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Art And Fanfic Status

...going along?


---{Tora and Auri}---

    Now, before joining The Eastern Circle of Magic, Virgil had been a very lonely person. His only company at that point had been animals and 7 brains in a jar and, while he did appreciate their presence, it wasn't exactly the same as having a full blown conversation with someone else.
So when he'd first joined in, he'd been quite excited to meet new people, sadly he'd been a bit too shy to just walk over and introduce himself. After all Plantkin were a rare sight these days...
    This issue was not present when he first met two of his best friends. To be fair, he hadn't really intended to meet anyone that day, he'd just been reading his thaumanimocon while going for a stroll when he literally stumbled upon the two and fallen over on top of the fluxy pale-haired boy.
Looking back now, he still found it quite amusing how Auri had panicked.
 "Tainted plants! I knew this day would come! Tora help!" He'd screeched as he'd began to flail and try to untangle himself from Virgil's much longer legs.
 "What? Tainted plants?" The Plantkin had raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by the ouburst.
 "Help! Help! Tora! It's going to eat me!"
    The girl in question just stood there mildly amused by the confusion. She seemed to understand the confusion in Virgil's eyes, shrugging at him and just motioning for him to try and talk some sense into Auri. Maybe then he'd calm down.
    As it turned out, it hadn't helped and Tora had to intervene before her friend could get anymore hysteric.
After the issue was dealt with, they'd been able to properly introduce themselves and Virgil had gained two new curious friends.


    His roommate was a peculiar kind of person. Not a magic user, a trades-person of mysterious origins with an odd name he couldn't pronounce.
Foreigner perhaps? It didn't mind, he liked taking care of her.
Saoirse and Virgil had met in very weird circumstances and since then they hadn't quite parted ways. While he did his magic and went to hang out with Tora and Auri (And occasionally that bully of an otter, Eron) he'd come back to a homely house where his roommate would be waiting for him.
    Saoirse was...Well a little bit like him. Very bad at interacting with people unless she intended to have them as a client. A Jack-of-all-trades in the world of deals.
Yet doing the simplest of things, such as remembering to sleep, tended to be an issue for her. An issue he could very well deal with.
Virgil would remind her to shower and rest and in turn she'd keep him company and sometimes sell him a few items he needed for a project.
She also extinguished him when he inevitably set himself ablaze.
    It was an odd relationship, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He hated being alone, he really did. Specially now that he'd began to socialize with people.
Still, while things tended to be a bit serious between them, there were moments of hilarious misfortune. Such as the time he'd set Brigid loose without notifying his roommate, or the time she'd dumped a whole bucket of bonemeal to see what happened.
Both learned that hungry rattlesnakes and giant Venus fly traps were not easy to deal with.
But what was life without a little bit of disaster here and there?


    There was none that Virgil was capable of hating more than Eron Ashford. An annoying and very aggressive Western Circle whom was also an otter.
The reason why he disliked him so much? Well Eron was a bully, and while Virgil had height advantage he sure as heck wasn't a fighter. Eron on the other hand knew how to hand peoples' asses in a silver platter. Figuratively and literally.
So at any time that Eron decided to show up, Virgil tried to keep close to Tora and Auri.
He didn't like to be cornered and alone in those situations.
If he could run away, even better. He was sure he could very easily outrun Eron thanks to his longer legs.
    Of course there were days he didn't have much of a choice other to endure the bloody otter. He was just grateful his regenerative properties could handle any scuffle he ended up getting himself into when the otter decided he wanted to pick a fight with someone.
That someone being him or Auri...Well, he aimed more for Auri but still.
At the end of the day, Virgil simply decided that he disliked otters more. He also wondered if their meat tasted good.
He should try eating some, one of these days...
Circles of Magic - Relationships
Summary: Virgil's thoughts on some relationships he has with his friends (and Eron)

[A little ficlet of my Eastern Circle character, Virgil!]</b>
    After the door had slammed, things had gotten a lot worse than before. It wasn't just the feeling of missing their creator, it was realization that they'd lost the last thing he'd created. A gift he'd spent endless days and hours on, just to try and make his presence as eternal as he'd promised his dearest friends.
They'd been selfish in their grief and while they had the right to be upset there was no excuse to be completely consumed by it. Smith would have been angry at them for taking it out on someone who didn't know they'd committed some imaginary and heinous crime against them.
They could almost hear him in their minds, scolding them in that fatherly tone.
"You know better than to do something like that, now quit being such twats and fix your mistakes!"
    Of course, they'd gone out looking for him. They'd called out his name and they'd tried to think where someone with their creator's mind would have run off to.
Sadly, they hadn't found the missing android.
On the 1st and 2nd night, they'd tried to keep calm about it. There was no way he could have gotten far with such low charge, he'd be somewhere they could reach.
On the 7th night they felt dread rising. On the 23rd, they'd realized they'd failed their creator.
 "We really messed up didn't we?" Ross asked as he looked at Trott from where he was sitting. The shortest looked smaller than usual, his eyes a bit glassy from his pent-up sorrow.
 "You didn't mess up, I'm the one who was going to shut him down..." the other replied with a sigh. "None of this was his fault...Smith would be so disappointed..."
    The only comfort they had was each other. It wasn't enough to calm their worries as eventually a storm began to brew up in the sky and heavy rainfall and thunder struck cruel and without mercy.
Where ever the android replica of Smith had gone, they really did hope he was somewhere sheltered.

    Heavy rain had been the only thing the two had seen all week. No signs of the android and what ever clue he'd left behind while fleeing had been flushed away by the storm's filthy water.
When the raging storm passed, they'd returned to looking around. There had been a considerable amount of damage in the streets.
Bins had fallen over; the few trees in the area had branches break off; the usual sort of things you'd find after a harsh downpour.
Anyone or anything that had been outside would have been soaked to the bone.
Things didn't look promising for the missing android.
    Regardless of impossibilities, Ross and Trott carried on their exploration. They needed to find Smith's double. They needed to make things right.
So it was of no surprise when they came upon the building Alex had slump against before shutting down.
It amazed them that no one had found him. It horrified them the state he was in.
    Smith had always made sure the two didn't stay out in the rain for too long. They were waterproof on the inside and their synthetic skin could withstand at least one hour of being soaked. But more than that and the materials would begin to decay.
That was a flaw their creator had never been able to fix. So of course considering Alex was so exposed to the elements, the two shouldn't have been so surprised.
A great chunk of his skin was missing and a lot of machinery was in perfect sight.
The android's horrific state of disrepair was reminiscent of a twisted horror movie.
Only instead of appearing like a zombie or a broken down murderous machine, Alex looked like a blend of the two.
Human and inhuman.
It was disturbing.
    They couldn't move him in broad daylight. Not like this, people would see the damaged android and put 1 and 1 together.
Instead, they returned home and prepared while slowly beating themselves up as the image of the broken down replica, their heavily neglected brethren, haunted their memory banks.
As night fell, the two drove back to the building. They were grateful no one had noticed Alex. They really were.

    After that, Alex had never been the same. Part of his programming had bugged terribly. Nothing that could lead to a shut down, but just about enough to make him inept at a few tasks, such as washing the dishes or tinkering with fragile items.
He broke them as he no longer had a grasp of his own strength.
Another thing that had changed was his attitude.  He'd become anti-social and refused their company. And since he was under house-arrest, for the safety of others and himself, he could no longer do anything his programming once thought normal of him.
He couldn't be Alex Smith anymore.
    Ross and Trott had done their best to fix him, they really had. But they could not undo what they'd wrought upon the youngest of the three, nor was their terrible "creation" willing to forgive them right away. Not when he felt so lost and betrayed.
With time, maybe they'd get a chance to redeem themselves. For now, they had to deal with the loss of Smith who'd been laid to a peaceful rest, and Alex who's start at life had been cut to hellish shreds by two people he thought he could trust.
Hatfic - Repercussions
Summary: Ross and Trott deal with the consequences of their negative behavior towards Smith's replica. Perhaps their creator had failed to create the perfect androids...Perhaps they'd failed him.

[Luney you are amazing and I love your Android AU. So here's a continuation of Fake]
    They'd never seen it coming, how could they really? This wasn't something they'd wished upon anyone, much less their best friend and family member.
No, they hadn't had any way of actually predicting this.
Not now, not ever.
    It had happened a few weeks after Alsmiffy had finished the Primal focus for his wand. He'd been excited and unpredictable, causing explosions and damage where ever he pleased after he recharged his wands, over and over again.
Those weeks had been hellish for both Djh3max and Trottimus.
 "Smiff! I swear to Notch I will snap that wand in half if you keep blowing shit up!" Trott had yelled at the slime, clearly frustrated with the amount of chaos he'd wrought with that stupid enchanted stick. "If you want to go wreck some things, then go wreck the taint or something! That you can blow up all you want!"
    The slime man glared angrily at this, he didn't much like it when people ruined his fun. But Trott did have a point. He could try clearing out the taint with the primal focus' charge.
So after a few hours of looking for nodes to recharge the wand fully, the Slime man began working on his new explosive task. Little did he know, things would not go well after he completed it.
    Dj and Trott had waited for hours upon hours until they saw their friend again. He was tired but satisfied with his handywork.
He'd dealt with the fluxy mess all by himself, not a speck to be seen anywhere near the building. All thanks to a very unstable type of wand foci.
Still he hadn't stood around to celebrate and boast, he'd been far to tired and ready to turn into a puddle of tired grumpy slime.
A nice soft bed was all he wanted and for the longest time, that was where he'd remain.
    It was about 4 am when Trott awoke after hearing a lot of movement coming from the slime's bed. He'd sat up tiredly and taken notice of how much Smiffy seemed to be tossing and turning. He was asleep but from the way his almost featureless face was scrunched up, the walrus could tell he was probably having a pretty restless slumber.
 "Smiff?" Trott spoke up before waddling over to the other's bed, shaking his shoulder ever so slightly. It had been a very long since Alsmiffy had last had a nightmare that could shake him up so badly. The last one had been when he was still a tiny little cube which would squeak in a high pitched voice and would refer to Trottimus as "Mommy" and Djh3max as "Daddy".
    The walrus couldn't help it when a small smile crept it's way onto his lips before he continued shaking the slime man. After a few minutes the other finally awoke with a start.
He seemed more liquid than usual, large damp areas appearing all over the bed sheets and pillow, almost mimicking how a person would wake up in cold sweat.
 "Easy mate, it was just a dream..." Trott spoke up in a calmer and quiet voice, trying to reassure his friend that all was alright.
 "...It felt so r-real..."
    The reply had come out in such a hushed tone that the walrus had nearly missed it and, with a frown, Trott began to inspect the other.
He looked sickly, as sick as a slime could appear anyway, and he seemed to be having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
Drained. That was the perfect word to use.
 "You feeling ok Smiff? You look a bit off." He stated, matter-o-factually as he kept looking the Slime up and down.
 "M'fine...Just a bit tired..." The other grumbled before laying down once more. Alsmiffy tended to be very grumpy when he was disturbed and this was clearly one of those nights.
 "Alright...get some sleep mate, it'll do you well."
    Smiff hadn't been able to sleep after that, simply laying in bed and staring quietly at the wall. He'd remained like that until the clock stroke 8 AM, then he'd finally fallen into a deep slumber while his friends awoke and went about their mourning routines.
Neither of the two questioned why their friend had decided to sleep in so late.

    Looking back, Trottimus wished they had regarded this as an issue to begin with. Days went by and Alsmiffy had grown lethargic and even more sickly than before.
He'd react slowly to things and he would regard everything with a look of irritation and would reply to the others' inquiries with a grumpy growl or a slurred affirmation.
Dj had become visibly nervous at this, he could feel that something was definitely wrong with the Slime and his paternal instincts, that he'd developed when taking care of Lil'Smiffy, were slowly resurfacing.
Trott was worried, he could see how Smiff's movements were so slow and how he seemed to be having difficulty keeping himself in a more solid state.
Finally when he simply collapsed one morning, the two put their foot down.
 "You're sick, you need proper care Smiffy!" Dj had barked out when the Slime had told them to leave him alone. "You need to stay in your bed while we try and figure out what's wrong."
 "M'fine!" He other had tried to scream back in a slightly hoarse tone before breaking down into a coughing fit.
 "You're clearly not, mate!" Trott yelled in frustration. "Please, just stay in bed! You need rest!"
    After that argument, things just seemed to spiral out of control. As time slowly ticked by Smiff became more and more aggressive towards the two, demanding to be left alone and saying that he could deal with some weird bug.
Sadly this was far from the truth. He could barely move and it took so much effort to stay solid that Alsmiffy couldn't do much else other than feverishly argue on and on.
Until finally, the sickness reached it's climax.
    That had been the last straw. The stress and the constant aggressive comments had been too much for the walrus. While Dj simply looked devastated, Trott looked beyond angry.
 "You know what? YOU KNOW WHAT?!" Trott had screamed. "FINE! I WON'T TAKE CARE OF YOU!"
    The other two had flinched, Dj biting his lip and moving over to pacify the walrus before he was shoved away with a considerable amount of force.
    And with that said, Trottimus had stomped off to cool down somewhere on his own. Dj and Smiffy were left in silence before the bearded ran after the pissed off walrus.
Neither took notice of the slight sniffling and occasional sob that the slime let out as he fully covered himself with his blanket.
Nor did they notice as a purple tint slowly began to spread through his gelatinous body.

    It was only two hours after that the two had heard strange guttural noises from the bedroom. The two had ran back and found what remained of their friend.
A feral tainted slime, monstrous and unable to recognize what had at one point been it's "mommy" and "daddy".
Both had been grief stricken, Trott the most out of the two. They'd tried everything to cure him, everything to bring back their friend. No, their son.
Yet no matter what they did, nothing worked. What had once been Alsmiffy was locked away in a room, growling and trying to find a way out.
Flesh and blood, it craved them. It needed sustenance, prey.
After a sleepless month, the two finally came to one conclusion.
 "This isn't what he'd want..." Dj spoke up in a hushed tone. "He'd...he'd want to be put to rest..."
 "No, we can't! We can't just kill him! It's Smiff!"
 "That isn't Smiff, Trott! Not anymore!" Dj exclaimed, trying to snap the walrus out of his stupor. "Please, you can't let him suffer like this...Not after everything we went through together..."
    It was decided that Trott would be the one to finish him off. It was only fair he'd said. He'd been the one to tell the Slime to get rid of the taint, it was his fault Smiffy had succumbed to it.
The two had been left sobbing, hugging one another, mourning the loss of their dearest friend. Their little baby slime.
They'd never gotten to say goodbye. Worst of all, Trott had never been able to say how sorry he was.
Hatfic - Tainted Slime
Summary: Trott regrets never being able to say how sorry he is.

[A quick sad little Slime Smiffy fic  that you can all thank Cait for. Thank you you evil nerd, luv your ideas cakeface :3]
    Alex Smith had been dead for 5 years. It was a rather sad fact, but true none the less...At least he could guarantee it was true.
To be honest, Alex hadn't been sure how the situation had escalated so quickly. One minute he was holding a lighter, the next he was in an agonizing amount of pain, the house burning down with him.
The fire department hadn't been quick enough to save him. 10 minutes earlier and maybe he'd still be alive, but what would the point be? He'd be disfigured beyond recognition and he probably wouldn't have been able to move on his own.
What would life be if he couldn't do the things he loved anymore?
    The house of course, had been completely remodeled and put up for sale. No one ever noticed the quiet man watching things change around him as he sulked in a corner, trying to come to terms with his own demise. People couldn't see ghosts after all.
When the house was finally done and people began nosing about, that was when Smith's patience ended.
How dare they intrude! This was his house! No one else's!
    A particular quality spirits had, which Smith soon found out, was that depending on their death they could manipulate certain aspects.
Alex Smith had burnt alive. While he looked normal in a good mood, he turned into a charred monstrosity when he was angry.
The heating in the room turned unbearable and people would keep away from the house, feeling his tremendous rage and sweating their fear.
It pleased him, filling their hearts with dread. This is what he should do as a spirit, haunt the place where he perished before his time.
    Eventually people stopped coming and Alex was alone once more. The emptiness and silence became his worst enemies as he had nothing else to do other than muse on his death and the things he'd never be able to do. Things he hadn't gotten to experience due to his premature death.
It was a sad existence and it made him lethargic...Well, as lethargic as a ghost could be....But this too came to an end.
    It was at the start of his 6th year of joining the afterlife when two young men began looking around the house.
At first Smith thought he was imagining things until he realized that the two men were real. From what he could gather, the two had just finished Uni and were looking for a house. Roommates, how pleasant.
One was a brunet with messy hair reminiscent of an annoying pop-star, the other was a slightly darker haired brunet who had shorter cut hair and was certainly taller than the other. Almost as tall as he had been.
Smith had considered scaring them off like he'd done before but, the idea of being left alone again wasn't ideal in any way.
So, with a sigh of annoyance, he decided to keep these two around for now.
    As luck would have it, the two found the house perfect and bought it in the end. With the moving truck came many interesting items, including some recording equipment.
After the moving truck left, the two began to unpack.
Alex had watched them quietly, listening to their conversation since he didn't have much else to do. He figured out that the shorter one's name was Chris Trott and that the taller one was Ross Hornby, he also felt a little bit of dismay when the taller one brought in more than he realized he did.
    A large Labrador dog was staring up at Smith with wide eyes. It was a ghost like him, he could faintly make out tire tracks on it's side and he knew the dog could probably see smoke rising from his "skin".
It seemed like Ross had brought an old tennis ball with him which he'd once used to play with the dog.
It became attached to it and was able to fallow it's master by linking itself to the ball.
 "Great, just what I needed..." Alex muttered under his breath. "A ghost mutt to slobber ectoplasma all over me..."
    The dog kept staring up at him with those wide eyes, before they became ever so slightly sad. The dog whined and whimpered, looking almost as if it was pleading Smith to do something.
 "What?" He raised an eyebrow at it. In life he'd never been much of a fan of dogs. They drooled everywhere and chewed up your stuff so who could judge him for not liked them?
    The dog kept whimpering, moving forward and nudging his leg ever so slightly. It slowly occurred to Smith what it wanted.
He couldn't blame it either, it had probably been a long time since anyone had petted it.
 "Fine..." He gave it a small pat, smiling just a little bit as it began to wag it's tail. "Eh, you're not so bad after all..."
    He sat down with the dog and carried on petting it, noticing a collar with a name tag on it. He read the name and carried on petting the large Labrador.
 "Guess it's you and me and those twats over there, uh Buster?"

    Trott had never been the superstitious type. He'd always believed in facts rather than fiction, his friend however tended to let himself be easily lulled into believing things of the paranormal.
Trott never really understood why Ross kept that ratty and smelly tennis ball around. There was no such thing as luck charms and even if there were, why would his friends' be an old ball that smelled like something shat it out?
Then again, he wasn't really keen on finding out.
    They'd been living at their new house for at least five weeks now and during their stay Ross had been a little uneasy.
 "I'm serious Trott, it feels like we're being watched!" He'd told him one morning while he was preparing breakfast.
 "Don't be silly, there's no one here other than us. Besides it's probably the weird heating getting to you. I really should check with someone to fix it..."
    Sometimes the heating changed abruptly in the house. That was the only flaw Trott could find. It felt warmer and a little stuffy sometimes but at least it wasn't unbearable. They could live through it!
 "That's the thing, I only feel watched when the room gets warmer...It's creepy." Ross muttered.
    He hadn't talked about it for a while now but, Trott could see he was still a bit paranoid. Sometimes he'd be clutching that stinky ball of his as well, as if it could defend him from something.
Chris just found it ridiculous to be honest.

    In the first few weeks, Alex had noticed how both of his "roommates" felt. He realized that maybe Ross was a little bit more sensitive to his presence than Trott, it gave him a little bit of hope that maybe he'd get to talk to someone but...It was all for naught. He was a ghost, a spirit. They wouldn't be able to see or hear him.
All they could feel was his heat and even then they blamed it on a faulty heating system.
It was a lonesome life, that of a ghost's...But he had Buster with him at least.
    He sat next to the dog who was laying down by the table where Ross had left the tennis ball. The two where arguing while playing video games. Trials was it?
He patted the dog, giving it a reassuring smile which soon vanished when he noticed how sad it looked.
Buster was just staring up at the tennis ball with what Smith could assume was longing in his eyes.
 "You miss playing catch uh?" He asked the dog calmly.
    Buster stared up at him with the saddest eyes Smith had ever seen. It made his "heart" ache ever so slightly.
If only he could play fetch with him...Well he might as well try.
 "Seriously Ross, you really think you can win against me by bringing that old thing over?" Trott laughed.
 "Hey don't bad mouth that ball, I have pretty good memories with it. Plus it gave me luck in every test I took so why wouldn't it give me some more to beat old Trotty in a game of Trials?" Ross bit his lip as he concentrated on the screen.
    He could almost taste victory, Trott had failed a few times so he was ahead. He just needed to get over this stupid obstacle to finish the track!
Nothing could distract him now, not even the weird tapping coming from the coffee table....Ross paused, raising an eyebrow. Weird tapping coming from the coffee table?
He looked from the corner of his eyes before freezing ever so slightly. He missed Trott finishing the track as well.
 "Beat you again! See, no stupid charm can give you enough luck to--Ross?" Trott blinked, waving a hand in front of his friend's face.
    Ross said nothing, instead he pointed at the coffee table, face becoming paler and his frame being rocked with fearful shivers.
Trott raised an eyebrow before taking a look. His mouth opened ever so slightly in an "O" shape as he saw what the other was so scared over. The tennis ball was hopping on it's own.
 "What the fuck...?" Trott muttered quietly.
    They watched the ball quietly before it suddenly stopped midair and was thrown across the room. Ross dropped his controller and let out a choked squeak.
The two were left staring as the ball went from once side of the living room, to the other. Repeatedly.
This wasn't real...It couldn't be.
 "Nice one Ross, what did you do to get that to work?" Trott asked.
 "....What are you talking about?" Ross asked, avoiding taking his eyes away from the ball.
 "This is a nice prank, I know you said you felt watched but come on you shouldn't go to so much effort to prank me just because I don't believe in superstitions..." Trott said.
 "Trott I'm not doing this!"
    The two began to argue once more, up until the ball passed by a large mirror they hadn't quite decided where to put yet.
The image of a large Labrador silenced the two as it passed by the reflective surface, holding the floating ball in it's mouth.
As soon as it left the sight of the mirror the ball carried on floating to another direction.
    Ross felt bile rise in his throat. He recognized that dog, how could he not? He'd been his friend for years.
Buster had been a Christmas present when he was still a child. He grew up with the old boy and had been devastated when he'd been run over while the two were playing fetch.
He'd kept Buster's favorite tennis ball as a way to remember him. It had always given him a lot of luck when he'd needed it.
 "T-this isn't...This c-can't..." Trott stuttered ever so slightly, even he didn't have an explanation for this now.
 "Buster..." Ross muttered under his breath before he realized something. The ball was going from one side of the room and being brought back by the ghost dog. So...Who was throwing it?
    Gathering his nerve, Ross walked over to the mirror. He let out a deep breath before turning it around, both he and Trott stared for a long time at the auburn haired male staring at the mirror surface with a look of surprise on his face, Buster sitting by his side with the ball still in his mouth.
It took the two living men three seconds before they fainted. After all, it wasn't every day that you discovered you had extra roommates in your house.
Hatfic - A Roommate in the Afterlife
Summary: Alex Smith had been dead for 5 years. In the start of his 6th year in the afterlife, he is gifted with some living company and a ghost dog.

[This story contains Ghosts! Slightly based on a story Luneybin wrote!]
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: ideologically sensitive material)
    It was common knowledge that one's worst enemy could be their own mind, with the Sirs it was no different. Their memories of past times that had gone terribly wrong, still haunted them to this day.
However, the "A" of H.A.T had one too many memories that he'd rather forget. Thousands upon thousands of sleepless nights were spent musing on such thoughts.
Tonight was just like that.
    The green man tossed and turned in bed, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep as he found that his mind kept wandering in a direction he did not want it to go.
He hadn't had a wink of sleep in 72 hours. The effects of lack of rest were beginning to show as well.
It was annoying, no, irritating! It was irritating how he couldn't quite let go even after he'd found comfort and shelter with the other two. They were his most trusted friends and almost like family now.
    He'd lived two years of solitude, being treated like some abomination, before he'd met Djh3max and Trottimus.
Now? They were like brothers. The two were annoying little pests at times and huge twats, but they were his twats and the mutual understanding and caring that they shared was enough to make up for it.
Many questioned if their relationship was amorous, Alsmiffy had to laugh at those stupid questions.
Love? Yes there was love in their relationship, platonic love. Brotherly love. They had each other's backs and weren't afraid to call bullshit on each other's most questionable actions. Nothing romantic.
    Alsmiffy felt a fuzzy warmness spread through his chest. Who ever said that all love needed to be romantic anyway?
This feeling dissipated when he began to remember those two horrid years however.
Yes...He could still recall how tormenting they had been for him. Pure torture...
He closed his eyes, visualizing how his life had been before his two friends found him.


    Nothing could describe what Alexander was feeling. He'd just lost all he'd ever known after all! His home; His family; His friends...
And the worst of all, he'd lost his humanity.
Taken away by a remorseful bitch of a gypsy who'd never liked him to begin with.
That old hag had always been on his case, glaring at him from afar and telling him off for coming in late for Church. Who was she to yell at him? She was neither his mother nor was she one of the priests!
    Ever since he was rather small, Alexander remembered the woman's hatred towards him. He'd never been quite sure why she disliked him.
Was it because he was left-handed? Many over-religious people tended to say that left-handed were the devil's spawns. Maybe that had been the case with her but, it had always seemed to run deeper than that. So much deeper...It confused him to no end until he'd learned to ignore her.
She was a back-stabbing serpent, she was. Many in the village disliked her and many more said that her fortune telling was utter crap and nothing but pure swindling.
Then again Alexander had never payed much mind to this, he'd always been worried with something else.
    His mother had always been a sickly woman. She'd had difficulty giving birth to him due to this and, after such a delicate and painful procedure, she'd grown worse.
He'd always felt guilty that his mom had to be bed-ridden simply because he existed. Alexander and his father had done everything to make her life all the more bearable.
While his father worked none-stop, little Alexander had been there to care for his sickly mother, singing her lovely little songs and telling her stories of wonder and fantasy.
She'd called him a little angel many times due to this.
    Alexander found that his heart ached as he thought of these times. His poor mother...Would she miss him? Or would she think the stories true? Stories of how he was a cold blooded murderer who'd set the church ablaze on purpose?
He hoped not. Of all the things, he wished his mother no heartbreak for a mistake.
That gypsy was to blame. Yes, she was.
She hadn't listened when he'd told her it was an accident. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, he was just trying to help with the festival!
    With a heavy heart, Alexander carried on. He was tired; Hungry and thirsty...But he could not rest just yet. He needed to go as far away as possible.
For a few moments, he wondered if maybe his house was still burning and if the zombie he'd locked in there was charred enough to fool everyone into thinking him dead?
Hopefully, he'd rather be dead to all in the village than viewed as...What ever he was!
After what seemed like hours, he finally came to a stop.
    Alexander sat down under the shade of a tree, exhausted and with feet that ached terribly. He looked down at the large clawed toes that had substitute his once delicate feet. They looked bulky and they'd been strong enough that he hadn't hurt himself even as he walked through gravel paths full of sharp rocks.
He very carefully began to massage his feet with his unnervingly larger hands.
To be perfectly honest, Alexander wasn't quite sure what his odd curse had turned him into. He certainly had never seen a monster quite like this.
He had large feet like a Creeper and he was almost as tall as an Enderman, yet he was a deep green like a zombie and he had no facial features other than eyes which were almost cat-like.
That was as much as he knew anyway, he hadn't exactly had the time to explore his new body.
    Alexander let go of his feet after a while, looking around before getting up and continuing his aimless journey.
His stomach protested and he felt slightly faint from both hunger and thirst. But how could he satisfy any of these issues if he had no mouth?
Was this what she'd wanted? For him to starve to death, maybe succumb to dehydration?
A sudden snarling noise startled him.
He looked around in panic before realizing he was the source of the sound. He'd snarled without even thinking.
Well...At least now he knew he could make some sort of noise with this misshapen body of his.
    Instigated by his hunger, the now green creature was forced to carry on his walk, hoping to find a way of sustaining himself.
He had no idea that his troubles had only just begun.

    The first weeks had been rather hard, but as soon as his isolation had hit 3 months, Alexander had began to feel the madness brewing and festering in his mind.
He longed for companionship and physical contact, he also ached for some carnal activities, some of which would probably be quite controversial to many.
In his second week as the creature he now was, he'd found the time to further explore his changed body.
He'd found that even his genitalia hadn't been spared by the curse. It now seemed quite reminiscent of female genitals yet not quite the same.
Even more startling was the need to actually put them to use. It was almost animal like and, in all sense, he was very much that wasn't he? Just some animal alone in the jungle with only his bony fingers to satisfy his sexual needs.
    These more intimate matters hadn't been the only thing he'd discovered. He'd found a way to feed and drink in a rather accidental manner. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened but one of his eyes had gone loose and in a panicked attempt to put it back into place, he'd torn the nerve instead and been left with an eye looking back at him in his palm. What had been so odd had been the lack of blood and pain.
And that was how he discovered his eyes had special nerves that healed and reattached themselves when he placed his eyes back in their socket.
Behind his eyeball were two canals that lead to his esophagus. A cleverly hidden way for him to eat without a mouth...It was also the most disturbing discovery he'd ever made and many times he'd been close to starvation by refusing to remove his eyes to feed on what little scraps of food he could find.
    Another thing he'd discovered were retractable claws and spikes he had on his fingers and back. While he knew what the claws were for he had no idea why his back needed such sharp spikes. Alexander definitely didn't want to find out.
He missed being human.
He missed his peachy complexion and his auburn hair. He didn't mind being taller but he certainly disliked how thin and twisted he looked.
Most of all, he missed socializing.
    Without a proper way to speak, he was stuck looking like some sort of terrifying beast wearing torn clothing that was slightly short on him.
His loneliness had gotten so bad he'd began talking within his mind just to keep it from being too quiet to bare.
At some point he began hearing weird voices which he then tried to drown out with his own insistent blabbering of random topics he didn't quite care about anymore.
Eventually speaking to himself wasn't enough.
    Alexander had tried everything he could think of. He hunted for proper pray; He attacked nocturnal monster hiding away at day time; He tipped some cows; He climbed trees; Heck he furiously touched himself just to flood his mind with a bit of bliss...Even then it was short lived. No matter what he did the voices came back and they were beginning to frighten him.
It got even worse when he began to make his way through slightly barren farmlands.
There were no wild animals to hunt and he did not want to risk being spotted by a farmer and his family. Even if he craved human contact so very much.
    A few days had gone by since he'd reached the farmlands and he'd found himself starving and with terrible hunger pains.
He needed to find food, yet there were no safe mushrooms to make a quick stew out of and the only animals were cattle.
If he tried to take one down he'd most definitely be heard and attacked by the owner of the animal he chose.
With so little options he'd decided to go with killing a cow. If he was quick he could kill it without it making a peep. He just needed to snap it's neck and drag it away.
    Alexander had chosen to do it at night, when the farmers would be sleeping and he'd be less visible.
He'd watched the heard all day, picking out the weakest from the strongest.
There was one old bull that would keep him full for at least five days. If he did this right he wouldn't have to worry.
Sadly luck wasn't on his side.
    The bull took notice of his presence very quickly. It bellowed and stomped and tried to run away, Alexander had chased it and the noise had been so tremendous that it surprised him the farmer hadn't showed up with a fleet.
The man's reaction was what he'd expected.
Screaming and senseless attacking. Alexander had to defend himself one way or another.
And that was when he first killed someone with his own hands.
    That same night, Alexander had snapped. The gentle man let the madness take hold and soon enough he was no longer the dear angel his mother had christened him. He was Alsmiffy, the monster.
The monster who'd eventually have a lot more blood on his hands.


    Smiffy's eyes snapped open, heart racing ever so slightly as his mind cleared of those terrible memories.
He sat up and sighed tiredly. Slumber would escape him yet another night.
It wasn't fair, he'd lost all he'd ever known because of something he hadn't intended. Now he was haunted by the memories of his misdoings and there wasn't much he could do to stop them from resurfacing.
He hated his past...Yet his present and his future...They were promising.
Djh3max and Trottimus brought out the best in him.
They'd met him at his worst and slowly beckoned him into reverting back into what he'd used to be.
Granted he would never be "Alexander Smiff" again, but at least he wasn't "Alsmiffy the Monstrous" anymore...And that he only had those two insufferable twats to thank for.
    Drowsily, he got out of bed and went to put on his clothes. Might as well spend these few hours of the night finishing a few tasks.
Tomorrow maybe he'd be able to sleep.
Hatfic - Sleep Deprived
Summary: At night is when Alsmiffy spends the most time thinking about his past. Specifically those two years he spent alone after he became a monster.

Warning: Mentions of masturbation and slight body horror (If messing with eyes can be counted as such).

[Some of you were curious about my headcanons for Smiff's origins, so here's a little snippet at what happened to him. Maybe one day I'll write a longer origin fic for the three Sirs. For now there's this.]


Call me Eps
Artist | Student | Traditional Art
Big Daddy Stamp by OokamiAkuba
Disconnected Stamp by SparklyDest
[Stamp] Gratitude by Creepiest
Work For Points "Stamp" by Nessarie
Happy late birthday to one of my favorite fandoms, the 9 fandom!
One day I'll do more with it!
  • Mood: Daily Needs

The last poll was a test. 

10 deviants said If I feel like Yogscast or Hatfilms, I'll do it on my own time.
7 deviants said Thank you to the very few who had my best interests in mind instead.
6 deviants said I do not rely on what others want, only what I feel like doing.
5 deviants said You should never demand things from others, it's stressful and hurtful.
No deviants said Expressing your outrage against me won't do you much.




Add a Comment:
moonlite39 Featured By Owner 20 hours ago   Digital Artist
Hi nice artworks :D (Big Grin) I love tham all.
Mwolf0Epsilon Featured By Owner 19 hours ago  Student Traditional Artist
Thank you!
moonlite39 Featured By Owner 4 hours ago   Digital Artist
And the YogMonsters or cute and nice :D (Big Grin) .
EmberTheDragonlord Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014   Writer
earbudkitty Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Can you do Yogmonster designs for Strife, Bebop, and KirinDave?
I mean it would be understandable if you didn't want to, but I was just thinking how we haven't had a lot of Yogmonsters content in a while, and I just want to know your interpretation of Will.
Mwolf0Epsilon Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
I really don't watch those guys so I don't know much about them.
I am also a bit busy at the moment and will continue Yogmonsters when ever I can.
earbudkitty Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Okay take your time. :3
LunaGamerImInPortal Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2014  New member Student General Artist
POR FAFOR:please: 
Kitty begging Llama Emoji-47 (Pretty Please) [V2] Llama Emoji-62 (Rawr I'll get you) [V3] 
Mwolf0Epsilon Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
1) Not into Hetalia
2) I don't write shipping/smut fics.
3) Requests are closed.
LunaGamerImInPortal Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  New member Student General Artist
okey sorry ;-;
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