by stuff like that, as your massive Horror movie collection indicated. It was only natural.

…Fine, so you were certain that you weren’t about to watch The Babadook or Lake Mungo in this place anytime soon, but that was you just trying to be mature, and not set yourself up for getting scared by perfectly normal House noises.

“It’s literally fine,” you said out loud to no one, your hands resolutely on your hips. “It’s my place. I can handle being here by myself, I live here now.”

That said, you looked down at your delivery app, checking the ETA like you had five minutes ago.

When it seemed a brief moment of human contact was no closer to you now than it had been then, you sighed - perhaps a little more tensely than you would admit - and looked around, trying to decide what else to busy yourself with in the meantime. If you were doing something, you were moving, and if you were moving, you didn’t have time to focus on what may or may not be looming in the corners of your eyes.

It was just you, as always, handling shit and getting it done by yourself.

…Or were you? By yourself, that is?

“Oh, right!” You snapped your fingers, remembering a promise you’d made what felt like ages ago, but you knew was probably only a few hours max. “My little buddy.”

You made a beeline for the viewing room, entirely missing the tall figure that silently moved out of sight at the top of the staircase, and thought about how you were only going to get this weird little doll man because you were a person of your word. Definitely not because even the idea of being accompanied by something that couldn’t talk to you was mildly more soothing than being here by yourself. Because you weren’t afraid of being here by yourself! Of course not! You were totally fine!

You opened the door, flicking on the lights instinctually, and basked in the sight of the slightly cobwebby chandelier illuminating the whole room.

…Okay, so maybe the paint was peeling just a little more than you’d realized. But still! Your own viewing room! In your own funeral home! How cool was that!

“So,” you continued talking to yourself out loud as you walked, taking your time to inspect things in the light. “Definitely going to need some paint, probably going to want to find a guy to polish and wax this floor professionally.” You picked up your foot, checking for dust on the bottom of your sock. There was a lot. “Actually, put that in the ‘Definitely’ column,” you said, putting it back down again. “And maybe also reupholster these chairs? I don’t know,” you frowned as you passed the rows for would-be mourners. “Is this old in a vintage, classic way, or is this old in a ‘Church rummage sale but it’s scary’ way? Or should I just get new chairs?” You pursed your lips. “Maybe when I see how much internal restoration the…” You trailed off as you turned to look where you were going. “Piano… needs.”

The little doll man was laying face up on the floor.

You frowned, looking from him to where you’d sworn he’d been sitting on the piano, and back down again. “…Huh.” You were still talking out loud. “…Not where I left you.”

The little man smiled up at you from where he lay, as if you’d happened across him simply reclining there.

…Five feet away from the actual piano.

You pursed your lips in thought. Okay. Simple enough. You probably knocked him over when you picked him up.

No, wait, you didn’t remember touching him. If anything, you pointedly remembered not touching him.

Alright, so you knocked into the piano without realizing it.

But you didn’t remember knocking into the piano. And definitely not hard enough to send him five feet away. That would’ve left a significant bruise on your end.

…Surreptitiously, you prodded the hip that had been closest to the piano, making sure there wasn’t some massive bruise under your clothes you’d just forgotten about in the rush of… everything.

There was nothing.

“Huh,” you repeated uselessly, your tongue poking nervously at the inside of one of your cheeks. “…Okay.”

You looked directly across from the piano, as if the small guy could have been… ‘traveling’, per se, in any sort of direction.

The only thing waiting there was a large framed painting - something you’d missed, in your murky inspection before. It was a replica of Ivan Kramskoi’s Inconsolable Grief: a woman in a dark dress stood in a well-appointed room, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as she refused to look at the heaps of well-meaning flower arrangements sitting at her feet. You recognized it from your time in school, when you’d thought a lot about how depictions of grief and mourning tended to look eerily similar across multiple eras. Kramskoi had painted a portrait of his wife, after the respective deaths of their two young children only some years apart — in some lights, an all too-eerie omen of what would befall the family here, you realized. It suited the room: emotional but still delicate, a fine lady experiencing her sorrow but not letting it overwhelm her. Exactly what you’d imagine the previous owners would have wanted to inspire here. This copy was even larger than the original, if you recalled correctly; it was nearly as tall as you were in this frame.

But there was nothing that would explain why the little guy at your feet had moved so far, in the brief span of time you’d been outside.

Like someone dropped him when they were trying to leave, your brain suggested.

The distant sound of a bell made you jump out of your skin, whirling to look behind you—

…And realizing it was simply the front doorbell.

“Fuck me,” you wheezed, clutching your chest for a moment. “Oh-kay, that’ll be quite enough of that. C’mon, fella. Let’s get you some dinner and a bath.” You reached down, snatching up the little man and hastily retreating from the room.

The front doorbell rang again, as if the person was impatient.

“Sorry! Coming!” you called towards the door. You hastily set the little man down on the parlor table where you’d thrown your bag, rifling through until you found your wallet.

When you opened the door, the pizza delivery guy looked surprised. “Whoa,” he said accordingly. “Someone did actually move in here. I thought they were just fucking with me.”

“…Yeah, hi,” you said, blinking at him talking like you weren’t standing right there. “I’m, uh, the new funeral director here. Or I will be,” you added quickly.

“Wild,” the guy said. He was tall and gangly, somewhere in your age range - whether older or younger than you, the somewhat oily state of his skin made it a little hard to tell. You wondered if he’d washed his face at all today, but the faint scent of stale weed and human sweat that drifted in on a breeze made you realize quickly that he probably hadn’t washed anything, actually.

You glanced curiously at his eyes, hidden somewhat under what appeared to be the stringy top of an outgrown mullet, and they were indeed fairly red.

Yeah, fair enough.

“Yeah,” you said, muffling a chuckle. “Tell me about it. Here, let me get this so you can head back.” You looked down to unzip your wallet. “Sorry, you surprised me, or I’d have it—”

“So is it just you?”

“…Out already,” you finished. You swallowed against your mouth threatening to go dry. He was high, he probably didn’t mean that like it sounded.

You looked up, blithe smile already in place to play this off as a misunderstanding. “Sorry?”

His eyes were already fixed on your face, though, rather intently. “Is it just you,” he asked, his words a little too slow. “All alone, in this big old house?” His voice sounded curious, like he wanted to look around — but his eyes slid lower on your body instead. Much lower than you were comfortable.

You cleared your throat to buy yourself a second. To lie, or not to lie. “Well,” you said, your voice frank now. “Until the dead bodies get here. Then it’ll get pretty crowded.” People normally got squeamish about your job — especially men, for some reason. The mere mention was usually enough to put someone off. “Then it’ll be me putting their faces back together and draining all the fluids out of their cavities, so. You know.” You nodded to the pizza box in his hand. “Can I—”

“Huh.” A leering smile spread over the pizza guy’s face. It wasn’t an outright grin, but the way it was so slow, like old blood trickling to the tray drain… it made your stomach flip, and not in a good way. “Wild.”

You were suddenly deeply, emphatically aware of your situation: you new were in a small town, alone, in a House where neighbors only heard you if you were screaming at the top of your lungs, and even then, they weren’t inclined to do anything about it.

Clearing your throat again, you held out some bills to him emphatically. “Yeah. Wild. You have a nice night.”

“You’re short.” Pizza guy barely glanced at the cash in your hand.

“No,” you blurted without thinking, so eager were you to get him gone.

“Yeah.” Pizza guy sniffed, his grin growing. He jerked his head to your hand. “‘Bout… another five or so.”

You glanced down. You’d only grabbed a five and a few ones when you’d meant to grab more.

He gave a laissez faire shrug. “It’s okay,” he said, and you hated whatever his tone was dripping with. “If you don’t have it, I’m sure we can—”

“NopeIhaveit.” The words all came out all in one breath like buckshot. You looked down at your wallet as much as you dared, your teeth subtly grinding together. “One sec.”

“What’s your rush?” Pizza guy said, and oh, fuck, that ripe smell was closer now. The hot edge of his breath was just reaching your shoulder. “I’m not in any hurry to...”

You were about to tear your wallet in half looking for that last five, or anything close. You were never keeping fucking receipts in here again, you were about to throw them all on the floor in your haste to just get him away—

“Go… nowhere.” His voice changed, getting even more spaced out and followed by a wheezing squeaky sound.

You looked up immediately, wondering if he was about to spit on you or something—

And he shoved the pizza box roughly into your arms. “Keep it.”

You looked up from not dropping the box just in time to see him staring, eyes wide and buggy and red, at something over your shoulder before he turned and hurried away from the door.

“Youhaveanicenightnow,” he said over his shoulder, his words tripping over one another as he himself nearly tripped over an overgrown bush.

“I-“ You frowned, looking between his retreating back and the box. “Don’t you want—?”

“Nope!” he about yelped, waving a hand like he was trying to get rid of a cobweb. He barely got his car door closed before he was pulling away, tires nearly squealing as he stepped on the gas.

You lingered in the doorway until he was totally gone, staring in utter confusion. If you’d turned around, you would have noticed the ragged-looking shape that silently retreated up the stairs again, from where it had been standing just within the pizza guy’s line of sight. A warning.

You belonged to this House now, whether you realized it yet or not.

But instead, all you saw when you turned was your little cloth pal waiting for you on the table.

“Well.” You kicked the door closed behind you, looking from the box back to him. “…Welcome to town, I guess.”

Your tiny silent friend just smiled back.

—

You sat at the kitchen table while your friend sat in a bucket of suds on its surface, the pizza box open and half-empty between you. You hadn’t pulled out the nice china still in the cabinets — you’d need to sort through that, see if it was better to sell it as-is or save it. You were more accustomed to eating out of boxes and bags anyhow, trying to keep more dishes from piling up in your sink.

Taking another long sip of screw-top wine you’d packed for when you got home, you sighed appreciatively. “I don’t normally do this,” you confided, glancing at the little man soaking in soap and warm water — your first clean batch since you’d been here. “I swear. Normally it’s one glass on a work night, two at most. And I really shouldn’t be doing this tonight, especially,” you added, looking back at the mostly-empty bottle. “I have — ugh, so much to do tomorrow.” You set the bottle aside, putting your face in your hands for a second. “I know the cleaners have been through, but we still have to go in and sanitize all the important stuff, you know? And I need to get internet set up, and tell my landlord I’m not renewing, and figure out how to sell all my old shit, and on and on…” Your hands fell to the table with a thud, causing the little man to jostle slightly in his bucket. His face was, as always, cheerful.

You smiled in return, tired but triumphant. “But at least it’s mine, right?” In a moment of exuberance, you threw your hands in the air. “I have a house! And a business! I did it!” You giggled loudly, then turned towards the door of the embalming room stairs behind you. “I DID IT! THANK YOU, DEAD PEOPLE!” you called cheerfully.

If you’d been more sober, you would’ve sworn the atmosphere in the room was suddenly tense. Like crackling in the air right before lightning strikes.

“…I’m sorry you’re dead!” you added a moment later, your hands still in the air, but feeling a little bit bad for bragging now. “Rest peacefully, and stuff!”

Nothing moved.

“Well,” you sighed, looking back to your friend. “Can’t please ‘em all.” You stretched, groaning, and sighed. “I guess we should turn in, huh?”

The little guy just smiled at you, still damp.

“…Yeah, okay,” you sighed, getting to your feet. You closed the pizza box, moving to put it in the fridge — and paused, waving a hand. “I’ll do it after I clean the fridge tomorrow. Just in case. It should still be fine, right?”

You didn’t wait for your friend to answer, fishing him out of his makeshift bath and dumping the water in the vast sink. After a few minutes’ rinse, you wrapped him in a dishtowel, patting him gently dry as you walked back into the foyer.

Standing at the foot of the stairs, even as wine-lulled as you were, the third floor bedroom still felt awfully far away.

You’d have to cross a lot of dark to get there, even with all these lights on.

“So,” you said at last. “How about we just, um. Crash on the couch tonight. Yeah?” You looked down at your little friend before turning, heading back for the relative safety of the living room just off the kitchen. After a few minutes’ debate, you allowed yourself to turn the floor lamp off - but the lights from the other rooms were still softly poking in around corners.

So you were technically sleeping with the lights off, your first night here. Like a Real Adult.

You yanked what excuse for a bra you wearing out from under your shirt, and wrapped yourself in a thin blanket you’d brought from home. Sure, your pajamas and a real quilt were just upstairs. But this was fine for now, right?

Indeed, it proved to be. After carefully setting your tiny escort on the table to finish drying and patting his head goodnight, you barely got through the first ten minutes of your sleep playlist - mostly instrumental piano pieces, staid and soothing - before you were already out.

Dead, for all intents and purposes, to the world.

-

The man managed to wait another twenty minutes before curiosity finally got the better of him.

With practiced silence, he padded from an unseen entry way in a corner full of shadows, then stood and gazed at your prone form from the doorway.

He stayed there another fifteen minutes, watching the slow hypnotic rise and fall of your breathing.

“…Pretty,” he whispered in soft awe, his breath stirring the lank hair covering half his face.

When you twitched in your sleep, jolting slightly, he flinched — bracing as if expecting you to sit up and scream.

But you didn’t.

When you kept right on sleeping, even nuzzling further into the couch cushions, he sunk to an impossibly low crawl, creeping unsettlingly further into the room.

You were oblivious to the red eyes that appeared like ruined moons over the couch’s arm, mere inches from your face. They didn’t seem to blink once for a good few minutes, as they watched the lights from the kitchen play softly in your hair.

Slowly - impossibly slowly, by fractions of inches - he leaned forward, then gave it the smallest, softest sniff.

He spasmed slightly, as if he was resisting the urge to shove his nose in your hair and wildly inhale, and looked quickly around…

To find your compression bra from earlier heaped on the floor.

He snatched it immediately, shoving his whole face into that instead, and rocking forward as if to smother himself with it. Without a sound, he then stuffed it down the front of what looked like a very tattered waistcoat.

Freezing, as if caught, he slowly turned to fix his crimson gaze on the side table.

Your little cloth friend - looking like a smaller, cheerier, less grungy version of the bedraggled man huffing your intimates - gazed at his larger counterpart, his smile now seeming like he was trying to overlook the half-living man’s deep social abnormality.

The red-eyed revenant leaned closer, inspecting the doll with a critical gaze before making a soft, vaguely impressed exhale: “Clean.” He extended a finger, reaching as if to touch his old friend — before he froze mid-air, as if examining the digit in the faint light for the first time in a while.

He made a small exhaled noise of self-reproach behind his hair, looking at the doll still as he wiped his hand - unsuccessfully - on the remnants of a dress shirt sleeve. He continued to stare at the doll for a period of time that spoke of longing, before looking back to your sweet, sleeping face… and sighed softly to himself, shoulders sagging. He gave the doll the tiniest wave before scuttling on, low to the ground, to the kitchen.

You were completely oblivious as the man returned and perched gently on the far end of the couch, watching you the entire time he silently nibbled on the smallest of the leftover pizza slices. When he was done, he continued to linger and simply stare, nearly hunched double on himself to avoid accidentally brushing you.

Once he was certain you were dreaming, perhaps of somewhere nicer than this awful House, he curled into a surprisingly small ball for his long frame with the ease of someone who’s done it far too many times.

He slept soundly at your feet, like a pet dog, until the first fingers of dawn poked through the curtains.

As he crept back into the inscrutable wall panel he’d emerged from, closing the wall of the family room back up, he couldn’t help but sneak a last look at you - so beautiful and oblivious in your slumber to his cursed presence.

He considered it, all in all, an excellent first date.

(kind of short compared to part one, but I really didn’t know where else to cut it that made sense. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ anyway! thanks for sticking with it!

here’s to more spooky fun to come soon💀✨)

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Shanks: I just don't know where I went wrong with Doll. I mean we had a great relationship when she's a toddler and a child but then when she got older she started wanting space and privacy. (He's clearly drunk)

Doflamingo: Maybe we can help each other out with our misbehaving girls

Doflamingo, eyeing up the youth-youth fruit: You say you want things to go back to how they were when she was younger? I think I can help you with that.

The saga of Shanks calling the worst possible people for parenting advice continues! Tune in next time when Shanks decides to call up Judge for tips on how to bond with your children!

[cringefaillosersummit]

Round 1 - Group 1A

Submission notes under cut. Some submissions had notes others did not:

Minamoto Sakura

Literally been a loser all her life. Became depressed and apathetic. When she finally got her life together again, she got run over by a truck and fucking died. Also, she's the only one of the zombies who's not LEGENDARY, and she continuously gets bullied by Kotaro. Cringefail Queen <3

(SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1) She failed at everything she ever attempted (got sick when she had the lead role in a play, sprained her leg 3 years in a row before a relay race, got distracted on her way to her high school exams and couldn't focus so she got low scores) until she finally gets hit by a truck immediately after leaving her house (she was on the way to mail in her submission for an idol audition). THEN she gets turned into a zombie except she loses her memory until she gets hit by a truck AGAIN (she never looks both ways when crossing the street rip). She loses her zombie memories but gets her human ones back only to remember that she was the ultimate cringefail loser who never succeeded at anything she tried in life. Also (SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2) her former classmate is the one who revived her and she cant even tell who he is when his entire disguise is a pair of sunglasses.

Misaki Shiki:

Was so jealous/in love w her best friend that she got cursed to look like her when she died. You literally never find out what shiki looks like in the original game. Also fights with a cat doll she made herself named Mr. Mew

[james5-doe]

The Netherworld Saga

I'm collecting the entire five-part Netherworld saga here, in anticipation of some possible artwork. I've added Dale's correct hair color. This is a peek at what could be Jedda and Rick's future on Earth N, a continuity created by @amanda-multifandom.

------

Chapter 1

Jedda knelt with Rick at Hadea's throne, waiting for an answer to why they'd been called. Rick's eyes were fastened on the queen's bare feet, which was the proper way to show respect. Jedda got to look at her mother's face.

Hadea was clearly in serious mode — even more serious than usual. She rested her arms along those of her chair. "Duncan MacLeod...has certain opponents. Many will rise in the days to come."

Jedda's brow twitched. She was surprised. "How did you even know of Duncan MacLeod?" And why did Hadea care about the guy? His struggles were occurring on the surface world.

"His clan and mine have history. A vow was made very long ago. There is a debt to be settled now." She paused a few seconds. "In order to assist him as best I can, I have to ascend to the rank of Empress. The title of Queen...shall go to another."

Jedda froze stiff, staring at her. This simply couldn't mean what she thought it did.

Rick began glancing between them both.

"I know that you desire to bond with...Jade..." Hadea said the name rather quietly. "But I may need your assistance soon."

Jedda had to pause to take all of it in. A part of her was utterly stunned by this. Another part of her wasn't smitten at all. She'd sensed she was going to live here someday. She was the Princess of the Netherworld, a title she'd been given when she'd met Hadea, when she was adopted informally.

But ruling here? Reigning as queen? She wasn't so sure she was ready for that — even if Hadea could help her prepare. "Mother..." she murmured. "Do you mean me?"

"It is the safest course of action now," Hadea affirmed. "Once MacLeod's opponents know who you are, once they have learned of the bond we share, they will endeavor to hunt you down. When the time arrives for you to join this fight, you will have better resources here. You shall be able to defend yourself — and to assist any others in need."

Jedda knew Hadea had a valid point, but she wasn't sure about this just yet. She and Rick had made certain plans above. They weren't quite ready to abandon those.

Where, exactly, would their future be?

----

Chapter 2

Rick felt tense — which wasn't bad. There was a good reason for that now. He held her hands, stroking them. "The first time I ever laid eyes on you — your little bare feet and your jungle skirt, messy hair spread above the leafy bra... Well, I reached a rather silly conclusion. I let my prejudice get the better of me." He took a slow breath. "But everything changed in the next few days. I saw you were smart, I saw you were skilled, and most of all, you were sensitive too." His eyes welled up. "And once I realized what was happening...I tried to deny it. I tried to ignore it. But that was a battle I was doomed to lose. I couldn't reject what I felt within."

He noticed her blushing as the words sank in.

"Jedda Walker..." He lowered himself. "There's nothing that I want more on Earth right now, than to have the honor of marrying you."

----

Chapter 3

Several Years Later

Netherworld Throne — 3:50 pm

Rick watched his daughter as she played on the floor, moving her dolls on a burgundy rug. Something was unusual about the scene: Dale wasn't adding dialogue today. On most occasions, to Rick's delight, Dale had the dollies talking to one another, demonstrating some of the things she'd learned — eloquent speech, personal manners, and even some basics of politics.

She had been quiet for the past few days. Rick hadn't figured out why that was. It always disturbed him when the kids were upset. Not when they were pouting, but truly upset. He had an obligation to shield them from pain.

He studied her lengthy, gold-colored locks, pulled right back in a cute half-up. He'd never seen a female as precious as her — except, of course, for her beautiful mom.

Leaning toward his wife, he lowered his voice. "So why is she being so quiet of late?"

Jedda adjusted her sparkling crown, curling her toes as she frowned a bit. She obviously had something painful to share. "She misses you, hon," she said in a whisper.

Rick felt a jolt. "What do you mean?"

He already knew. Over the last couple years or so, he'd done the very thing that he'd sworn to avoid. He'd made a child wonder why he worked so much.

Jedda smiled a tad — and only a tad. "She's not an infant, Rick. She's five years old. She wants to know a little more about her dad."

He stared at Dale, twitching a bit.

When he'd agreed to lead the Netherworld knights, he'd vowed to stay devoted to his kids and their mom.

But certainly enough, in Gordon tradition, he had let his duties take priority.

Things had been different for his father and mother. They weren't just spouses. They were a team. That had made it easier for them to commit — or less difficult than it might have been.

But Jedda was a queen. Rick was a knight. People like him had to be on the road. If he started living out there too long, he would be neglecting what mattered most.

Was it only Dale whom he'd come to upset? Were Chris and his wife feeling shunned as well? "Jedda," he said, holding her hand. "I promised that I'd be here for all of you..."

She smiled at him. A full smile now.

"And that's exactly what I'm going to do." He gave her a kiss. She kissed him back. Then he left the throne and eased down on the floor. "Hey, kiddo."

Dale grinned. She looked a bit cautious — as though she thought she had to protect her heart.

Rick eyed the floor. That definitely hurt.

Then he looked up, beaming at her. "Let's go out and play."

----

Chapter 4

Several Years Later

"What's wrong?" Dale asked, approaching the throne.

Her mother looked tense as she turned to her.

People liked to shower Dale with compliments. They called her astute for a nine-year-old — claimed she had the makings of a prodigy. Dale knew it wasn't really like that, though. She was no genius. She never would be. But she could read her mother pretty well by now. She always sensed when something was bothering her.

Her mom touched her brow. "A queen in the east — a foe of MacLeod's — claims she helped the Netherworld years ago. The time has arrived for us to pay our debt."

Dale scowled a bit. That didn't sound good. "What does she want?"

"Your brother's hand. She wants Christopher to move into her home, then marry her daughter when they come of age." Her mother grew quiet, eyeing the wall. She seemed to be in deep contemplation now.

What in the world was there to think about, though? Her brother simply wasn't a bargaining chip.

"Mom..." Dale felt a shiver within. "You can't be planning to agree to that."

"What? No..." her mother declared. "We told the queen to offer us proof of the debt. But even if she does, she can't have Chris. We'll simply find another way to pay her off." She stroked her chin. "There's something that's beginning to trouble me. The woman's been nothing but quiet since..."

Dale grew stiff. She eyed the door. "Speaking of Chris...where is he now?"

----

Chapter 5

There!" Dale yelled, spotting her brother.

Chris was on his knees in the green courtyard. A dark-garbed man was laying at his side.

A little dagger glistened in the fluttering grass. Splotches of blood were sprinkled everywhere — along the dirt, along the man, and most notably, on Chris's chest.

Dale froze a second, twitching in place. Someone had come to abduct the prince. This had resulted in a gory scene.

"No... No!" her mother called out, losing her crown as she rushed to Chris.

Her dad ran too, red in the face. He wore a look of horror that was foreign to her.

Dale hurried forth. She couldn't keep up.

"Chris!" her mother called out as she knelt.

Several guards were rushing to the courtyard now. Where had they been a few seconds ago?

"I'm all right, Mother," Christopher said, holding his eyes on the fallen man. Blood was splattered along his shirt. Sprinkles were mixed in his raven hair. "I grabbed his dagger as he picked me up."

The man had a gash right across his chest.

Her mother looked awed. Her dad did too. Both of them were too stunned to speak right now.

Her brother still appeared rather shaken as well. Only Dale was locked in reality.

"Chris," she said, touching his arms, "were there any others?"

"The other one ran."

Dale spun around. "Soldier!" she called.

A guard came and knelt.

"See that the outside walls are secured. We have to ensure that the partner is caught."

"Right away, highness," he said before moving.

Her mother looked proud as she turned to Dale, then she leaned down and hugged Chris at her side.

------

Rick took a seat on the side of the bed, claiming the spot right beside his wife.

Jedda rubbed the muscles near the sides of his neck, soothing his skin as she often did.

He let his stare linger on the carpeted floor. "He's nine years old, and there's blood on his hands." He'd never, ever, wanted that for his son. The people behind the abduction would pay. Both of the intruders gave their bosses up.

Jedda took a breath. "I had a bit of blood on my hands then too — back when I was Christopher's age, I mean."

Rick was confused. She'd never shared this.

"I had to strike an animal down in defense," Jedda revealed. "It left me upset...but it wasn't the same. It wasn't comparable to what Chris went through."

Rick looked away. "He's gotten so quiet."

"It's all sinking in. That's the way it was after my first time." She paused a moment. "I had just turned fifteen back then."

"I thought you killed the animal when you were nine."

Jedda hesitated. "I wasn't referring to the animal."

He eyed her again, deeply surprised. He loved this woman, and she loved him. They'd opened their hearts on so many occasions — but there were still things he didn't know about her.

He kissed her head. She stroked his cheek.

Then she stood. "I'm going to go check up on Chris again."

Rick remained quiet as he watched her leave.