I have spent these past few months carefully planning and revamping version of Poppet that you see now. I have had the distinct pleasure of working alongside the ARTIST @junkii5 who brought my vision to life on Poppet's existence!
You may have encountered those fleeting words of Poppet beforeβperhaps in the headcanons where they help navigate the temperaments of the other performers or explain the unsettling nature of the grotesques that haunt these grounds.
However words are such flimsy things, aren't they?
Again, I figured it was far past time to finally show you exactly what they look like and you know exactly who is pulling the strings~
So, in the older headcanons for Poppet are no longer true; she has undergone a total redesign, and her true origins remain a mystery. While a deeper dive into her nature may come in time, it is clear that Poppet stands apart from the rest of theΒ The Freak CircusΒ troupe.
Jester and Harlequin might mockingly refer to as a "Fool" or a "Sock Puppet," yet one who holds far more authority than they would ever admit.
Stitched together by the Doctorβs hands, Poppetβs existence is a reluctant debt owed to the Jester and the Ticket Taker.
Assigned to the Iris Tent by the Ticket Taker, she acts as the circusβs broker, deceptive of all trades.
Poppetβs role is to lure, wrapped in the aesthetic to visitors. She offers readings of the past, present, and future, drawing visitors in with tarot, charms, and palmistry that feel unnervingly accurate.
When she offers a guest a choiceβone card or threeβshe is not merely performing a trick. She is navigating the threads of their fate.
A single-card draw allows her to grant a powder wish, but her power is transactional and inherently parasitic; there is always a "catch" hidden in the fine print of the reality she manipulates. Despite her outward charm, she is a vessel of the void. Her stitching holds back an abyss that hungers for more than just coins or curiosity.
She invites you into her tent with a welcoming smile, but be warned: there is a reason she keeps her clawed fingers tucked away.
Above all else,Β do not shake her hand.Β
Should you make that contact, you might find that you are no longer the one deciding where your shadow goes.
Hi i saw your latest post and can I ask why you dont write for tkatb anymore? Of course, you dont need to answer if youre uncomfortableπ
it's fine, thatβs totally okay to ask π€
i stopped writing for tkatb because i genuinely lost interest.
when i first found it, it (crowe β geo) caught my attention and i enjoyed it at the time, but creatively it doesnβt give me the psychological horror fuel i need. iβm drawn to tension, dread, mental strain, eerie atmosphere, AND most important, layered characters.
and tkatb started ONLY has a standard vn built.
a lot of vns, especially yandere-centered ones, lean on the same βtoken hot unstable characterβ formula for people to obsess over, but without much plot or real psychological substance. without that deeper psychological weight iβm drawn to, it just stopped holding my interest after about a year.
for my own creative health, i need stories with real mental tension, atmosphere, and narrative depth.
games like datc (a date the cemetery) and tfc (the freak circus) hold my attention because the horror lives in the charactersβ minds, emotions, and lore. the psychology is heavier, the atmosphere is stronger, and thereβs more beneath the surface.
thatβs where my creativity thrives.
even games that arenβt full psychological horror can still interest me if the concept/worldbuilding are solid. something likeΒ killer chatΒ orΒ adwdΒ (a date with date) works because the premise gives me material to explore.
tkatb, to me, leans more on attractive characters than real psychological or narrative depth. while i enjoyed it once and still like playing games with βhot mediocre characters,β i donβt want my writing to revolve around that alone.
adding on, most of the harassment and pressure iβve dealt with has come from the tkatb fandom, which made it feel more stressful than creative. the space also trends younger, and iβm not interested in interacting with minors. i want to focus on writing thatβs clearly for adult audiences, for fun and creative freedom.
so for now, iβm sticking to the fandoms that genuinely inspire me instead of trying to please everyone.
my creativity runs on curiosity, not pressure.
closing note: there will be some additions to this blog, as iβll be adding one or maybe two inkylists (masterlists) to avoid this issue again for only writing for one fandom at a time.
The scene is a quiet, well-lit study. Late afternoon light slants across a sturdy desk, painting golden stripes over stacks of neurology and psychology textbooks, a forest of colorful sticky notes, and a single, elegant laptop perched on its stand.
Yaya sits curled in a large, comfortable chair, her legs tucked beneath her. A pair of sleek, dark purple cat eyed framed glasses rest on her nose. Sheβs not in her wedding finery, but in soft, stylish yoga loungewea. She faces the cameraβor rather, she faces you. A gentle, knowing smile plays on her lips.
This isn't a scene from a story.Β
This is a direct address. A MAJOR blog update.Β
βSpeaking through my creatorβthe real-life Yaya, whoβs basically kinda me, but weβre doing the third-person thing for the bitβif you havenβt caught on by now, you probably never will. Iβm just built like that,β she adds with a playful, knowing shrug.
ββ¦what theΒ REAL Yaya just posted below is LIKELY the last time Iβll be writing or reviewing the TKATB men, or in general. At least for now.β
Yaya folds her hands on the desk, calm and resolved. βIβve seen the inboxβwell her inbox, I know the asks are still coming, and I get it. I really do. Butβ¦ honestly we kinda over it.β Thereβs no bitterness in her voiceβjust honesty.
βItβs not that WE donβt love TKATB. Those characters live in the REAL Yaya head, dailyβshe lowkey hates it. They were pieces of myself I got to explore and adore. But Iβve said what I needed to say. She and I feels story with them feels completed.β
She pauses, fond but peaceful.
"Think of it like finishing a really good book. You treasure it, you keep it closeβbut you donβt reread the last chapter forever. You close it, sit with the feeling, and move on.β A small, grateful smile follows.
βWe are glad we got to share that story with you. Truly.β
Her tone softens. βThis fandom was her first leap. Writing used to live in her notes app on her phone/laptop/tabletβyes this woman writes on every Apple device she ownsβlocked away. Sharing it here became something joyfulβsometimes chaotic, sometimes obsessive, but meaningful. And for that, Iβm grateful. To the real Yaya who created me, and to everyone who read, reblogged, and caredβyou made this space feel like home.β
She glances off-screen, and her smile transforms into something unbearably fond, a little private.Β
In the sliver of frame just behind her, you can see him.
Geo.
Heβs seated on the bed, bathed in the same late afternoon light. His purple hair is pulled up into a surprisingly neat, low bun at the nape of his neck. A pair of sleek, red-framed glasses youβve never seen before are perched on his nose, and heβs scowling down at a tablet, one leg crossed over the other.Β
The very picture of concentrated, academic irritation.
A low, familiar, and thoroughly grumpy mutter drifts into the space between them: βWho assigns a literature review and a fucking project in the same week alreadyβ¦ spring semester is a conspiracyβ¦β
Yaya doesnβt reply aloud.
She just watches him for a second longer, the love in her gaze so palpable it seems to fill the quiet room, before turning her attention back to you, the public smile settling back into placeβthough now it holds the ghost of that private joy.
βAnd Geoβ¦ hates this part, shock heβs letting me do this,β she whispers, rolling her eyes playfully. βThe whole sentimental, fourth-wall meta-commentary. But I believe every good story deserves a proper farewell. Consider this ours.β She settles back, her expression turning thoughtful, businesslike.
βSo. The inevitable question: whatβs next for this blog?β
βWell, of course, the writing wonβt stop. But the focus will definitely shift. Our heart has always been tethered to psychological depthβto the warmth hidden in the creepy, and the creepiness lurking within the warm. Youβll likely find herβespecially me featuring in creepypasta/marble hornets universes, and actual horror visual novels/other worlds that scratch that itch, or wandering intoβ¦" Yaya somewhat pauses before leaning into the camera, a bit closer.
"β¦.Spoilers *whispers*β¦ so that means you all finally get hear more of Inkyette (TFC OC) and officially hear fromβ¦ Inksilk (Creepypasta)β¦ which good luck with that sheβsβ¦ eerie and hella creepyβ¦ but nice?β
Then Yaya backs up, returning to a normal voice, βAs we want to dissect the stories that fascinate and unsettle, to find the human pulse in the haunting.β
A wry, knowing smile curves her mouth.
βNow will Iβthe OCβever love another character the way I love Geo? Even Iβm in a different universe? Honestly? No. Did youΒ notΒ read the latest TKATB men headcanons? IβmΒ MARRIEDΒ now.β She casually lifts her hand.
Yes, thatβs a ring. Yes, itβs permanent.
Yes, she isΒ thoroughly spoiled.
βThe real Yaya made sure of that. No matter what universe I am in, or what she puts me through, Geo is the benchmark nowβthe fictional ideal. Unfortunately (and hilariously), this has leaked straight into her real-life standards for men. It's like if she can actually get merch of Geo, she wouldβand that's saying a lot because she is very particular when she spends her money on...β A playful pause, then adding. βHeβs also extremely proud of himself.β
"No I'm not!" Geo suddenly yells, earning a side eye from Yaya.
βSoooβ¦ Just know the writing we just come in burstsβbetween exams, research, mcat prep, the whole medical-school pipeline chaos. Silence doesnβt mean gone. It means focused.β
She pauses, gentle but firm.
βAlso if youβre worried about burnoutβdonβt be. The REAL yaya always has a plan. color-coded. over-prepared. borderline militaristic. Breaks included.β a softer smile follows.
βWeβll still be here. thisβloving characters, dissecting motivation, understanding mindsβis part of the path. She want to be a psychiatrist In the future. These fics? Theyβre practiceβhelps with studying too. Learning fictional hearts So She and I can better understand real ones.β
She reaches off-screen. Thereβs a quiet moment, a slight tug-of-war, and then her hand reappears, firmly interlaced with another. A familiar, low grumble is heard, followed by a resigned sigh as he allows himself to be pulled into frame.
Geoβs hand stays in hers, a warm, solid anchor.
He doesnβt look at the camera, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of exasperation and utter devotion.
βYouβve been talking for like nine minutes,β He states, his voice dry. βYou need to complete research for tomorrow night. You also need to finish your physics post-lab, pay for the remaining textbook access codes, and start your OChem homework and pre lab, which youβve been strategically ignoring.β
Yaya lets out a long, dramatic sigh, tilting her head back to look up at him where he now stands beside her chair.Β
βYouβre such a nag, oh my god...β
He adjusts his red glasses, a faint smirk touching his lips. βArenβt you married to me?β he says, the words blunt but his eyes soft. βMy job description literally includes this. Iβm going to support you. Which means Iβm going to annoy you into being great. Now close theβ¦ whatever this is, and do your work.β
Yaya looks back at the camera, her eyes shining now with a different kind of tearsβones of overwhelmed, supported love. She squeezes his hand.
βSee?β she says to you, her voice thick with fondness. βMy βhappily ever afterβ comes with a built-in, very grumpy life coach.β She gives one last, small, graceful nod to youβa friend signing off, not with an end, but with a βsee you later.β
βThank you,β she says again, simple and profound. βFor everything. For TKATB, for this fandom, for all of it. Honestly, canβt wait to see what the next update for that game brings for everyone.β
βBe kind to each other,β she whispers. βAnd donβt be a stranger.β
She turns her head fully toward Geo, her expression softening into something purely, privately radiant. βOkay, okay. Iβm closing it. You can stop hovering now.β
βGood,β he mutters, but he doesnβt move away. Instead, he leans down. In one quick, tender motion, he presses a firm, brief kiss to her cheek, right where her dimple forms when she smiles for real. Itβs a kiss that saysβ
Iβm proud of you, and now get to work, all at once.
He straightens up, a faint, satisfied pink coloring his own ears, and stays thereβa steady, warm presence at her shoulder as she reaches for the laptop with a softly flustered, a happy smile.
okay... is she gone? oh, geo has her? great...
heyyyy! This now the REAL Yayaβand how nicely my OC tries to say things, BUT iβll say the harsh truth, no matter what, thatβs the end of the TKATB era for me.
lookβfrom me writing that cute little bit with my OC and and her now married husband at the top.
honestly, iβve tried sooo many opportunities before to stop writing for TKATB, but the asks kept coming so i couldn't find myself to stop, like iβve poured everything i haveβevery last brain cellβinto these stories, these headcanons, those long-ass weddings for each of the five extremely attractive TKATB men.
my heart is full. my creative well for them is not just dry, itβs got a little βout of Serviceβ sign hanging over it.
letβs be real: i donβt wanna be over here slaving away, trying to squeeze out feels for something Iβm clearly fresh out of passion for right now. thatβs not fair to them, and itβs definitely not fun for me.
so i'm dead serious about this:
PLEASE. Request. Something. ELSE.
i'm puttingΒ every single TKATB tagΒ on this post,Β everything. iβm tagging the TFC too, and any other relevant fandoms i can think of, so they know itβs their time to shine; the creators over there are active too, they're feeding their audienceβno hate to Fantasia, but i canβt work with bare-bones crumbs anymore.
and i hate to write OOC (out of character) stuff.
my whole thing is accuracy, getting inside a characterβs head and making it feel real, and iβve run out of material to work with here.
like writing is my air. but right now, iβm suffocating in this one very specific, very frilly-aired fandom. i need to open a window to somewhereΒ creepy, orΒ weird, or justβ¦Β new.
dead ass, the next thing i post WILL be creepypasta related.
Iihereby pass my βTKATBβ crown (itβs a very sparkly crown) to the incredibly talented @anginophobia. Go read their work. Itβs amazing. Theyβve got this.
so hereβs your open invitation.
my ask box is now a blank slate.
well, except for all the beautiful comments that you will left meβbelieve me I often re-read them if I'm having a bad day.
got a fandom you love? iβm into:
Creepypasta (the old, weird, OC-based kind. Letβs get uncomfortable.)
other Visual Novels β The Feak Circus? A Date at the Cemetery? A Date with Death? Error 143? (I haven't finished Killer Chat yet, but Iβm getting thereβ¦ and yes, V gives me vibes like Geo, donβt @ me.)
Throw me a horror-romance prompt where the romance is with the thing in the attic.
A mystery where the ghost is the detective.
Something completely off the wall.
the next thing i post will not involve cat ears, or starry-eyed proposals. It might involve whispered threats, eerie ambiance, psychological stuff or the kind of love that makes you check your locks twice.
Itβs time to move on.
if you have more questions, sure, ask away below. But if the question is βmore TKATB?β, the answer is a grateful, fond, but VERY firm βNo, babes. Weβre done.β again, thank you, from the absolute bottom of my heart, for loving them with me.
it was a beautiful, chaotic, and deeply personal ride!
okay? you got it? good! now, if youβll excuse meβi need to go cook dinner, half-watch an anime iβm three episodes behind onβgachikuta, jjk, etc, and do my homework/research at the same time.
ahhhh⦠the glamorous life of a university student.
