DoogyDoof1202
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Cosmo gets caught by Twisted Flutter and Sprout and co come to rescue him. I was inspired by Queen Chrysalis and Celestia for this.
Bookmarked by DoogyDoof1202
06 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Pure fruitcake and gut wrenching.. AND ART OHHH FUCKKK OMGGGGGG FREKA BRO FREKA
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The main approached, its nature-esque footsteps sending vibrations throughout his ragdollish body as breath began to revisit once more. Great, this thing was going to toy with its prey before it finished him off, wasn’t it? Cosmo was a twisteds sick little play thing. He wouldn’t be able to savor a quick slash to the stomach—he couldn’t enjoy the deep gash of a traumatic slash wound and be left to bleed out.
His vision stilled and slowly eased back to normal. The breath that was entering his body stopped all bases of operation as he finally realized who was in front of him. As the twisted raised its arm once more, ready to take control of Cosmo’s fate with a finishing blow, the pastry weakly croaked out with uncertainty coating the tip of his tongue: “… Sprout…?”
It’s been years since Gardenview shut down. Half of the cast of Dandy’s World left to roam the abandoned floors mindlessly, waiting to kill. But today, something was going to change. Cosmo was about to make a decision—and reunite with a friend—that would change the trajectory of everyone’s lives. Twisted or not.
Series
- Part 2 of I HATE FRUITCAKE
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Sprout POV! Things have hit the fan since the Toon Handlers left in the dead of winter, and Sprout is left caring for an unconscious Cosmo.
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Glisten is having another bad day. Rodger notices later than Glisten wished he did. He admits things he’s kept to himself.
"Sequel" to The Burn and Airhorn
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i'll shiver the whole night through by DISGUSTIPATED
Fandoms: 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game)
17 Jun 2025
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“I’m sorry I had to restrain you that way,” Ada mutters, “You understand that I can’t let you hurt either of us.”
She assumes she’ll be met with silence again, and instead finds a distinct, quiet note of surprise when he shakes his head against the floor.
“...My fault,” He almost whispers, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
It’s an awful sound to hear. His voice isn’t quiet by intent, but rather because it sounds like he’s had his vocal chords raked out of his body. It’s raspy, raw. She can imagine a dozen causes for it. There’s no scarring, so it can’t have been a physical trauma — the most likely option is either from misuse, or from screaming. Her stomach churns again, and this time is potent enough that she clasps a hand over her mouth, just in case she actually vomits. It passes within seconds, though she’s left feeling a bit cold and clammy.
“It’s okay,” Ada instead assures, “I understand. I scared you.”