FFFFFF i’m not cool at all hahah
i am just a loser who wants to be liked by people
aren’t we all
Also I’m so glad you liked it! Your information links on the side, that narrative bit you wrote, really helped me with your Once-ler, so thank-you for that. :D It was very good and inspired me to write what I did.
FFFFFF i’m not cool at all hahah
11 - Steampunk Once-ler
He made an iron man in his own image. Built him like he’d built his factory, put his heart and soul and deepest dreams into cogs and gears. Once-ler needed the assistance, hadn’t wanted to put the stress and demand on anyone else.
Sometimes when Greed-ler entered sleep mode, Once-ler marveled at the tick-tock sound of his parts. He’d held them in his hands, small and separate, nothing but metal, and now they gave life to his closest friend.
And when the valley was quiet as the grave, Greed-ler would hum for him and fill the silence.
He’d created life.
(I think you might know ask-steampunk-onceler, haha! Hope this fits.)
12 - Mad-Hatted Once-ler
He remembered his mistakes like stars—sharp, flickering points of light in the dark of his mind. They blink at him, far-away eyes watching from a distance as he ruined everything, then, now.
How had things been before the smog, and the schlop? Was his family really gone? Sometimes he heard them still, whispering, wanting.
“Once-ler, Oncie, Once-ler.” What was a Once-ler? Was it bad?
How bad could it possibly be?
But mostly he hears nothing, the valley without a pulse.
He ruined it. He isn’t certain of much—who he is, why it hurts, where they’ve gone—but he’s sure of that.
(This is based on ask-madhatted-oncie, specifically. Hopefully I didn’t misstep!)
13 - Junk-ler
He would try to clean up the mess, sometimes. It was his responsibility. Garbage was his legacy.
Once-ler would dig through the muck until his hands were stained with sludge, pus from the valley’s festering wounds. Every box, can, and carton, stamped with the word “UNLESS”.
He’d find bodies that had slid down beneath the heaps—no air, water, or sun, dead and cold with the plants. The trash stank, but the smell of a corpse was so much worse, so distinct and sickening.
There was no place to bury them but under more junk.
One day he’d probably join them.
(Based on Junk-ler, from askjunkler! I sort of ran with the story a bit, if there’s anything you’d like me to change, feel free to say so, sweetie! :3 And yes, all of my stories are depressing, looks like—except Swag, but he makes even depressing funny.)
Whoa, this will be… … … interesting. Sure! XD
Huh. Gotta think about this one.
Yes I will! I’ve finally finished pieces for Steampunk, Junk, and Mad-Hatted-Oncie, so those will be up soon, I just need to draw their little images… I’ve written skeleton bits for Teach-ler, Monster Once-ler, Inkblood and 72, so those will be up after, and the other reqs later. I’ve also worked on some others that weren’t requested.
I’m really sorry for the wait! Pls stop unfollowing me I get the message. X’D
This message came so long ago, but I swear it made me tear up. I’m so thankful for messages like these. I’ve sort of been just sitting and watching my follower count go down (lost 15 people, ahaha) and getting frustrated that I was feeling so uninspired. This really helped. <3
As Wreck-it-Ralph would say if he were literate:
I’M GUNNA WRITE IT :D
(I’ll try my best for Changeling, but no guarantee I’ll have the rules of the world all worked out… and as for Junk-ler and Prince-ler, doing them both, but separately, since this blog is focusing on the individual stories of each Once-ler in their own universe/situation. :D Excited to write about each and every one of these!)