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sardinesandhumbugs · 1 year

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It takes an ecosystem...

A/N: Thank you @fan-of-my-fandoms for getting the boat moving on this with your enthusiasm for this idea, and also to all the anons who dropped by to throw yet more fuel on this au fire. This is a oneshot based on the “Portia gets adopted by all the Wild Wooders, several Riverbankers, and Mrs Otter Copes” au.

This particular oneshot is set from Badger’s POV, since it felt the easiest POV to get an overall impression of this mess, and is meant to give a gist of the vibe I had in mind.

In the wake of the retaking of Toad Hall, a strange sort of truce had settled between the Riverbank and the Wood.

This wasn’t because, one might expect, either side had offered any sort of apology (and there were plenty owed to go around) but rather that a peculiar double-booking of parenthood had occurred. Because while Portia’s (the eldest daughter of Mrs Otter) kidnapping had begun as an attempt to provoke the Riverbankers, what it had ended in was Portia gaining at least two new weasel uncles and one extremely strong-opinionated stoat aunt.

And honestly? Badger didn’t really see what all the fuss was about. (This was mostly because if he did see what the fuss was about, he’d be obligated to Help, and the retaking of Toad Hall had been enough excitement for one season.)

But regardless (and possibly courtesy of the new truce making it easier than ever for even the Riverbankers to appeal to his aid) animals kept turning up on his doorstep with the latest saga.

“She’s doing it again,” Mrs Otter grumbled, before Badger had even finished opening his front door. “Undermining my authority.”

Badger motioned for the Riverbanker to see herself in. “I take it the ‘she’ in question is the stoat you spoke of before?”

“Portia asked if she could go ice skating with friends and I said no, because there’s no guarantee it’ll be thick enough to stand on, and the last thing I want is to lose my daughter to the river after the year we’ve had,” Mrs Otter griped, making herself thoroughly at home in the way that one does after a too-long day. “And then the moment that I turn my back, that stoat sweeps in and takes her out onto the river anyway!”

The weather had been bitterly cold recently and, from what Badger had been hearing, most animals had ventured out onto the frozen river. There had even been races, with the only injury incurred that from a bad slip.

“Was there any trouble?” he asked. “On the river, I mean.”

Mrs Otter glowered. “She twisted her ankle.”

“That happens to pups her age.”

“It wouldn’t have happened at all, had she not been out when I said no!” Mrs Otter snapped.

“It mightn’t do her any harm to be out and about,” Badger told her gently. “To have some fun - or normality.”

She snorted. “Normality? What could be possibly normal about having the same Wild Wooders who kidnapped my daughter hanging around the Riverbank like it’s nothing?”

“Does Portia seem distressed by their presence?” Badger asked, already knowing the answer.

Mrs Otter glowered again. If the term ‘Stockholm Syndrome’ had been about, she would have swung the diagnosis like a baseball bat. As things were, however, all she was left with was a daughter who cussed more creatively than a sailor, and a gaggle of Wild Wooders who kept getting under her feet.

“She’s also picked up all sorts of foul language,” she added belatedly.

Badger grinned. “I seem to remember another otter who had to hastily clean up her language when her first pup came along.” He poured a mug of tea and handed it over to the grousing otter. “She’ll grow up. You did, after all.”

“I was never that bad.”

“You regularly threatened to run away to join the Wild Wooders whenever your mother made you eat your greens,” Badger reminded her, with only the barest edge of teasing. “You forget, I was around when you were Portia’s age.”

Mrs Otter didn’t have much to say to that.

“Yer an insecti- insecurei- insect-e-vore...”

Badger waited patiently for the weasel to find his way to the end of his sentence. It wasn’t unheard of for the Wild Wooders to seek out his advice, but in Badger’s experience, it tended to be for the more life-threatening situations - someone had caught pneumonia, or broken a rib, or eaten something they really, really shouldn’t have...

It generally wasn’t for whatever... this was.

“You eat worms, right?” the weasel finally settled on.

Badger observed the weasel. The animal wore a red-stained tie (made all the clearer for the unfortunate - or short-sighted - choice of a white fabric) and, as far as Badger could remember, was one of the Chief Weasel’s sidekicks. The name Lesser rang a bell.

“I do indeed eat worms,” Badger conceded. “When the mood takes me.”

“Do you know how to make worm broth?”

“I have been known to make it, on occasion.”

“I need some.”

“I do not,” Badger added, “have any on the go at this exact second.”

“That’s okay, I’ll wait right here.”

Badger gave the weasel another look. He believed the animal would just wait, too. He was probably going to regret asking this, but: “What do you need worm broth for? I wasn’t under the impression it was a favourite among your kind.”

The weasel squirmed. “It’s for the otter pup.”

“The otter pup.”

“She went out in the snow the other day and - uh, well...”

“Twisted an ankle?” Badger offered.

“Something like that. And, see, one of the other pups said that their mum always makes them worm broth when one of them’s sick, only we tried to make what we thought’d be worm broth, and it came out...” Lesser declined to describe it. “So, you see, we thought you’d know how to make it-”

“I do,” Badger said, “and I’m not going to.”

“But-”

“If you’re needing an expert in worm broth, I suggest you appeal to Mole’s nature,” he continued. “He usually has some on the go and, if not, you’ll do a lot better convincing him than me.”

It was not two days later that his door was subjected to yet another round of knocking. And he would have told his would-be guest to stop abusing his hospitality except - well - it was Ratty.

He ushered in the water rat, relieved to discover that Ratty’s previous visits hadn’t been mere outliers, but perhaps indicators of regular occurrence.

Regular occurrence, he quickly discovered, as long as there was chaos on the Riverbank.

“Are you quite sure we can’t do anything about the Wild Wooders, Badger?”

Badger pushed a steaming mug into Ratty’s paws. If Mrs Otter’s visit was anything to go by, then this was not going to be a quick turnaround. “Have they done anything worth doing anything about?”

“It’s not about what they’ve done, but what they’re going to do.”

“And what is that?”

Ratty mumbled something into his drink.

“Yes?”

“They’re dragging Mole into... whatever they’re up to,” Ratty muttered.

“I doubt Mole can be dragged into anything he doesn’t want to be,” Badger replied, entirely honestly. “What nefarious schemes are they enrolling Mole into now?”

“One turned up on our doorstep, asking for worm broth.”

“Ah yes, worm broth. The most heinous of meals.”

Ratty’s whiskers twitched self-consciously. “That’s not the principle of the thing. The principle of the thing is-” He faltered, and that flicker of righteous outrage faded. “The thing is that the first time Mole crossed paths with the Wild Wooders, they scared him half to death.”

“Animals change, Ratty.”

“These lot don’t.”

“Then circumstances do.”

Badger watched the son of his late friend fret, and marvelled at how, even though father and son differed in such ways (he never remembered the previous Rat getting quite so caught up in his own mind), he could still read Ratty the same way he had his father. Ratty’s paw ran along the back of his neck, coming to a stop at that hand-me-down hat, just as his father had done in his rare moments of discomfort.

“Ratty,” Badger said, “you’re not to blame for what happened that day.”

“I never said I was,” Ratty replied, just a little too curtly to be wholly at ease. “But...” and here, Badger could hear the truth cracking, “it’s true, isn’t it? If I hadn’t let him go off into the Wood alone...”

“Then things would be different,” Badger said simply. “As is the case with most choices. Now, Mole’s a grown animal; if he wants to help the Wild Wooders prepare a little bit of comfort food for a sick otter pup, then I think there’s nothing you can really do to stop him.”

By the time the next door knock arrived, Badger wasn’t even surprised.

He was, however, surprised to see the duo in question.

“I see you’re back on your feet, Portia,” he rumbled.

The otter pup shuffled from foot-to-foot, but kept her paw steadily over her nose, a bloodied handkerchief pressed into place. “Fell outta tree,” she mumbled around the makeshift compress.

“Are ya gonna let us in, or are ya gonna leave her to bleed all over your porch?” the Chief Weasel demanded.

Badger raised an eyebrow but gestured for them to enter. Portia bustled herself in with no reserves, but Badger didn’t miss the way the Chief gave him a wary look-over before following after the pup. The unease didn’t let up, even while Badger was seeing to Portia’s nose.

“So, fell out of a tree, did you?” Badger prompted. “Last I checked, otters weren’t an arboreal species.”

“A what-species?” Portia asked.

“Tree-dwelling.”

“Oh.” Portia tried to wipe the blood clear, and Badger firmly - but not harshly - slapped her paw away before she could smear it across her fur. “That’s probably why I fell out then.”

Reassured she hadn’t broken her nose, only given it a shock, he passed her towel to ease the blood. “So what were you doing up one?”

“Fetching a kite. One of the weasel pups’ ones got stuck.”

Badger glanced to the Chief in a ‘and you left the otter pup with the recently-twisted ankle to get it back’ kind of way.

“She said she could do it just fine!” the Chief snapped. “Ain’t my fault if she didn’t tell me she couldn’t climb!”

“S’true,” Portia mumbled.

“Well, there’s not much more to be done,” Badger announced. “And what have we learned from this?”

“That I need to get better at climbing trees,” Portia replied instantly.

Badger decided that was the best he was going to get. He let the odd duo out, but not before he saw the Chief Weasel pat the otter on the head in a decidedly paternal manner.

Badger quickly resigned himself that it was going to be at least a month of odd duos.

“My front door hasn’t seen this much action... well, ever,” he announced to the mole and weasel on his doorstep. Both looked suspiciously sheepish, and Lesser was fiddling with the arm of his glasses.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen an otter pup?” Mole asked.

“I suppose the otter pup in question would be Portia,” Badger made the educated guess of.

“You have seen her then?”

“No.” Badger let the seconds pass before eventually caving to curiosity. “Why-”

“No reason!” Lesser announced, and dragged the mole off.

Badger shut the door and headed back inside. With the way this season was going, he didn’t doubt that he’d discover what was going on before long.

“Hide and seek in the Wild Wood!” Mrs Otter bemoaned. “Who thinks that’s a wise idea for an otter pup?”

“Probably a Wild Wooder,” Badger replied. He’d gone to the trouble of making his visitor a cup of tea, and his hospitality had been duly rewarded by watching it go cold in her paws. It was, however, making a good prop for Mrs Otter to wave about whenever she needed Emphasis. “And they did find her, I presume?”

“Up a tree. She stayed up it for a good hour, just to make sure she won the game.”

Badger made a mental note that apparently Portia had made good on her promise to get better at climbing trees. “Safe?”

“Unharmed, if that’s what you mean,” Mrs Otter muttered.

“Then I really don’t see what has caused your distress.”

“It’s not safe for a Riverbanker!”

“Then it’s just as well she’s also under the care of Wild Wooders,” Badger replied tiredly. “Anyway, from what I heard of it, Mole was also keeping an eye on her.”

Mrs Otter grumbled again, in such a way that made Badger doubt that her eldest was going to be under the care of a certain mole any time soon.

At this point, Badger thought, he probably should just consider giving out keys to his front door and save himself the hassle of having to answer it. He opened his door to see - briefly - two soaked animals, before both dashed inside.

“HiMrBadgerHaveyoumetmyAuntieCheryl,” Portia blurted as she scooted inside.

‘AuntieCheryl’ turned out to be a stoat and also the Chief Weasel’s other second-in-command. She made a cursory attempt at a glower as she passed the badger, but was hampered somewhat by her chattering teeth.

“Pleasure as always, Portia,” Badger returned. He raised his gaze briefly to the thick rain beyond his door, before shutting it firmly out, and following after his impromptu guests. Portia was quick in claiming the chair closest to the fire but not, it had to be said, for herself; rather she had bundled the stoat into it and was already introducing a blanket to the mix.

“It’s rather wet for a walk through the woods, wouldn’t you say?” Badger hazarded.

“T’wasn’t raining when we started,” the stoat grumbled. It sounded like she was aiming for a growl, but had again been hindered by the shivers.

“It’s really raining buckets out there,” Portia said, and Badger understood this to be the closest she was going to give for an apology for barging in. “Auntie Cheryl would have caught her death of cold if we’d tried to make it back to the Wooders - or the Riverbank.”

“I’m fine,” the stoat muttered. This would have been a lot more believable had she not been retreating steadily further into the blanket.

“You’re not fine, you’re shivering,” Portia said.

“Little bit of rain never did anyone any harm-”

“Auntie Cheryl,” Portia said, and - to Badger’s amusement - she had her paws on her hips in the spitting image of her mother; “you are going to sit there and concentrate on not catching a cold while I get you something to warm you up.” Portia leant over to Badger and whispered, “Where’s the kitchen?”

“That door.”

“Thank you.”

With the same busyness that Badger recognised from Mrs Otter, Portia bustled into the kitchen, leaving him alone with ‘Auntie Cheryl’.

‘Auntie Cheryl’ eyed the badger warily.

“I’ll be out from under your nose before you know it,” she deadpanned. “Until then, I’ll try not to drip too much on the furniture.”

Badger sighed and pulled up a chair from the dining room. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the furniture,” he said. “It’s seen its fair share of damp guests.”

“Mr Badger!” Portia hollered from the kitchen. “Where do you keep your pots?”

“Second cupboard to the right!” Badger called back.

He didn’t entirely miss the way the stoat’s form stilled at his booming voice.

“So,” he said. “You’re the Auntie Cheryl I’ve been hearing all about.”

The stoat bared her teeth. “I suppose that worrywort of a mother has been talking your ear off about me,”

“Oh, I’ve heard about you from several quarters,” Badger replied, honestly enough. “But yes, the elder otter certainly does have her qualms about you.”

“She has her qualms about everything,” Cheryl snarled back.

“She has her reasons. After all, she did believe she’d lost her daughter only last winter.”

“But she never went looking proper for her, did she? She, what, scurried around the edge of the Wood for an afternoon, and then proclaimed her daughter a lost cause?” The stoat’s lip curled. “No Wild Wooder would ever give up on a pup so easily.”

No, Badger believed they wouldn’t. And he could read the anger in the stoat - this animal, who had somehow gained the mantel of aunt, and now simmered in the ire that her newfound niece would ever be abandoned.

“Things aren’t quite so simple as that.”

“It is!” the stoat snapped. “You either care enough to fight, or you don’t. She didn’t.”

He regarded the stoat. She was younger than Mrs Otter, but carried the years she did wear with a sharp sort of pride. Time had not yet dulled her claws nor tired her senses, and both were buffered by a quickness to clash.

“You’ve never lost a fight that truly mattered, have you?” he asked.

“Toad Hall--”

He held up a paw. “Toad Hall was a place, a thing,” he said. “You held on to it because you wanted it, not because it was precious. I’m talking about fighting for someone, and losing.”

Cheryl didn’t answer, but her face twisted as she searched - fruitlessly - for a reply to prove him wrong.

“It’s not a failing,” he said gently. “Merely an observation.”

“I don’t get what this has to do with anything.”

“Mrs Otter has,” he said.

“Then she should’ve fought harder.”

“We don’t always have that option.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Then what would you have done in the wake of a hunt?” he asked. “Defend your mate or protect your young?” He waited merely long enough for the stoat to realise she had no easy answer. “Like I said,” he continued, “fighting harder isn’t always an option.”

“Auntie Cheryl, Auntie Cheryl, I made you tea!” Portia came running in, wafting in the faint aroma of burnt... something from the kitchen. “Well, I tried, but Mr Badger’s stove is weird, and the kettle boiled over, and I might’ve knocked a bit of onion into the water from one of the garlands - sorry, Mr Badger--”

“No problem.”

“--but it looks like the right sort of colour, and you like onion in your food normally, so it’s probably okay–”

‘Auntie Cheryl’ dutifully sipped her onioned tea and didn’t reignite the conversation for the rest of her visit.

A/N: Aaaaaand I’m gonna stop there because this is getting long. I was intending this to have more of a narrative focusing on the Mrs O & Cheryl dynamic, but it mostly became “animals keep turning on Badger’s doorstep thanks to Portia”. I was aiming for both Mrs O and Cheryl to have valid points (Mrs O can be over-protective, while Cheryl isn’t always the most careful) and for them to be dealing with the side of Portia installed from the other guardian (Cheryl being mothered, and Mrs O dealing with recklessness) and I hope I got some of that across.

I might do more of this? This was fun, but I can’t really add much more to this post without it becoming A Lot to read. (3K. Oof. If you got this far, I’m impressed!)

If you did read and enjoy this, please leave a comment or nice tags so I can bask in their light and be energised for more writing!

#lesser knows fancy words exist he just struggles to know how to pronounce them #the wind in the willows #cat writes #witw fic #enemies to co-guardians #there is in theory uhhh a lot going on under the hood of several characters #from lesser and mole befriending each other #to chief having general nerves around badger #(mostly from remembering visiting badger in his youth only to fetch his help when someone was sick)#to ratty's usual anxiety #to mrs otter still picking herself up after the death of her mate #and the situation thereof #which pushed her from the wildcard she was in her youth #to being much more worried and overprotective novv

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dontbecattyratty · 3 years

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The Wind in the Willows (2017) + @screenshotsofdespair

#wind in the willows musical #witw musical #wind in the willows #witw #rat #mole #badger #toad #mrs otter #portia #chief weasel #lesser weasel

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kiiraeth · 3 years

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my second digital art piece ever! it took me three days and my back is killing me lmao, but i think she looks pretty good for me being a beginner in digital art!

i’m still learning and i’m having a bit of a hard time lmao so if you have any tips pls lemme now :’) but i am having fun with it and that’s all that matters 😌

#this is also based on an actual tarot card design i saw #but i am pretty happy with how she turned out #now i just need to stop looking at it so i don’t hate it lol #i got an art tablet for my birthday and clearly i’m thrivin #otter likes art 🖼#the arcana portia #portia devorak #portia devorak the arcana #the arcana #the arcana art

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xaharadesert · 2 years

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Arcana Masterlist #1

Requests are ✅open✅

Request line length: 14

Feel free to send questions, comments, concerns as well :) I’m always looking to interact with new people

Please let me know if any links aren’t working

Arcana Masterlist #2 <- more recent headcanons

Rules:

No OC inserts

If gender is not important for a request, it’ll be kept neutral

Please specify whether you’d like headcanons or a short fic (headcanons are easier, and will be done faster, but fics are always an option if you don’t mind waiting)

Please specify which characters you’d like (more characters=less headcanons per character + longer wait time— if not specified, I’ll do main 6)

Nothing about marriage, pregnancy, or parenting small children

Nothing about alcohol, drugs, or similar substances (I have no experience with them, so I can’t write them properly)

Nothing to suggest that the LIs are toxic people/partners (beyond canon events)

If you request something I don’t understand, I might message you to follow up (if it’s simple, I’ll research it myself)

Keep it sfw

And of course, I have the right to deny anything I don’t want to write

The Arcana:

Headcanons:

Asexual MC (Main 6)

Out of Control MC (Main 6)

Hypothermic MC (Muriel)

Forced Gladiator Rebel MC (Julian, Muriel, Asra)

Immortal MC (Main 6)

Masseuse/Masseur MC (Main 6)

Oblivious MC Pt 1 (Julian, Portia, Lucio, Muriel, Asra)

Oblivious MC Pt 2 (Nadia)

Bard MC (Main 6)

MC with Otter Familiar (Julian, Portia, Lucio, Muriel)

Random Headcanons Pt 1 (Main 6)

Random Headcanons Pt 2 (Main 6)

Random Headcanons Pt 3 (Main 6)

Intense and Adorable MC (Main 6)

Truth or Dare Compliments (Main 6)

Sports Day! (Main 6 + Nadia’s Family)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 1 (Julian)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 2 (Portia)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 3 (Lucio)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 4 (Muriel)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 5 (Asra)

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt 6 (Nadia)

MC with Love Language of Touch (Main 6)

Returned Memories (Main 6)

Accidental Potion Drinking (Main 6)

Post-Route Nap (Main 6)

Artist MC (Julian, Muriel)

Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI Pt 1 (Julian, Portia, Lucio)

Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI Pt 2 (Muriel, Asra, Nadia)

Badass & Chill MC (Main 6)

Shifter MC Pt 1 (Julian)

Shifter MC Pt 2 (Portia)

Shifter MC Pt 3 (Lucio)

Shifter MC Pt 4 (Muriel)

Shifter MC Pt 5 (Asra)

Shifter MC Pt 6 (Nadia)

MC Singing Hoist the Colours (Julian, Portia)

MC Who Leaves With Asra During the Plague (Asra)

Homemade Gift-Giver MC (Main 6)

Hypochondriac MC (Main 6)

MC with Shaking Hands (Main 6)

Winter Days! (Main 6)

Moth Hybrid MC (Portia, Muriel, Nadia)

Overly Kind MC (Julian, Portia, Lucio, Nadia)

Supposedly Mute MC (Main 6)

Artist MC Drawing Their LI (Main 6)

Shy Musician MC (Main 6)

Vegetarian MC (Main 6)

Time Travelling MC & LI Meet Past LI (Main 6)

MC Transported From Our World (Main 6)

MC Who is Close with Their LI’s Patron (Main 6)

MC Cooking LI’s Favourite Meal (Main 6)

Domestic Headcanons (Main 6)

Overly Affectionate MC (Main 6)

Jealousy (Main 6)

Cuddly MC (Main 6)

Favourite Songs/Music Headcanons (Main 6)

MC Losing Their Memories Again (Main 6)

Wholesome Headcanons (Main 6)

Wholesome Headcanons Pt 2 (Main 6)

Wholesome Headcanons Pt 3 (Main 6)

MC Injured by The Devil (Main 6)

LI Growing a Beard (Julian, Lucio, Muriel, Asra)

MC with Dermatillomania (Main 6)

MC Falling Asleep on LI (Main 6)

MC Losing a Family Member (Main 6, angst)

MC Losing a Family Member (Main 6, comfort)

Shapeshifting MC (Main 6)

MC Falling Out of Love (Main 6)

M6 Animal Friends Headcanons!

Ice Skater MC (Main 6)

Injured LI (Main 6)

MC Finding a Newborn Baby (Main 6)

Lucio with a Baby

MC Having a Breakdown Haircut (Main 6)

MC Referring to LI as Wife/Spouse/Husband (Main 6)

Celebrating MC’s Birthday! (Main 6)

MC with a Family Member LI Dislikes (Main 6)

Healer MC (Main 6)

LI’s Familiar Comforting Sad MC (Main 6 Familiars)

Caring for Mentally Unwell MC (Main 6)

LI Reacting to Someone Declaring Their Love to Uncomfortable and Taken MC (Main 6)

MC Getting Their Heart Ripped Out (Main 6)

Mean & Soft MC (Main 6)

Hugs (Main 6)

LI Witnessing MC’s Bad Breakup (Main 6)

Flowers from MC (Main 6)

MC with Dangerous Familiar (Main 6)

Undiagnosed Weak MC (Julian, Asra, Nadia)

LI’s Familiar Preferring MC (Main 6)

Secretly Royal MC (Main 6)

Modern MC Playing an Otome Game (Main 6)

LI Interrupting MC’s Wedding (Main 6)

MC with Chronic Pain (Julian, Portia, Lucio, Muriel, Asra)

Fanfics:

MC with Chronic Pain (Nadia)

MC Remembering Their Death (Asra)

Other:

Pronunciation of Character Names

Art Generator

#the arcana #dsmp #masterlist #headcanons #art #fic #fanfiction #mostly the arcana #arcana headcanons #arcana hc #Asra #Julian devorak #lucio #Nadia satrinava

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starkiddreamcasting · 3 years

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Dreamcasting for the Wind In The Willows musical maybe?

I know it's not really well known or anything, sorry

As if in a dream comes the Starkid dreamcast for the 2015 Wind in the Willows musical! Don't feel bad for requesting a lesser known show, but of the fun of creating these dreamcasts is learning about these shows I knew very little about. I watched the pro-shot for this show (which you can find for free on Youtube) and whipped up this dreamcast, hope you all enjoy!

1. AJ Holmes as Mr. Toad 2. Brian Rosenthal as Mole 3. Corey Dorris as Ratty 4. Dylan Saunders as Badger 5. Jeff Blim as Chief Weasel 6. Jaime Lyn Beatty as Ms. Otter 7. Lauren Lopez as Portia/Ensemble 8. Jon Matteson as Lesser Weasel/Fieldmouse/Ensemble 9. Kim Whalen as Swallow/Sheryl Stout/Ensemble 10. Tiffany Williams as Swallow/Fieldmouse/Ensemble 11. Rachael Soglin as Swallow/Fieldmouse/Ensemble 12. Tyler Brunsman as Rabbit Butler/Ensemble/Chief Weasel (u/s) 13. Ali Gordon as Horse/Ensemble 14. Curt Mega as Mr. Hedgehog/Car Driver/Ensemble 15. Jamie Burns as Mrs. Hedgehog/Gaoler’s Daughter/Ensemble 16. James Tolbert as Head Chorister Fieldmouse/Ensemble/Ratty (u/s) 17. Jim Povolo as Magistrate/Ensemble/Badger (u/s) 18. Joey Richter as Prison Guard/Ensemble/Mr. Toad (u/s) 19. Joe Walker as Engine Driver/Ensemble/Mr. Toad (u/s)/Ratty (u/s) 20. Meredith Stepien as Bargewoman/Ensemble/Ms. Otter (u/s) 21. Brian Holden as Sentry Stout/Ensemble/Chief Weasel (u/s) 22. Britney Coleman as Sentry Stout/Ensemble/Ms. Otter (u/s) 23. Brant Cox as Sacred Stout/Ensemble/Mole (u/s) 24. Lily Marks as Swing 25. Nick Strauss as Swing/Badger (u/s) 26. Alex Paul as Swing 27. Richard Campbell as Swing/Mole (u/s)

Make sure to leave any show suggestions or any questions on my casting choices so I can explain them.

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chiropteracupola · 3 years

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...mrs. otter and portia...

(from the 2021 Comedy Wildlife Photography Awards)

#wind in the willows #which you should check out because all of them are Hilarious

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gutsofgold · 8 days

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Wind in the Willows Musical content you made not have seen!

Harry Otter

Source: @georgiewestall on Instagram

#witwcymnhs #wind in the willows #wind in the willows musical #portia otter #emilie du leslay #instagram is where i find all of these tbh

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chiefweasel · 1 year

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Witw Gender Headcanons bc why not

Toad (AMAB) is some Xenogender that he coined himself. No idea what it would be - Toad/Him/Her

Ratty (AMAB) Cisgender - He/Him

Mole (AMAB) Doesn't really know yet - He/Him

Badger (AMAB) Cisgender - He/Him

Mrs Otter (AMAB) Transgender woman - She/Her

Portia (AMAB) Transgender woman - She/Her

Chief (AMAB) Under the nonbinary umbrella but doesn't really know or care beyond that - He/They/It

Lesser (AFAB) Demiboy - He/Him He/They

Sheryl/Cheryl (AMAB) Transgender woman/demigirl - She/Her She/They

FOX NEWS fox (AFAB) Transgender man - He/Him

Rabbit Buttler (you know, the one)(AFAB) Bigender, Female and Male - She/He

Alternative options Many Thanks to the Weasel Hall Discord server for these

Toad (AMAB) cisgender - He/Him

Mole (AFAB) Transgender man - He/Him

Lesser (AMAB) Some male leaning gender, not entirely sure what - He/Him He/They

Sheryl/Cheryl (AFAB) Cisgender - She/Her

I do plan on continuing to add to this list so if you have any drop them here

Last updated Monday, November 7th 10:34pm (2022)

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a-place-to-come-back-to · 3 years

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So I watched witw last night with my family (7th time whoop whoop) and this idea held a gun to my head and didn’t let me go until I wrote it so here

~~~~~~~~~~ The walk back from the courtroom was a solemn one, to say the least. The pleas of Toad seemed to torment Rat’s ears long after they had ceased, as if mocking him for his failure. He pulled his coat tighter with a huff. His pace picked up slightly and eventually he passed Mole and Badger, who were talking in low, subdued voices. Mrs. Otter was asking a few more animals about Portia, still clinging on to one last bit of hope that he desperately wished would pay off soon. Portia was a good pup—just a pup—and after what Mrs. Otter had already been through... he couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain of losing a child.

He vaguely heard Badger say something to Mole about how the situation wasn’t his fault, and Ratty wanted to comfort his friend, he really did; wanted to assure him that the only one held responsible for Toad’s actions was Toad; wanted to tell him how the fact that he fell for Toad’s cruel trick only showed the depths of his compassion and the kindness of his heart; wanted to tell him such things were nothing to be ashamed of in any situation, and that blaming himself for things out of his control would lead him down a path that Ratty desperately wanted to protect him from. Despite all the want in his soul, somehow the words refused to present themselves. Something was numbed inside of him, preventing him from doing much besides walk as if in a daze—as if in a dream, Toad’s voice whispered in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, giving his head a small shake as if to try and rid himself of the haunting voice of his friend, his pace quickening even more as if trying to outrun the truth of it all. He was stopped in his tracks abruptly as a familiar cane snagged his arm. “Do watch where you’re going, Ratty,” Badger advised. Rat opened his eyes and observed a tree root that he would have tripped over had the other animal not stopped him. He sidestepped it without a word and continued his way a bit slower than before. “You’re being awfully quiet, Ratty, it’s not like you,” Mole spoke up after a few moments. Rat could hear the undertones of worry in his voice—he hoped Mole didn’t think him angry at him. “I’ve got nothing to say. We failed,” he muttered, then added bitterly, “I failed.” “There’s really not much more we could have done,” Badger said heavily, “you know how Toad is. He’s more of a force of nature than an animal—there’s no stopping him once he’s made up his mind to something.” Rat shook his head, hitching his coat closer again—more for comfort than for warmth. He didn’t feel the cold. He supposed that was a bad thing, but couldn’t find the space to care. “I should’ve done more,” he berated himself, “I—I should’ve stayed with Mole. I should’ve tried sooner to stop Toad, I should’ve—” “But you can’t blame yourself for any of that,” Mole broke in kindly, “you didn’t know what would happen—besides, Badger’s right, we did all we could. The rest was basically out of our control.” Rat huffed and sped a few paces ahead, trying to escape the worries stares that he could feel boring into the back of his head. “I suppose this is what you deserve, isn’t it?” he scolded himself under his breath, “just another reminder that you need to be better—if only you had let go of you stupid pride and tried to keep an eye on Toad, then you wouldn’t have condemned him to twenty years in prison. His father was always kind to you, that would’ve been the least you could’ve done for him. But always too little, too late with you, isn’t it? First you fail Dad, now you fail Toad—next I suppose it will be Mole, you stupid animal—” Once again his arm was snagged by the cane, but this time he was yanked to a stop roughly. He turned back to Badger with a sharp comment that died on his lips once he met the other animal’s eyes—almost angry, but with a sadness hidden there as he scowled at Ratty. “Mole, walk ahead, please,” Badger directed the other animal, “I need to speak with Ratty.” Mole obliged, throwing Rat an unreadable glance as he did so. Badger watched him until he was a bit farther ahead, and turned back to the rat with a disapproving gaze. “What—” “Have you forgotten that badgers have excellent hearing?” Badger said harshly, cutting off Rat’s question. Ratty gaped for a moment as the realization hit him that Badger had heard every word he had been muttering in the supposed safety of a whisper. Something in Badger’s face softened as Ratty began to stutter half-formed falsehoods in a panicked attempt to avoid the upcoming conversation. “You are a fine young animal, Ratty,” he said firmly, “and it truly pains me to hear how poorly you think of yourself. You did not fail Toad, and you certainly did not fail your father,” Ratty’s gaze dropped down in shame and Badger stooped a bit to catch it again. “You mustn’t think such things. It was entirely out of your control,” he said gently. Ratty glanced away for a moment, blinking back a suspicious wetness in his eyes. “But what if I could’ve done more?” he murmured, something almost broken sounding working its way into his voice. He wasn’t sure to which failure he was referring to, but he supposed it applied to all of them. Badger sighed heavily, laying a paw on the back of Ratty’s neck, much in the same way that he used to when the rat was a pup. “That’s a dangerous game to play,” he warned, “it does not do well to lose ourselves among the ‘what if’s and the ‘should have’s of the past.” Rat nodded in agreement and sniffed—purely because of the weather, he told himself. Then out of some sudden impulse driven by long carried guilt, he blurted out, “I’ve failed you too.” Badger frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but Rat barreled on. “I all but abandoned you after Dad... I’m sorry, I—I should’ve visited more, but I thought you wouldn’t want me—” Badger yanked him into a fierce hug, cutting off his self-deprecating speech. Ratty faltered for a moment before he wrapped his arms around the other animal. He was shaking—because of the weather, he told himself adamantly. “You have never failed me in any way, do you hear me?” Badger said almost sternly, giving the younger animal a small shake to emphasize his words, “it was I who abandoned you, and the responsibility for the situation lies strictly on me. You are far too young to try and carry such unnecessary burdens.” Ratty nodded, a tightness in his throat preventing him from speaking. “I am very proud of the animal you have become, and I know your father would be too,” Badger added softly. Ratty’s head dropped down to the other animal’s shoulder as he tried to collect himself. Badger squeezed him tighter and they stayed like that for a minute before Badger released him. Ratty sniffled again and wiped at his eyes—just the weather—and Badger gave him a kind smile. “Go catch up to Mole, I suspect he is rather worried,” the older animal told him. Rat returned the smile and jogged ahead to catch his friend, who looked over him carefully when he finally met up with him. “Are you alright, Ratty?” Mole asked in a downtrodden way that made the rat falter a moment. “Of course I am,” he said easily, before adding cautiously, “are you?” Mole sighed. “Moles have excellent hearing too, you know,” he said gently. Ratty froze a moment with an attempted excuse on his tongue before he ducked his head, the weight of shame overtaking him again. Mole threaded an arm through his, leaning his head against Rat’s shoulder. “You should listen to Badger,” was all he said. Ratty nodded, his paw reaching out to squeeze his friend’s. “I’ll try, I promise,” he assured. Mole sighed again. “Next time you try to talk bad about yourself, I’ll beat you with your own hat,” he muttered without much malice behind his voice. The image that popped into Rat’s head at that was so comical that he was unable to suppress a laugh. “What, you don’t think I will?” Mole challenged good-naturedly. Ratty shook his head, a grin spread across his face. “No, but just... can you even reach it?” he teased. Mole gaped in offense, which drew another laugh out of Ratty. Mole’s face morphed into a mischievous grin. “Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” he decided. He yanked down on Ratty’s arm, snatched the hat off his head in a fluid motion, and began to attack the other animal with it. Laughter flew as quickly and as freely as the hat did as Ratty tried to avoid the assault, and soon both of them were doubled over in mirth, gasping for air. Badger watched them from farther down the path with a bittersweet smile, something inside of him softening at the sounds of their laughter. Even though he had failed Ratty, he was glad that the animal was blessed with such a good friend as Mole.

#kat writes #fics #the wind in the willows #the wind in the willows musical #look the ending isnt great but i wanted a cheerful note #i am far better at writing angst than at writing anything lighthearted #the first half of this was written at like 1 am apparently thats the magic hour #like i said beofre APPARENTLY EVERYTHING I WRITE WILL HAVE BADGER ANGST MAKE AN APPERANCE #anyway i hope you enjoy #oh also do please let me know if you catch any spelling/punctuation errors #im awful at catching them

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