Dave (it/he)

I dont post often but when I do its usually a short story ive spent days writing | art: @kintrashart | personal: @kintrashrambles

[kintrash413]

Pinned Post of my current WIPs :3 The boldened names are links showing where you can find them.

Hollowtale: A Hollow Knight/ Undertale crossover

Justified Paranoia: An Among Us sequel fanfic

To Err is Human: A DirkJohn vampire AU

Shizaya Week: A week long of prompts featuring Shizaya from... July 2023

Tumblr Exclusive: Everything I've written that won't be found on Ao3

[kintrash413]

Do you take commissions!!

not officially but like sure. msg me

[whygodohgodwhy]

Quote Prompt

“I’ve been trying to take an interest in your interests, and I know you’re interested in this guy, so I’ve been watching him for a couple days. I still don’t see what you see, but I’ve decided that you must be insane so I will also become insane.”

[kintrash413]

Julia tilted her head, binoculars held loosely. "I still really don't get why you're so obsessed with this guy." She turned to look at Jordyn, who was only barely listening to her.

Instead, Jordyn was focused entirely on Matthew, eyes narrowed as she watched him fiddle with his phone.

Julia sighed, looking back at him. He looked to be reading something. Seemed like a pretty bad reading spot, here in the middle of town. Surely the sunlight was glaring his screen.

"He's perfect," Jordyn insisted, and Julia just nodded, at a loss for what else to contribute.

She looked at Matthew again. Just... a normal guy. Not even that attractive, really. She put down the binoculars, clearly giving up. "I really don't see it," she reiterated. "Frankly, I think you're insane for seeing anything in him."

Jordyn gave Julia an offended expression, and Julia winced. This sibling bonding time idea really wasn't going so well.

"I mean... he's...?" Julia gave up and looked through the binoculars again to save herself from finishing the sentence.

So her sister was a stalker. That was fine. But did she really have to obsess over someone so uninteresting?

"It's fine if you're crazy," Julia offered. "I'll be crazy too! This guy? Great."

"He is great..."

"Yeah! So if you... need any help developing your polaroids, or breaking in or whatever... you can knock on my door, or whatever, y'know?"

Jordyn took a while to reply. Fingers tapping on her binoculars. "You'll help with that stuff?"

Julia nodded quickly. It was the first time her sister had gotten close to trusting her since Matthew came along. "Promise. We'll be insane about him together, eheh."

Jordyn thought about this a moment longer, then nodded. And Julia grinned in relief.

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

chapter seven is out ! yay,

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 5 and 6 for Shizaya week!

pretty when you cry + kiss

also I might've accidentally started writing on Chapter 4 forgetting I already finished it so here's a Tumblr exclusive: extended edition

“Izaya!” 

Shizuo slammed open the door, and it cracked against the wall behind it. 

Izaya was in here. He could already smell blood- what had that flea done?

“Izaya!” Shizuo repeated, wandering further into the room. The scent of blood was quickly overpowering, he nearly gagged on it. But he continued forth, opening another door. 

Finally, Shizuo found the source. 

An unconscious man covered in blood, one hand limply placed over the worst injury in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Shizuo approached the poor soul that'd been left victim to Izaya’s games. 

But as he knelt down to examine the man's face, his adrenaline dissipated in an instant. 

“Izaya?” 

Izaya blinked tiredly up at Shizuo. Blood streaked down his face. Somehow, the smell of blood smelled worse now that Shizuo knew it was Izaya's.

Izaya's face split into a cocky smile. “Here to finish me off?”

Shizuo growled. “What the hell did you do?” Somehow, he still fell into his instinct to blame Izaya.

Izaya laughed. It turned into a cough. It splattered blood onto his lips. “You should've seen the other guy,” he said, still grinning even though his voice was weak. He coughed again, which finally wiped that smile off his face.

It wasn't as satisfying as it should've been.

“Is this… all your blood?” Shizuo looked around the room in horror.

“You wish,” Izaya laughed, strained. He held out his arm. “Help me up.” 

The offer was laughable. 

Shizuo kicked him in the side. A light tap with his toe, really. Izaya used his arm to keep himself from falling to the floor, but he still stumbled. 

Shizuo helped him up. Izaya's sweater against his skin was scratchy and damp and gross. It made Shizuo’s skin crawl. Maybe that was the knowledge that it was soaked with Izaya's blood.

“Thattaboy,” Izaya purred, and Shizuo had to resist the urge to drop him on the spot. Izaya panted when Shizaya held him too tight. 

“My office is only two stories up,” Izaya announced with a cheerfulness ill-befitting of a man covered in his own blood. “Help me up- eek!”

Izaya squeaked when Shizuo hoisted him up in his arms, like a bride. Then Izaya laughed.

Shizuo ignored it, and ran up the stairs.

“Ough, don't run… You're making me bleed out faster, protozoan.” <>

With Izaya ignored, they arrived at Izaya’s apartment in 30 seconds flat. Shizuo knocked the door down.

“It was unlocked…”

“Where's your medkit?” Shizuo demanded. 

“...Bathroom. Upstairs.” 

More climbing. Shizuo dropped Izaya on the counter, ignoring how he writhed in pain in favour of pulling on cabinets in search of the med kit.

“That's bad luck, y'know,” Izaya panted, leaning back against the mirror as Shizuo cracked a smaller mirror when he threw open a medicine cabinet.

“Having you around is bad luck enough.”

“Playground insults… No you're bad luck!” Izaya coughed. 

Shizuo found the med kit and cracked it open. “Where are you injured? You know what- here.” Shizuo shoved the med kit into Izaya's arms. He didn't trust his ability not to crack his ribs and an attempt to heal.

Izaya hummed, delicately throwing away the broken pieces of plastic like he had all the time in the world before tearing open a <medical wipe>. “At risk of you changing your mind and killing me,” Izaya commented. “I couldn't help but notice that you're helping me instead of finishing you off.”

“If you die it's gonna be by my hand! I'm not gonna finish you off from someone else's work!”

“Is that the current excuse?”

“Shut up before I change my mind!”

Izaya hummed. He raised his shirt, revealing a grazing gunshot wound that he wiped the blood from before getting to work bandaging it. 

Shizuo didn't like the sight of it. Didn't appreciate the reminder that Izaya was human. 

“It's rude to stare, Shizu-chan.”

“Ugh...” Shizuo looked up at the ceiling, and his ears burned when Izaya laughed. Maybe once Izaya finished bandaging himself up he could kill him. Or did he want to wait till Izaya was healed? That'd take forever.

“Why are you still here?”

“Why did you get into a shoot-out in your apartment?”

“I get into shoot-outs in lots of places. My apartment isn't sacred.”

“...”

“I'm not still at risk, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Ugh.”

“No one else will take your kill.” 

“Forget it!” Against his better judgment, Shizuo stormed out of the bathroom. He slammed the door shut with enough force that he hoped he cracked the wall. Izaya's dismayed cry was a good sign.

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Here in the zombie apocalypse, no one bothered to get sober. “No one” being the last two humans alive- Evbo and his neighbor. There was no point taking the risk of withdrawing while dealing with zombies when growing netherwart was so easy. Excerpt under the cut

Evbo leaned outside the second story window, the only place where he could see the sky. As usual, there were no helicopters, no nothing coming to save them. After five years, he was pretty sure he and his neighbor were the last people left.

Once Evbo heard the groaning of zombies beneath who must have spotted him, he ducked his head back inside and shut the window. There was no way they'd get through the barriers for at least another week, so the risk felt okay.

“Yo?” Evbo called, walking through the building in search of his neighbor. “Is dinner ready?” When he arrived at the kitchen, he found it empty. Not only was dinner not ready, it wasn't even started. Evbo picked up a syringe off the counter automatically, only stopped when he realized it was his neighbor's. Then why was it still full?

“H-hey? Man?” Evbo called out, getting nervous now. He gently tilted the syringe, and he could see air bubbles through the nearly clear liquid. It wasn't even filled properly…

Putting the syringe down, Evbo kept wandering. He hadn't been close to his neighbor, before the apocalypse began. But after five years of surviving together…

Evbo opened the doorway to the makeshift bedroom, where he finally found his neighbor taking a damn nap.

“What the hell,” Evbo chastised lightly, kneeling to wake him up. He didn't get another word out- he put his hand on his neighbor's arm to shake him awake, and found his skin cold.

Evbo stumbled back with such desperation that he fell on his ass as his heart beat out of his chest. After several seconds passed without his neighbor rising with intent to kill, Evbo relaxed slightly. He hadn't been bitten. He just…

Slowly, Evbo moved forward again. Shifted his neighbor onto his back. Indeed, his eyes were still open. Glassy and dull. He was generally damp- sweaty teary and snotty. Evbo stood up with a sigh. He recognized withdrawal when he saw it. “Damn it… Why did you try to get sober? Now?? Without telling me…”

Considering his neighbor just died from withdrawal, Evbo wasn't about to make the same mistake. He backtracked to the kitchen, grabbing his neighbor's syringe and injected himself with the awkward potion. It was a familiar high.

On one hand, Evbo could understand his neighbor's decision- being sober would probably be hugely helpful during the apocalypse. If the edges of his vision didn't blur, if his sense of danger wasn't broken. Evbo couldn't even remember crucial information like the populated zombie locations, most the time.

He dropped the empty needle onto the counter. The apocalypse wasn't the time to be getting sober. He had his chance, and it was before the first sirens went off.

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I have finally finished chapter 3 and 4 of this 2023 challenge

Monster but affectionate + Blood

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Many children, all adorned in colourful cloaks, compete every year to feed The Grandmother. The forest she resides in requires sacrifices, but Red prays for the impossibility of multiple winners anyway. First chapter under the cut!

Red cast her gaze forward, eyes scanning the forest before her. Soon, she and Blue would penetrate its walls of oak, and leave an offering for the fabled witch within.

She turned to face her friend Blue now, but instead came face to face with Lime, who had one hand on her hip and the other pulling boredly at her lime coloured cloak.

“This ceremony is such a waste of time and resources,” the girl chastised. “Are you really going in there, Red?”

Red only nodded, and Lime huffed.

“You’re all gonna get yourselves killed y'know. Then who will I sit with at lunch?”

“We will not!” This time it was Blue who spoke- face red with anger at Lime’s words. “I’m gonna go through those woods, give Grandmother my offering-” he gestured to the basket he currently held, “-and return alive.”

Before Lime could give another snarky comment, she was interrupted by a large lime-clad hand resting on her head.

“Come now, child,” the woman said kindly. Red recognized her as the mayor of the town, and mother to Lime. “If you're not participating, you must get going now.” Toward the end of her sentence, the mayor raised her voice until it was heard by the entire clearing.

There was a flurry of colours as children and adults alike moved out of the way. Soon, the only ones left in the clearing were young children with baskets in their hands and determination in their eyes.

Red remembered seeing this ceremony when she was even smaller- she had even known one of the children competing. There were significantly less this year, she noted.

There was her and her best friend Blue, who stood at her side and clutched tightly his basket. He talked a lot of talk, but the whole village knew he was a coward at heart. For that reason he competed- to prove everyone wrong, to commit his grandest act of victory.

Red also recognized Cyan, though knew very little about them. They didn’t talk much, and sat alone during lunch.

Pink was a bit older than them, but he’d gotten horribly sick last year, and so was allowed to compete late. She'd seen him around school, part of the student committee that tried to convince young students like her to join clubs.

And then of course… there was Orange. Red's heart skipped a beat when she saw her, and she quickly turned away.

“Ready?” Blue asked, taking Red's hand and squeezing it.

Red nodded as the mayor shouted out- “begin!”

Red was running before she even knew what was happening, Blue pulling her along in huffs of breath as they smacked past thorn-coated branches.

Red's hood fell from her face, but Red couldn’t stop to fix it. Grandmother was far, and the wood was dangerous at night.

They ran and ran and ran, with nothing but a lullaby to guide the way. Red sang a single, wordless note, again and again until her lungs gave out but no eerily beautiful voice returned the call.

Small feet skittered to a stop as they reached a river, water flowing rapidly, white foamy bubbles brewing onto the rocky shore and toward the waterfall surely just out of sight.

The two shared a knowing look. They had prepared for this, and they knew both of them couldn’t survive. “Are you ready?” Blue asked, and despite all of her training, all of her prepping, Red's heart sank.

Blue had the best chance of surviving. He would be the one to make it to the other side alive. But she hadn’t thought her death would come so soon in their journey.

Red's throat closed with the threat of tears, and she was unable to do any more than nod her head in agreement. Without a word needing to be spoken, she threw her basket to the other side of the river. It landed with a small bounce, the cloth wrapped around it keeping the contents from spilling. Blue did the same shortly thereafter.

They worked swiftly and efficiently after that. Red stepped into the water first, having to dig her feet past the pebbles in order to avoid being swept away immediately.

Once she was steady, she stepped forward. slowly, one foot at a time, digging into the rocks in order to keep her balance with every step. Red waded deeper into the water, until it was splashing up her neck. she felt wobbly, it was a struggle to keep the current from having its way with her. The rocks keeping her in place were fragile, being knocked aside by the current.

“Are you ready?” Blue asked, and didn’t wait for a reply. He jumped, and Red caught him- a perfect, practiced maneuver that held him steady above the current. His weight shoved her deeper beneath the earth, and she was thankful for the extra leverage.

Blue squirmed in her arms until he was sitting on her shoulders, hands gripping tightly at her hood. “Go,” he ordered, perhaps his last word to her.

Ignoring the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, Red continued forward. She was afforded a single, raspy breath before the waves were above her head.

The current was overwhelming now. Blues weight wiggled on her shoulders, the only thing keeping her from getting washed away. She continued down, further down as her lungs began to burn. The river never seemed to end, the middle surely miles away. She continued further, and only ended up deeper and deeper. A sharp pull at her hood told her that even Blue was having trouble staying above the water line.

Red grabbed his thighs, tight as she could manage with her waning strength and dimming vision. She wobbled, once, a foot not perfectly placed, not dug quite deep enough as the packed earth stopped her. That was enough.

The current grabbed her at once.

Her foothold disappeared as did the weight above her- she was floating, directionless, being pulled toward the roaring in the distance.

Red knew what she was supposed to do- she had to accept her fate, had to pray Blue made it to the other side alive. They couldn’t both survive the river, she knew the curse. She knew it required a sacrifice.

The current threw her over the waves, and for a brief, single moment, her head was above the water, air filling her lungs- the feeling was better than drowning, better than dying, and she knew she had to survive. She knew it as the waves threw her right back down, she had to survive to breathe again.

Red opened her eyes to a squint, she spotted a blue cloak for a moment before it was gone. The water was getting faster.

She was running out of time. Sharp rocks loomed threateningly below her, but getting higher- or was she sinking? Either way, this was her chance.

Gathering up her strength, she kicked off the rocks. she felt a sharp pain as one pierced her shoe, but she was off. She bounded towards the surface, getting a single glance, one great gasp of oxygen, pure and delicious.

The single glance was all she needed. she kicked again, ignoring the pain the action brought, and this time was hurdled straight towards a low-hanging branch.

Red grabbed onto it with everything she had, wasting no time as she pulled herself up above the waves, gasping.

The branch creaked dangerously below her, unfortunately there was no time to rejoice.

Moving carefully but quickly, she dragged herself forward, pulling on the branch and wincing every time it creaked. She was so close, the other side was within reach-

Crack. Red went hurdling once more, oversized branch in her hand. without thinking, she shoved it down, piercing the earth with its end. it still swayed with the current, going to break any minute, but one minute was all she needed.

Red kicked off the branch, feeling it break under the action, and threw herself onto the bay.

She landed with a painful thud, knees being lapped at by the river, but the rest of her free from its grasp. She lay, just breathing, feeling dizzy with relief and guilt for several minutes before finally standing.

Her leg lit up with pain at the action, and she quickly took to a limping stance to accommodate it. She was soaked from head to toe, her leg hurt, and her cloak weighed down heavy on her shoulders. but she was alive, breathing the air she treasured with every breath, and for that she couldn’t be more thankful.

Red looked over the river, churning almost peacefully to the waterfall now in sight. her stomach dropped at the sight of it, it had to be nearly a hundred feet tall. Was Blue down there?

Red could only hope the curse was nothing more than a rumour as she turned around, limping back upstream in search of her basket.

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 6 is out! Yippee!!

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

chapter five is out <3

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I finally finished it!!! my Undertale Yellow Underfell fic that ive been working on basically since the game came out <3 The fic is completely done, so you could read it all right now. excerpt from chapter 1 under the cut!

Clover opened their eyes slowly. The light above was far away and bright, and their entire body was sore. They sat up slowly, and in a sudden moment of clarity, their hand flew to their head.

It was still there. Their brand new hat, that they got just yesterday. Further inventory checks revealed they still had the missing poster in their pocket, and the stolen gun by their hip.

They let out a breath of relief that they hadn't lost anything, before finally taking in their surroundings.

Clover was sitting in a soft pile of yellow flowers, and beyond them was a small cave. Never the fan of small spaces, Clover got up and started walking down the narrow tunnel.

The tunnel opened up quickly, thankfully. They wandered forward slowly, their footsteps echoing against the walls. …No, that wasn't an echo.

Clover reached for their pistol, but before they could properly get it in their hands, a monster had already emerged from the other side of the cave.

She looked almost… no, they had to be imagining things. Either way, her presence had a way of calming them down.

She introduced herself as Toriel, and looked almost as surprised as Clover was.

“You must've taken quite a fall,” she offered empathetically, walking towards them slowly as if approaching a wild animal. Well, their hand was still on their gun. “You poor child…” Once the distance was closed, she suddenly enveloped Clover in a hug.

They froze, caught off guard. It was unfamiliar, and yet, they felt like they'd been hugged like this dozens of times before. They felt like crying by the time Toriel pulled away.

“Come with me,” she offered, thankfully taking Clover's hand in hers. “Let me show you around the Ruins.”

She led the way out of the cave, and the next room opened up much further, finally shining light onto the purple concrete and red flowers that they walked around, favoring the grand stairs at either side of it.

They took the left staircase.

Toriel led the way through a couple puzzles- they all seemed relatively simple, up until the lever that Toriel told Clover to click refused to work.

“You must've done it wrong,” Toriel suggested, so they tried a couple more times to the same non-result. “No no no,” she said finally, patience wearing thin, “That's the wrong one.”

Had they clicked the wrong one? Without thinking too hard on it, Clover moved to the other lever and pulled.

The floor disappeared under their feet, and suddenly again, they were falling-

Their head throbbed, Toriel was saying something but it was difficult to hear her over the heartbeat in their ears.

Slowly, so very slowly, Clover sat up, just in time to watch the poster slip down the cliff. They tried to chase after it, but the sudden movement made the pain in their head flair up, forcing them back down.

The poster was far out of sight by the time Clover finally made it to their feet. It was darker down here, especially as they wandered further away from the crack in the floor- ceiling?

As they walked through the darkened Ruins, suddenly, a flower popped up. Not only that, but a flower with a rather concerned face.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Too confused to do much of anything else, Clover only nodded.

“You look like you took quite a tumble! Don't worry, let me heal you.”

And suddenly, a soft warmth washed over them. Once it disappeared, they were left slightly colder, but the pounding in their head was gone. They stood up a little straighter.

“I'm Flowey!” The flower explained further. “If… I can help you, by healing you. And getting you out of-” he gestured to the surrounding area with his leafs, “Here.”

Clover hesitated.

This flower certainly had to be a monster. But… of the two monsters they'd met thus far, both had offered to help them. Perhaps they were wrong to think them cruel? The idea was too heavy to think too much on now. Instead, they nodded again.

“You don't talk much, do you?” Flowey asked with a tilt of his head- petals? Several of which were torn. “What's your name?”

“Clover.”

“Well, Clover, let's get started! Just bring me with you, and I'll lead the way.”

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 4 of my DirkJohn vampire fic is out! Finally! Hopefully the next chapter wont take as long-

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Dalv is very preoccupied starving without any access to blood. The last thing he needs is a visitor

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I got so annoyed that there wasn't any special dialogue in genocide despite buying his entire stock that I wrote this :p entire fic under the cut

Mo watched carefully as Clover put their gun away.

“...Okay,” he breathed a sigh of relief. For a second there, it almost looked like Clover was going to rob him.

Mo brushed off his suit, trying to get himself back in the business mindset after having a gun pointed at him. It wasn't easy.

“I knew you wouldn't want to say no to these deals,” Mo insisted as Clover fixed them with the same dead stare. “You've bought me out every time!” He snapped his fingers, and his stall expertly slid across the floor until it settled in front of him.

“Bam! I got-”

They both watched as his booth burst into flames, then crumpled into ash on the floor.

Mo stared down at the ash in mild disappointment for a few moments before remembering he was still in the room with a genocidal customer. He looked up faster than he meant to, but Clover hadn't moved.

“...I still got plenty of inventory! Take a look.”

Here, Clover finally stepped forward, but they didn't cross the pile of ash, and only did so to buy his products. His entire stock, once again.

Transaction completed, they started to leave.

…Mo might grow to regret this.

“Hey,” Mo called, uncertain, and Clover stopped. “Even though you, allegedly, have a few homicide cases… you've really helped me out here.” He winked at the kid. “Always knew I could count on my star customer!”

When Clover turned around, Mo could actually see their eyes beneath the shadow of their hat. They smiled at him before walking off.

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: Starlo invites Dalv to go to watch the sunrise for the first time. What could go wrong? Excerpt under the cut

Dalv wasn't sure why he hadn't gone to the surface yet.

The surface had opened nearly a month ago now, and still he hesitated.

It was getting rarer and rarer to run into anyone, and when he did they were usually packing up the last of their belongings.

They said the surface was nice. Dalv had no reason not to believe them.

But… Snowdin was nice. Dalv had been there for less than two years at this point. And now he was moving again?

…No, no that wasn't quite it.

…He really didn't know why he wasn't moved out yet. All of his neighbors were. All of his friends were, though he still hesitates to call anyone that. So why?

Dalv was drawing at his desk when he was greeted by the most unexpected sound. A knock at his door.

He stared at the door for another moment, half-ready to believe he'd been hallucinating, but then there was another knock.

Slowly, Dalv stood up and opened the door, uncertain what to expect.

“Howdy, Dalv!”

It took Dalv a few moments to remember the name.

“Hello, Starlo…”

Starlo grinned at him. They'd only interacted a couple of times and from what little Dalv knew, he should've been one of the first to go to the surface. So why…?

“What are you… doing here?” Dalv asked, and winced upon realizing how awful that sounded.

Not that Starlo seemed to notice. “I was checking up on all my friends are realized you hadn't moved up yet! Why's that? You need help?”

Were they friends? That was nice to hear, at least.

Dalv glanced away, at the dark cabin he still called home. “I... think I'm staying underground,” he admitted. Staying for now? Staying forever? He wasn't sure.

But some instinctual fear seemed to keep him comfortably underground. …Or maybe that was anxiety.

Starlo deflated slightly, his smile faltering. “I see.”

[kintrash413]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary: A very helpful step-by-step guide on how to build Decked Out 2, written by Tango himself! Full fic under the cut.

Step 1: Have several years of experience.

You don't need to understand redstone, but you do need the experience. You don't need to know how the base components work, only that they do. With enough time, you can trial and error your way through anything.

Step 2: Cut yourself off from your friends and stop attending events.

This is going to take a while, you need to accept that before you even start. Your friends will understand at first, just keep telling yourself that it'll be worth it in the end. Eventually your friends will grow worried that you're not eating or sleeping and ask you to take a break. The best time to take a break is never. Consider that step 2.5.

Step 3: Realize you're always hungry.

At first you'll think your friends are right, that feeling is normal. You might even indulge in a short vacation and redownload that app on your communicator reminding you when to eat. But eating won't satiate your hunger, and eventually you'll realize it grows worse the longer you spend away from Decked Out 2. Remember step 2.5.

Step 4: Efficiency isn't nearly as important as just getting it done at all.

There will always be the temptation to make things more efficient, more compact. If you indulge that temptation you'll never finish your work, and you're already missing your friends.

Step 5: Those thoughts aren't your own. This hunger isn't your own.

You keep staring at your friends and wondering what they'll look like as they're overwhelmed by their own panic. You want to see the fear in their eyes as you kill them. You wonder what their blood tastes like.

(This isn't really a step… repeating the points of step 3? Cut out.)

Step 5: Fear you might've created something alive.

The redstone keeps shifting without your intervention, and the very walls breathe as you pass by. You certainly didn't mean to create life, maybe you should've studied redstone better back in step one. What will happen when the season ends? Can it feel pain? Does it cry out when you break it? You should really be more concerned about yourself.

Step 6: Kill your darlings.

Don't be afraid to tear out old redstone that isn't working! The time lost is painful, but the better systems make you stronger.

Step 7: Turn off your communicator.

Your friends are calling you constantly. They're worried for you, and they're worried about the way you look at them. It's important to minimize distractions while you're working.

Step 8: You can't tell the difference between Decked Out 2 and yourself. Your heart beats with every redstone pulse (you're always on the verge of a panic attack). You can feel the bugs in your code like an itch, and you're always itching. The blue in your fingers from building the first floor isn't going away. Look into a mirror and realize you don't recognize your reflection.

Step 9: Invite your friends to enjoy your work!

Willing victims crowd the front door and you couldn't be happier (so why don't you feel free?)!

[kintrash413]

Hi @beetaur ! I was your secret Santa this year for @eah-exchange :D hope you enjoy !

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works