#bbu post

Update: WTF IS THAT?????

You had chosen the Guillotine.

The wooden stage, conjured from thin air, beckoned you like the Reaper themself were holding out their hand for you to take. A talon pressed at your back, the sharpness of the claws contrasting with the odd soft-stickiness of the feathers, as you get pushed forward by Him.

“Hoo hoo hoo! What a great choice! Very refined, I say you have excellent taste!”

Barnaby hoots with excitement, His bow tie swivelling in a circle as He pushes you to the centre of the stage.

… you don’t get two steps before your knees buckle, sending you tumbling into the stocks below that huge blade.

Your vision tunnels, honing in on that beautiful monstrosity. A three foot tall couteau, suspended 20 feet above you by a thick rope. The razor has been freshly sharpened, glinting menacingly in the candlelight from the chandeliers. A woven, bloodstained basket is positioned just below your chin, at the ready to collect its gruesome reward for its actions.

You shouldn’t be here. You didn’t know how you were here. You didn’t want this, you didn’t deserve this, you were just a curious mortal, youneededtoleaveyouneededtoliveyoucouldntdothis-

That same taloned hand rests on your back, soothing the gasping breaths you didn’t realise you were taking. You tear your eyes away from the sharpened edge hanging above your neck to see Him crouched in front of you, looking down at you with a mixture of concern and pity.

“Are-Are-Are you alright, little mortal? You’ve gone rather pale, hoo hoo. And those breathing patterns you do, they’ve sped up…”

You gasp, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes as you choke out-

“I-I-I d-don’t wanna d-die…!”

Barnaby huffs slightly, an unimpressed expression working itself onto His face. He replies in a firm tone:

“Hush, mortal. You’ve chosen, and that’s that! No backsies! Besides, hoot hoot hoo, dying is the best thing that ever happened to me!”

A grin forms on His features, His sharp teeth protruding a little as He begins to excitedly ramble.

“Oh, I remember it like it was yesterday! My lab that was so perfectly set up destroyed, the explosion and the sounds of cracking glass, it was- Oh, hoo hoot hooooooooo…”

He trails off, noticing his words are not helping. Quite the opposite, in fact. You continue to choke on your own breath, sobs wracking your body as your mind scrabbles for something, anything, that can get you out of this situation. He crouches in front of your helpless form, gently tilting your head up to look Him in those sharp orange eyes.

“Little mortal…? Speak to me, little mortal…”

You whimper quietly, the world spinning around you as you focus on His face.

“C-Can you… h-hold my hand…?”

He freezes, hesitating for a split second before a soft, almost uncharacteristically so smile forms on His face. Another talon gently grips your cold, clammy hand, those serrated talons from before all but gone as His fingertips gently trace patterns on your flesh.

“Hoo… of course, little mortal… would you like a countdown?”

You quickly shake your head, biting your lip as you raggedly breathe through your nose.

“N-N-N-No… t-tell me ab-b-bout the party… about w-what we’ll be doing…”

Barnaby chuckles softly, the sound oddly similar to that of rain falling, landing on the ground with a faint but distinct patter. Another hand appears, gingerly shutting your eyes as He begins to talk.

“Yes, yes, of course. Well, first of all, we’ll get you some proper attire, you can’t show up wearing those things. I have many mortal sized clothes to choose from, a few good suits, or a dress if you’re interested in those? Afterwards, I’ll introduce you to-”

He prattles on for a while, excitedly explaining the party to you. You find yourself almost falling asleep, the sound of his voice soothing as you almost forget where you are, what’s happening, what’s going to happen.

You hear a hissing sound, the sound of something falling.

You don’t open your eyes.

Thunk.

What if Fantoccio has some PTSD relating to theatre. Think about it. You’re alone for most of your childhood in an abandoned theater. Nobody to talk to. I don’t know a lot about the guy (other than I wanna snuggle him), but I do know that’d be pretty traumatizing.

Fantoccio was only eight when he was abandoned, correct? And now he’s 23. I’d assume he’s still mentally a child because of his isolation, but from I’ve seen in a lot of things (the one thing on my mind is the 8th birthday video for BBU), he’s rather mature.

ehehe I already put up a post on Twitter but also decided to put one up here!!

I'm searching for all 4 of the original Billie bust up plushies (Fantoccio, Barnaby, Billie and Aristotle)

악솔로틀과 염수~