#jester answers some asks B]

[evilminji]

Behold! o/ The Face Of Benevolent Evil!

Mr. Principle! A professional hero and educator!

Also possibly some sort of stoat hybrid! Certainly a chimera of Japanese fauna! With the Quirk High Specs, he is one of, if not THE, smartest beings on the planet of which he resides! With a background perfectly justifying a decent into hatred and villiany, he instead chose to channel his incredible world shaking intellect into the shaping of future generations!

He likes to fuck with people!

For FUNSIES~☆!

What can he say? It keeps a man young and mentally stimulated! Plus the hysterical screaming of his staff and students is HILARIOUS. He can even argue it makes for good reaction training! Unforseen situations, children! React!!! *psychotic chortling*

Mmmmm, yes. We all have our trauma responses. Ways we deal with them. He should probably find other means... but he won't! Tea and tormenting the student body make for good future heroes, you know! They adapt!

But! You may ask! Why am I introducing you to this... *polite yet somehow deeply threatening smile* c-completely sane and normal individual!? Esteemed educator that he is! Ha ha...

A good and not at a under threat question!

Villains? Are fuuuuuckin STUPID!

Doesn't matter how many PHDs you possess! In fact! That makes it WORSE! You moron! You absolute fool! No traveling circus would have you, you sub-rate CLOWN of a jingle jangle dunce jester! You have a god damn PHD! Possibly MULTIPLE PHD!

And you thought "ooooh I should go into cwiiiiime~☆"?

Do you hear yourself when you talk? DO YOU?! Ooooh boohoo. They won't let you study what you WANT to study. It's called an ETHICS BOARD. And YEAH, NO SHIT! Maybe get over it and keep you fucked up fantasies to your SELF.

Or? If you REALLY can't hold it in? Lay the ground work like EVERYONE FUCKING ELSE! You're not special! Everyone wants to play god! It's FUN! They let you have the COOL toys! But you have to EARN that shit! Not jump straight from graduation to "fucked up superscience"!

And? If it's NOT the Ethics Board? But just some bureaucrat on a power trip? You don't have to fucking STAY. This? This RIGHT HERE? Is why I-Island fucking EXSISTS.

APPLY.

They are SO MANY countries you could move too. SO MANY other labs. You actual DUMBASS.

But NO! You decided to commit to a fucked up underground Villian Lab. As though HUNTING THOSE isn't the PERSONAL fucking passion project of THE SMARTEST BEING IN JAPAN. Frankly? You deserve this. You deserve this and our school doesn't know you. Never heard of you. You whoms't?

Coulda changed the world. But instead all you did was piss of The Fuzzy White Demon Lord of UA. Rest in pieces. *click*

*sound of doors smashing open*

*violent Raid Upon Your Labs noises*

But! You may ask? What's IN the Lab?

What MAKES this a DP crossover?

I like your question asking spirit! Good one! And the answer? You know what's better then ONE(1) Nedzu? A second one that you can ACTUALLY control this time! After all! You could consider Mr. Principle a prototype. A proof of concept, if you will. If you were able to make ANOTHER.....

Well, you would set off EVERY. SINGLE. ALARM. Nedzu has set up!

All of them!

Because he don't PLAY THAT.

He has long last trauma from the labs and is the SOLE FUCKING SURVIVOR. There WERE others. They Did Not make it. And their slow agonizing deaths are carved into his brain for the rest of his life. Truely "The living shall envy the dead"; it was a place that made hell seem merciful.

When he declare Never Again?

He fucking MEANT Never Again. He will BURN your empires to ash, with you in them. No More Labs.

So :) You can IMAGINE :) HOW HAPPY HE IS :)

That someone out there is trying to RECREATE his SUPER traumatic childhood, on ANOTHER CHILD. Ha ha! Gonna be a second Nedzu huh? Planning to torture HIM like you did me, HUH? Shove him in a cage and treat him like an animal? Force him to watch as the others die? Collars and whips and cattle prods? Mazes?!

Nedzu may lose his shit.

Juuuuust a little bit.

But if anyone there knows what good for them? They saw NOTHING. What's a little PTSD flashback between friends? Now what is the baby?

Smashcut to said baby!

Because it was a TEAM effort, Danny was successful in "Nuh Uh!"ing out of Rulership. But NOT out of governance. Since he DID help. He's a Councilman now. It's? Not as bad as it could be, honestly. Since it's opened the Zone up to a more democratic system.

Still held by "kick the ass of the person you wanna replace" but still!

Babysteps.

Thing is? There was apparently this weird? Leak? Like a couple hundred years ago, in this one area, that was never addressed. Everyone just moved their doors and stuff. Treated it like the floors flooded. But now that they HAVE someone to complain too?

They all want their territories back.

"Go fix it!" What are we? Janitors?

Danny looses the rock, paper, scissors competition. He's pretty sure Boxy cheated. But like? Dude has a kid to go home too, so Danny doesn't fight him to hard on this. Uuuuuugh. Just remember the Spider-Man motto. Great power~ blah blah blaaaah~

And? Wow is it fucked out there.

The whole PLANET has to be limnal as FUCK. Yikes.

Problem is? When he and his team (Because YES, he HAS learned from his mistakes, Jazz.) get close to the... frankly the Zone here looks like distorted spiderwebbing. With him leading the charge, obviously.

....something happens.

It's... it's not a portal. Wrong color. It's like someone USED the weird spiderwebbing effect to... to reach INTO the Zone? But they are severally Limnal. Clawed hands, blue tint. But that's not the problem.

No, the problem.

The Horror.

The thing that his team can only watch on in agonized terror as it plays out... is that hand? It shoots out of nowhere. Ghostlike in the Zone. Meaning it must be living. And PLUNGES directly into Danny's chest to wrap around his core.

Time seems to slow.

He can't even scream in pain. At the violation. His team, acquaintances, yes, but friendly ones. Can not even cry out in horror, as they watch their friend and team lead be butchered before them. Before that uncaring hand is ripping back. Perfect ice and starlight in its uncaring grip.

For a terrible moment... he is in two places at once.

Then he is crushed in a burning grip. Like molten bars. Watching his own body dissolve into nothing in an instant, pain and horror still etched upon his face. The beginnings of screams ripping from his team as they jerk away from the nightmarish threat.

Then he can not think at all.

He... he TRIES. Knows he has been captured. Is certainly not the sort to give up easily. But... he's so tired. His body feels? Weird. Not wrong, per say. It's HIS. But... small and weird. Like he's shape shifted into a new form and hasn't adjusted yet.

....

.......

...........

He's getting really sick of all the goop against his whiskers and in his ears. It feels WEIRD against his fu- WAIT a second... did those assholes shove him into an animal? Why?! To contain him? Ha! Jokes on them! He's DONE THIS before!

For FUN!

He once spent a whole ass summer as a tiny dragon just 'CAUSE!

Unfortunately, said assholes notice him waking up. Dump him in a glorified hamster cage. But like.... a SHITTY "I don't care about the pet I bought" hamster cage. Dude. And he's naked.

Is that Japanese? Ooooh! It IS! Thank you, Tucker's Weeb phase.

......actually, never mind. Lotta dehumanizing language there, my guys. What is this? The GIW international? You couldn't even give me PANTS? Swear to God, call me an "it" ONE more time and the next time I have to go? I am going to aim through the bars at your-! *alarms going off*

....wasn't me.

I mean, be all means, ha ha and get fucked, but? Wasn't me. Oh hey! Some one exploded the doo-

AND? In Lab 4?

Nedzu finds a child with fluffy, ungroomed black and white fur, and the curious yet cautious eyes of a survivor. They are the most magnificent green, pale and luminous they glow in the laboratories lighting. Paws too big for his small frame, delicate ears on the swivel, equally large. Yet to grow into either. Adolescent, at best.

He watches the child take him in. Note his features and the chaos behind him. The injured scientist under his feet. Come to him conclusion. Nedzu will not rush him. Now that he... he stand the chance to be the hero he himself never had. It is a strange feeling. At once cathartic and unbearably painful.

He is given the equivalent of a cheerful grin, as the lad points the the lock on the cage. Is asked if he happened to bring a spare pair of pants. He can not help his amused chortle as he makes quick work of the lock. The unbearable RELIEF he feels.

He... he was not too late.

These monsters had no chance to crush the boy's light. To make a monster of him, like they did with him. He survived his laboratory, his hell. But not all of him left that terrible place. He knows that. Some innocence, some goodness, died alone in the dark. But here? He insured there would be no chance.

With amusement, he watches the boy turn the lab upside down until he finds spare scrubs. Triumphant, he then considers his own, tiny claws. Dismisses them. Attempts to hop up on a chair to retrieve something sharp. It? Is unbearably cute. To watch him rip and shred, problem solve. His little mind churning away. Whiskers twitching as his eyes dart around, considering his options.

Nedzu offers one of his spare knives.

Watches him light up.

Adorable~

@legitimatesatanspawn @hdgnj @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @lolottes

[cassandrarebornanew]

The Misfits

TF141 x gn!reader

Monster!AU - using the popular ones for 141 

(Price = dragon, Ghost = ghoul, Soap = werewolf, Gaz = harpy)

No use of Y/N, minimal character description 

TW: mild swearing

2.8K words

Enjoy :D

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“I’m here, I’m here!” Soap calls as he bursts through the door and oh-so-gracefully throws himself onto his chair. Ghost has to reach out and grab the back of the chair just to stop it from tipping over, before glaring at the Scotsman. A cheeky grin is his only response before attentions swivel back to Price. 

“We’re going to team up.” Was his only sentence. Gaz stopped playing with one of his loose feathers to stare at the Captain. 

“Ya what now?” 

This was new territory for every man in the room, and it showed. Soap, however, lived up to the werewolf pack mentality, and started asking about a thousand questions. A clearly exhausted Price puts a hand up to stop the onslaught, before continuing. 

“You may have heard of The Misfits?” Phrased as a question, but not one that needed answering. The Misfits were sort of like mercenaries. The name had been given to them because a) no one knew where they came from and b) no one ever had called them normal. They were called in all across the world when officials didn’t know who to turn to, didn’t have anyone strong enough, didn’t know who else to trust. They never sold information, just their services, so a long time ago the entire world came to some kind of unspoken agreement that there was no point in trying to hide anything from them. They just gave up, and now, The Misfits are both famous and infamous, depending on who you ask. Ghost decides to answer for the team. 

“Are you saying we’re gonna team up with The Misfits? The Misfits?”

A nod of confirmation. “There’s some illegal experimentation in a laboratory we know next to nothing about - except that everyone who goes in, doesn’t come out.” 

“Kinda cliche…” Soap mutters. “So, what? We teaming up with them to make it easier for us? How much can they actually bring to the table?” 

Price straightens slightly from the table he was leaning on. “Well, I suppose I should brief ya on their skills.” A couple clicks and five figures show up on the screen. “First: Arctic. He’s a bear shifter, polar bear, to be exact.” A tall, burly man shows up on screen with a crooked nose and white, closely shaven hair. “Jesus. Almost as tall as Ghost.” The man in question clearly isn’t pleased at the comparison. “Excellent stamina, strength, barely feels the cold. Can track like no one’s business, and is utterly relentless. Not a fan of heat, or being particularly quiet apparently. Next: Crux. They’re a dragon, like me, so you know the drill. Fire resistant, flight, durable. Bad temper, hates the cold. Sorta works the opposite to Arctic.” Red hair, tanned skin, and a sharp grin to contrast the aggressive body language. “Third: Jester. He’s a pixie, so tricks, illusion, minor puppetry magic. He’s also one hell of a thief. Not the strongest though, and he can have a bit of an attitude.” The smallest of the lot, with big grey doe eyes and a crooked smirk. “Fourth: Scope. She’s a hawk hybrid, so incredible aim, flight, and speed. Precise with her attacks, but doesn’t always remember to put enough force in. Also got a history of issues with leadership.” Laser focused eyes, tall, and lean. Brown hair with a little white birth mark just above her nose. “And, finally, the one you’ve all being waiting for. Thanatos.” You come up on the screen. Sharp, confident, and intense. You have an electric blue lock of hair hanging over your left eye, which is seems almost bleached - certainly paler than your right eye. “While the rest of the team aren’t really unusual, they are. They are the leader of the group, and have literally no public data. Just their name, magical alignment, and this one grainy image. They’re harder to detail than Ghost over here. Finally, they’re a wild mage.” The air flows out of everyone’s lungs. Mages are rare, one in about 50,000. Then, only one in 1,000 of them are able to do anything really dramatic, making a grand total of around 160 mages in the entire world being in any way interesting. There are so many different kinds of magic, that most mages have an incredibly specific magical ability. Wild mages, however, could do any kind of magic they wanted to. The last wild mage was recorded to have been born in 1868, and died in 1989. But you didn’t look that old. In fact, you seemed to be around your late twenties. Ghost is the first to come to the obvious question. “If the last wild mage recorded died over 30 years ago, how the fuck are they one?” Soap, finally connecting the dots, agreed. Price plants himself into his chair heavily.

“We dunno. Either they are real old, or their birth weren’t recorded. Maybe you’ll get to ask. Alright, moving on the mission…”

Arctic leaps out the helicopter the second it touches the ground. He’s the only one in the group with a real aversion to flight, and has made it excessively clear.

“Calm ya tits, mate!” Chirps Jester. “You that eager to meet the new blood?”

“They aren’t that new” Crux points out. “Most of them are older than you, ya know?” By this point you’re all out of the chopper, and have started to survey the area around you. Murmuring observations to each other, you stride towards the door. It leads to a stairway leading a couple floors down, Jester promptly hoping from railing to railing, and Scope shifting before gliding down gently. The rest of you take the stairs the regular way, because, to quote Arctic, you aren’t that pretentious. A couple more hallways and closed doors, before you stride out to the middle of the room, and are met with the four, curious faces, of your temporary teammates.

Soap whistles lowly. His eyes are glued to you, along with almost every other pairs of eyes in his task force. “That grainy image we got doesn’t do ya justice.” He clearly didn’t mean to be so loud, given the following reddening of his face. Jester lets out his signature laughter: “I agree with the wolf boy! It really doesn’t show off your beauty properly…” the whole time he’s inching closer, before standing on his tiptoes to sling an arm around your shoulder. You, without even looking in his direction, gently push him off. A few steps forward, and you’re standing in front of your team, arms crossed and feet apart. Casual, but ready for anything. It’s almost second nature by now - you’ve been taking care of your team since you all came together, and it’s clearly ingrained into you. The 141 notice this… readiness you have, the relaxed confidence. The others behind you also shift slightly. Ready for the command to run, fight, stand down; whatever you deem best. As you survey them, they survey you. You’re the first to break the silence.

“You know our names, we know yours. What I want to see are your fighting styles, and I’m sure you want to see ours. Where’s your training room?” It clearly wasn’t a question, and Price starts to lead the way. A nod to your team, and they loosen, following and chatting like nothing changed. Price can’t help but be impressed at the control and respect you have, and his curiosity spikes slightly. He’s eager to see what you’re made of. 

You all walk out of the changing rooms, geared up and ready to go. None of the 141 would admit it, but you look lethal. And it excites them. You all line up on the opposite end of the mat. 

“How are we going to do this, hm?”

There’s a beat of silence as you all try and figure out the logistics. 

“How about” you offer, “the four of you, one on one against my four, and then I go against you four after.”

There’s a couple of seconds of silence. “I mean, that could work.” Soap proffers, “but isn’t that kinda unfair?” 

Arctic scoffs, before gruffly replying in his thick accent. “Yes, it is unfair. They will kick your collective asses, especially with that attitude.”

You try your best to contain your smirk as the 141 take this in. Price thinks for a few more minutes before agreeing, and as you take a step back, everyone else pairs up. This is the perfect opportunity for you to properly analyse the other team. Price and Crux, Ghost and Arctic, Soap and Scope, Gaz and Jester. The fights begin.

They were all pretty even matches, but you were rather pleased to say that your team largely had the upper hand. Now, you stepped onto the mat, facing your four opponents. “Oh, does one of you mind?” You turn back to your team. Crux holds out a hand, already knowing what you mean. You reach over your back and pull off your long sleeve over layer. You’re wearing a shirt underneath, but it has no real back, just a stripe of fabric around your neck and waist. You can feel the shock radiating off the others as they take in your tattoo. Along the lower half of your spinal cord are bone-like arrows, twisted at the ends and decreasing in size. Across your shoulder blades the same spindles lengthen and twist, stretching like wings, with two orbs in the centre of the wingspan. The tattoo flexes as you do, and as your magic rises to the surface, you can feel the power humming and lighting up the tattoo. It’s a symbol of your power, and a sort of outlet, one that annoyingly burns through the back of all your shirts. You’ve taken to wearing backless ones, like the one you have on know, just to save yourself the hassle. Turning back to the task force, you pop a couple joints and lower your centre of gravity. While your left eye usually is technically blind, when your magic surfaces, so does a particular kind of sight. You can see intentions, the flow of magic, and the trajectory of movement. You see more with that eye than you ever will with your good one. Shifting further into the centre of the mat, your opponents circle you, an attempt to put you on the back foot before the fight has even begun. You let them. They do need some advantages after all.

Soap lunges, shifting into his wolf form midair. You twist, springing up and over his form, fingers skimming the fur of his back and using a little magic to push him down onto the mat. You block Gaz’s punch coming from your left, dodge Ghost’s kick and flip Price over your back so that he’s now in front of you. All this is in the space of four, five seconds. Half a thought and the ghoul goes flying, straight into Price, who was just getting back on his feet. Jester’s cheering now, and the others clearly enjoying the show. You kick high, towards Gaz’s head, and as he blocks, you let your other foot rise up, kicking him hard in the stomach as you fall back on the mat. Rolling out of the reach of Soap’s elongated claws, bouncing back of your feet, and the next thing anyone knows, you’re behind Ghost. He twists, hitting your arm hard with a shadowy appendage, before you grab the back of his head and bring it down to your knee sharply. He’s wearing a balaclava, not his mask, so the hit makes him stumble for half a second: all you need to sweep his feet out from under him. Price swings, flame bursting from his mouth. Water twists up in front of you, steaming and causing a smoke screen. You hit the back of his knees, forcing them to snap out from under him, and almost get floored by Gaz. He’s swept out from above, rather cleverly, but didn’t account for your reflexes. Grabbing his fist, you spin, slinging him into his Captain’s chest. Soap grabs you from behind, before stiffening as your magic locks his muscles. A bit of force breaks you from his hold, and you dodge out the way just in time for Ghost’s swing to hit his teammate instead of you. This continues for a while. Blow after blow. They get some good hits in, but nothing in comparison to you, and your unpredictable magic gives you a greater advantage than they ever realised. Their stamina and strength slowly decrease, and eventually, they have to concede. Crux chuckles. “Saw that one coming. Every time, the same damn thing happens. When will people learn to stop underestimating you?” You take your jumper back and slide it on. “They haven’t yet, and you know how long I’ve been around.” Scope congratulates you, clapping you on the back. 

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask.” Soap calls out to you. “How old are you? The last recorded wild mage died over 20-��� “30” “-30 years ago, and you look like you’re, like, 30 years old max. What’s that ‘bout?” A bold approach: you can admire that. 

“I’m older than anyone here, I can tell you that. Not much else I’m gonna share with a veritable stranger, but I’ll let you in on a secret. My magic is a phenomenon in more ways than one, and I know how to use it very well.” 

He doesn’t seem particularly satisfied by that, but your tone brooks no argument. Price clears his throat and steers the conversation away from the topic, telling you all that it’s time to eat. Arctic quietly mumbles something is Swedish about how he already knows the food’ll be shitty, and while you chuckle at that, you decide not to translate. The two teams head towards the mess hall, which is completely empty except you nine. After a while, everyone relaxes, talking more openly and easily (some more than others, of course). You learn how the 141 came together, and hear some of the more intense stories about the ‘Shadow Corps’. Of course, they learn a lot about The Misfits too, stories and accounts flying this way and that. You may not admit it, but you’re pretty sure this will be an interesting team up to say the least. Eventually, the conversation shifts to the upcoming mission. 

“The lab, yeah? We get in, take the scientists and victims out, before destroying everything we can. Simple.” Gaz summaries for everyone. Despite a few mumbles about the ‘simple’ part, there’s a general consensus with his words. 

“We’ve got a couple more days to train together, and plan, before we head out. So, I recommend an early night, cause we’re starting early tomorrow.” Price reminds everyone, as you walk out the mess. You agree, much to the chagrin of some people. You slowly start wandering over to the barracks, before the teams spilt and you each make yourselves comfortable in your own area. 

“What do you think, Cap?” Scope leans against the wall, cocking her head to see your face properly. 

“They seem competent. More than, if my suspicions are correct. They have a relatively good discipline, but are mostly muscle over anything else: their strength is their best attribute, which would probably work for them most the time, but when faced with opponents who have a variable skill set they might struggle. Clearly experienced, and good at what they do. I think, all things considered, this will work quite well.” 

There’s a moment of silence as your team mulls all that over. Jester pipes up. 

“While you were making all your observations and kicking their asses, I saw something too!” His tone turns teasing. “They think you’re cuuuttee- ow!” Crux slammed a pillow into his head. 

“Hey! No fair. Stop laughing!” None of you listen to his protests, and next thing you know, there’s a glorified pillow fight happening.

“So, what do we think of The Misfits? I think this’ll be fun.” Gaz chirps from his bunk. 

“I think that Thanatos is the real deal. The rest of ‘em are good, our level probably, but without their leader, they wouldn’t be anything special per se.” Ghost states matter-of-factly. “And I’m interested to see what the magic of theirs can do.”

“I agree. They used telekinesis, teleportation, hydrokinesis, and anthropokinesis at least. Whether they were enhancing their own abilities, strength, reflexes etc, is unclear. That’s a broad variety.” The team hum at Price’s observation.

“And their tattoos fuckin awesome! I’ve never seen anything like it. Did you see the way it glowed? Goddam!” 

“Jeez Soap, gush about ‘em a little more why dontcha?” 

“Oh shut it bird brain.”

“Quiet down you two. It’s lights out. Sleep, cause tomorrow, we’re going hunting.”

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 10

wc: 1.8k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, previously audrey x ben, mal x ben???? yikes!

warnings: political lore and descendants world building from yours truly lol, I think that's it??? minor angst???

summary: determined to figure out what's going on with ben, you remember that many paws make light work.

song recs: dirty paws - of monsters and men, hartebeest - yaelokre, a world of my own - kathryn beaumont

a/n: HI HELLO DADDIES HELLO MY DADDIES HI HELLO also I started watching it's always sunny and every goddamn thing out of charlie's mouth is a vocal stim. I can't go more than two seconds without going HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY. LOOK AT ME GIVE ME EYES. COOL YOUR JETS. NOW GET OUTTA HERE. I love him.

ALSO!!!!!!!! happy 23rd b-day to meself!!!! does a little jester dance while I simultaneously give a thumbs down from the king chair, opening a trapped door and throwing my jester self into a deep dark pit full of lions and poorly made iced americanos.

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism lmk if I missed you and I'll add you to the tag list yell at me in the notes /j (also my dearest yokolesbianism!!!!! thank you so fuckin much for the feedback!!!!!! based on your tags I assumed you'd wanna be tagged?? just shoot me an ask or message if this is not the case lol <333)

You haven’t given much thought to anything besides your research since it began, but if you had, you suppose you would notice you’ve been holed up in the library for every hour it’s been open for a few days, at least. Each waking moment has been spent pouring through text after text, desperately seeking anything that could prove useful in answering the question of Ben’s behavior. 

The first few books proved to be utterly useless for anything besides sharpening your researching skills. You slam the most recent book closed and lean back in your chair, letting out a sigh of frustration. As much as you hate to admit it - even to yourself - you must begrudgingly admit that you need help. 

You let out another sigh, and stand up. A good long sigh seems to be your only weapon against the inconsolable frustration burbling within you turmoilously. You stretch your aching legs and arms, hoping your blood hasn’t stopped circulating entirely, and throw the window open. You take in a big, deep breath of spring air. 

The scent of gardenia and hibiscus floats along the breeze and into your chest, and you glance down at the flowering culprits below the window. 

Your mind wanders and races in a blurry stumble. There must be some way for you to get information, to get some extra hands on this without getting anyone else directly involved. You never expected to find yourself facing such a fragile, treacherous situation, much less having to navigate it yourself. Without Ben. 

You rub at your aching head, trying to make heads or snails of all this. Your mind reels in a blurry stupor at the dangerous situation your country has found itself in without even realizing this to be the case. You take another big, deep breath. 

“Alright.” You tell yourself with a note of finality, like perhaps if you say it enough things will be just that. Alright. 

There are two heads to this chimera of a situation you’ve found yourself in. Firstly, you have to figure out how to monitor Ben. His words, his actions, if he suddenly decides to shave his head and run about nude. Whatever it is, you must be the first to know. Perhaps if you find a way to stay on top of whatever his next erratic decisions will be, you can find a way to smooth things over, to fix things before they have a chance to snowball wildly out of control. 

The other thing you must consider - arguably, of more importance - is why? Why is he acting like this? As much as you resist confronting the feeling, you can’t shake the sense that this is some sort of political sabotage. It wouldn’t be the first time Ben was caught in the crossfires of political unrest. There was a very tense 8 days when you were both nearly too young to remember where Ben had been kidnapped by a group of radicalist former henchmen. They were convinced that Chernabog was sending them secret messages, and were responsible for the next villain uprising.

This, of course, was untrue and Ben was returned unscathed. The henchmen were understandably sent to the Isle, and Chernabog’s whereabouts are still unknown. There’s some debate over the nature of his crimes, if he’s truly evil or just appears to be scary. You and your mother know right where you stand on the issue - while he appears terrifying, and has incredible amounts of power, you have yet to find any evidence that he wants to cause harm. 

You understand why Overlandians are so quick to fear what they don’t know, but one cannot control their size nor the strength of their power, so your mother has urged the Auradon government to let sleeping gods lie. Besides, Chernabog hasn’t been around for half a century, and won’t be seen for another half century at least, so it’s really the least of anyone’s worries right now. 

You snap from your train of thought, returning to the matter afoot. You must keep tabs on Ben, and find some explanation for why he could be acting like this. You already have so many bites that are far too big, and you have no clue how you’ll chew your way through this by yourself. You’re about to go back when you see a bluebird sitting on the tree branch outside the window. She preens her feathers, enjoying the warm sunlight dappling through the lush green leaves that partially hide her from view. You lean out of the window, your sleeves rippling in the breeze. 

“Excuse me!” You call out. She chirps inquisitively as you get her attention. 

“I do hate to bother you, but I’m stuck in quite a muddling lurch. It’s all quite convoluted you see, and as much as I hate to admit it, I fear I’ve reached a point where I simply don’t have enough hands to handle it all.”

She quirks her head at you, hopping a little closer and lending an ear as you begin to explain the whole kerfuffle. You try to be as concise and clear as you can, but you take after your mother quite well. You get a little sidetracked here or worked up there, and find yourself rambling a great good deal more than you would have liked to. 

By the time you’re just about through with your explanation, you’ve had to pull out a lacy embroidered handkerchief, then soon after, another one for the bluebird. She’s grown quite invested in your woes, and it feels so good to be able to weep wetly over this with someone who shares your feelings. You try in vain to dry your eyes, and she holds her hankie tightly with her feathers, blowing her beak with a loud noise. 

“So you see, this whole thing is quite unusual. I just don’t know what to do, or how to fix things.” You look at her compassionate face, nodding and chirping in sympathy. 

“Do you think…” You begin, “Do you perhaps have any friends that could keep ears and eyes open for anything odd, or relating to all this? If you could possibly keep an ear to the ground - or sky - and let me know if there’s anything unusual, I would be most grateful.”

She nods, tweeting in agreement before you can even finish your proposal. She fluffs her feathers and wrings out your hankie, sprinkling salty tears onto the walkway below and hangs it up on a  branch to dry out. She salutes you, and you wave at her as she flies off to spread the word. 

“Thank you!” You call after her. She chirps back at you, and you watch her land a few trees over, discussing the topic with some other birds in the branches. You grip the windowsill resolutely. This is good. This was a good plan. Animal communication takes a great deal of work on both ends, so as long as no particularly gossipy stoats or chickadees get a hold of this, you’ll be alright. 

Besides, animals generally tend to prefer gossiping with other animals rather than humans. Overlandians never seem to understand the gravitas of the social politics of the forest. Despite the word traveling fast, you can’t shake the feeling you need more. More eyes, more ears, more furry feet and paws and claws spreading the word. You straighten up abruptly, returning to your table. You scribble a hasty note on a piece of paper, and prop it up against your stacks and stacks of useless - in this instance, anyway - books. 

gone for tea, be back in three 

You’re known for ducking in and out for tea now and again, and you’re sure this will come as no surprise to the librarians. You rush down the steps and out of the library, into the grassy courtyard. It feels like forever since you’ve been outside, and you miss leisurely strolls and reading in the dappled sunlight. But regrettably, now is simply not the time for leisure. You walk around for a few minutes, searching and looking until you see a cat lying on a garden wall, bathing in the sun. 

 “I beg your pardon,” you start, and the cat opens one sleepy eye. You take a breath and begin explaining the situation all over again. You’re pleased to find a little bit of the sting is gone this time. Just a little. Soon you have his full attention, and his tail flicks in sympathetic irritation for you, for having gone through all this. 

“So if you could spread the word to some friends, keep me informed on anything you think might prove useful” You ask hopefully. 

He pretends to consider for a moment, then agrees, hopping down from the wall and arching his back in a big stretch. He scurries off to spread the word as you make your way into the gardens for similar reasons. You traipse through the hedge maze, feeling a momentary solace in becoming lost so quickly. Soon you find just what you’re looking for, and after a similar conversation with a mother rabbit, you allow yourself to return to the library. 

You return to your research with more gumption than you had had before. You feel a sense of reassurance - a much needed one, at that - that all these kind animals and their friends and relations had agreed to help you and your cause. Soon after, nearly every cat and rabbit are doing reconnaissance for you. Dozens of bluebirds follow students and linger by windows in hopes of overhearing something useful. With all these ears to the ground and sky, you lose yourself in your fruitless research once again. 

When the words begin to look jumbled and meaningless (and not in the good way) you know you absolutely must call it a day. You close your books and place them neatly in the return cart, scratching out titles from your list of Potentially Helpful Books in your journal. More and more pages have become dedicated to this heart aching mystery, though you have few clues, and fewer leads. You ruminate on this as you begin to head for your dorm, nearly tripping over a speckled rabbit. 

He thumps his foot loudly to get your attention, and you startle. “Oh, hello,” you say apologetically, crouching down to speak with him. You listen intently to what he tells you, your stomach dropping in the early evening light. 

Ben and Mal are on a date at the enchanted lake as you speak. 

[deceit-and-doubt]

@jesterlovescookies has fucking done it again

"welcome folks! To my glorious world of deceit!"

"or something....this script is TERRIBLE.."..

solo blog for @deceit-and-knowledge 's shadow milk

Blog owned by @jesterlovescookies <- please be noted owner is an adult

pure vanilla blog @truth-and-compassion

Information below

Basic DNI (no homophobes, no transphobes, racists, bigots, abelists)

DNI if you dislike shadowvanilla/pureshadow or beast x ancient.

DNI if you're uncomfortable with A/B/O or omegaverse as this smilk is a non traditional omega

blog owner jester is a shadow milk kinnie and finds great comfort in him as a character so please be kind 👉👈 (also be noted blog owner is autistic so your message may occasionally be misinterpreted just be clear with what you mean) (also you can interact with the owner, I use he/they pronouns if you wanna know)

alot of shadow milk's interests and behaviour in this au is totally not projecting my uber autism onto him and love for shiny rocks

No I cannot explain shipping shadowvanilla as an smilk kinnie, no we don't talk about the ship art of my kinsona with pv 👁️👁️

"it's pretty simple! The rules of this game is "don't be rude.. we'll ignore you.. you're just an attention seeker anyway. Heh!.. unless it's for the sake of story.."

2. "roleplaying as your own character, child or adult is fine. Cookie ocs are alright too!"

3. "Please be kindly noted I have mental health conditions, sooo if I'm a little hot headed, too hyperactive for your liking, easily distracted, emotional or whatever.. it's those silly things! Don't ask me for the names of them, I haven't seen a doctor and never intend to!" <- autistic, has emotional control issues and sanity problems

"I'm also genderfluid. Soooo if you wish I can be your girly or your king! Obviously that's not EXACTLY how it works.. but you know! <- uses he/she

4. "nothing too not kid friendly, we have to please the whole audience! Some cookies don't like it when you clearly need some alone time~" (aka suggestive asks are okay but nothing too down horrendous)

5. "responses are as in character as possible! Even this is in character! I am running this little show after all!"

6. "this is set in an alternate universe where I, shadow milk cookie am in pure vanilla cookie's care and currently I live with him and he's my sweet doll!...or in simple terms we're dating.. he's my boyfriend.. *grumbles*" (refer to @deceit-and-knowledge for the basic of the story)

7. "blog owner who forces me to answer these silly silly fan mail letter things does have a life so he's and I'm sorry if we don't immediately get to you, HAVE SOME PATIENCE! Though we will try.."

8. "the reason for this blogs creation is so no one interrupts me! I'll even answer things I normally wouldn't because nilly or my minions might hear me! No truth serum needed! Seriously quit giving me that stuff......it's irritating..."

9. "you can be anonymous and ask me things if you so wish! If you send your... Wonderful art... bleh..and don't want to expose your identity, we'll snip your name off the letter! Or if you accidentally send a letter with your identity. However if you send it to the wrong mailbox we can't help you. ALSO me opening up my own personal mailbox doesn't mean I don't accept messages on my main one.." <- aka smilk can be contacted here or on @deceit-and-knowledge

10. "now here's one for other cookies that want to interact with moi! Before we interact through this system called "reblogs" please just message the gnat that forces me to do this either by this blogs messages or his main blog. This is reminding me of black sapphire cookie's blogging career he's a little shy.. otherwise he doesn't tell me so I'll never know! Oh and he nice, you'll definitely get ignored! If you have questions he's your guy. ....or y'know you could send a letter asking him to answer since he's the one that checks the letters sent my mail box" (aka on this blog smilk will reply in character via reblogs but before you do it just message either via DMs or the inbox. I'm very socially anxious sorry, just gimme a brief ^^' <- new to rp and shy sorry

"well that's it! Anything else you need to know don't be afraid to ask!

Also~ i am quite the muse, so you may be treated to my own writing!" (This blog will contain diary entries, writing stuff and art by me/"smilk" on occasion)

[poetryandfluffycats]

Quiz time!

A/N: took a small break but im back and im writing bungo fics. hope you enjoy

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Warnings: dark content, kidnapping, mentions of animal violence, mentions of human violence, implied abuse

Content: Nikolais been keeping you trapped in his basement for 3 weeks now. What does he have in store for you today? You have no idea

Words: 1.0k

Oneshot under cut!

"Oh darling! I'm home!"

The infamous voice of Nikolai Gogol shot through the basement, followed by the sound of his leather shoes creaking against the stairs. My head snapped up from its place on the pillow, watching him with wide eyes as he descended to the bottom of the staircase. The jester had a smile on his face, seeming all too giddy about... something. What that something was, I had no idea.

He was quick to skip over to me, looming over my curled up form under the covers, a hand buried deep into the abyss of his coat. He pulled out a bouquet of pink roses, shoving them under my nose. "For you, my dove" he purred, his voice dripping like sickly sweet honey.

I took them, albeit hesitantly, and examined them with a cautious eye. They were pretty, a light, pastel pink color with a white ribbon tied around the stems, and smelt like heaven. A sweet-but not too strong-floral scent that reminded me of the spring time. It was a nice gift, no one could deny that, but knowing Nikolai...

There had to be some type of ulterior motive.

"Pretty..." I murmured, holding the flowers close to my chest. "Thank you..."

I hadn't spoken much since I got here, only ever really muttering a word or two to keep him satisfied. He talked enough for the both of us, anyway, or at least that's what he had said when my lack of words first was noticed by him.

"Only the best for my sweetest dove! Now, come come, what shall we do today? You're probably just dying to have some fun, right? Aha! I know!" Before I could fully understand anything he had said, Nikolai pulled the covers back and lifted me in his arms, carrying me bridal style as he twirled around the basement.

"Quiz time!"

Quiz time. His way of asking personal questions on the justification that it was 'just a game' and 'there's no need to be shy". Sometimes he'd throw in random questions about Ukrainian literature, to which I almost never got right. I think that maybe he thought that asking a few general questions among all the pervy, personal ones would make me more comfortable, or less likely to catch on to the real meaning behind his game. It didn't.

I hated Quiz time.

Nikolai plopped me down on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of me. His teeth showed as his lips curled upwards into a toothy grin, head tilted to the side and eyes blown wide. Maybe that's just how he always looked.

"Question 1! What is your favorite color?"

It was such a simple question, childish even. Something a teacher would ask their preschoolers on the first day of school. Yet, it made my throat close up, heat beating faster and faster as the seconds ticked by. What was my favorite color? Did I even have one anymore? What was the point in having a favorite color if I was trapped down here?

"Uh..." I stuttered, eyes flickering around the room. Anywhere was better than Nikolais cold, mismatched eyes. "Purple... b-but I also like red"

Nikolai clapped his hands together, a high pitched squeal leaving his lips. "Wonderful! Gosh you are just too cute, I might simply combust! But then you'd be stuck cleaning my brains off the wall which I don't think you'd like very much, so I'll refrain for you, my darling"

Cleaning brains off the walls? He said it so casually, like it was a normal passtime for him. Was it? Probably.

"Question 2! What is your favorite animal?"

This one was easy enough, and a small smile creeped onto my face as I answered. "Kittys, I have a few at home. They're the best little guys"

My heart ached at the thought of my fur babies. How long had they gone without food or water? Without being pat or doted on? Did they miss me? Had someone taken them in or were they sitting at the window waiting for my return?

Would I return?

Nikolai squealed again, his smile growing impossibly wider, the tips of his lips nearly touching his ears. "Cats are adorable! So fluffy and cute and squishy! I would just love to squeeze them until their little heads popped off!"

He suddenly scooted closer to me, the space between us slowly decreasing until our knees knocked together. He brought his fingers up to my cheeks, pinching them as if I was a baby. "Just like you! Squish, squish, squish! So damn cute"

Our noses bumped together as he leaned in closer, those cold eyes hyper-focused on my lips. I felt like I might hurl as his hands trailed down from my cheeks to my waist, his fingernails digging into the flimsy fabric of the nightgown he forced me into my first day here. This was wrong. So, so wrong.

"Please" I whined, tears threatening to spill at any second. "Please don't"

I had been so lucky the past 3 weeks with him not touching me, not with sexual intent anyway. No kissing, no touching, no... sex. Nothing. He would ask his stupid questions, force me to play his stupid games, and lay with me in bed at night, but that was it. But now, it seemed my luck had finally run out.

"Question 3!" Nikolais voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down my spine. "Now, dove, this is the last question, so make sure you pay extra attention, mkay?"

Not like I had a choice.

"Who do you love the most in this whole wide world?"

There was only answer to that question. Only one answer he wanted, anyway. I had learned the hard way what the consequences of getting it 'wrong' were. It was so degrading, humiliating, dehumanising even, the punishment he had given me for answering with the wrong person. I wasn't keen to go through that again.

"You, Nikolai. I love you the most" I sounded robotic, like a puppet. Which in reality, I kind of was. Just a little puppet in his clown show.

"Correct! 3 for 3, you're so smart! Now, for the reward"

And then, his chapped, cracked, messily painted lips were on mine. It wasn't recpirocated, it wasn't even pleasant. It was gross, slimy, wet like a fish. Maybe I could pretend I was making out with a fish. That would've been million times better than this bullshit.

I hated it.

I hated him.

I hated myself.

[doodlemsstuff]

‼️‼️Spoilers ‼️‼️for the fifth episode of TADC! I wanted to write something about Ray spilling some lore in the bar scene. Peepaw infodumps abt his dope past. Also now just realizing Gangle and Kinger don’t have any lines of dialogue- well. Rip. Bearson mention —> @nixpainting

“-Aaaand there’s no point in asking Kinger ‘cause there’s no way he remembers anything.” Jax remarked, his pupils focusing on the person next to the chess piece, Ray. “What about you? Grandpa?”

“Hm? Me?” “Yeah you! Or- you too. I guess.” He said, vaguely wagging his finger at the shorter gentleman, Bearson. “Though we’ve heard him say he used to go to war or some junk-“ “Ah was in the military!” Bearson interrupted. “Yeah. We know.” The rabbit retorted. “But I don’t think you’ve said much about what you did.” “Oh! Well- it ain’t brought up much cuz it wasn’t asked much!” The monkey said. “Well, I’m asking now.” Jax replied bluntly. “What’s your deal?”

“… well. I have been slightly curious about that too.” Ragatha(as much as he hates agreeing with Jax right now)shyly admitted. “From how long I’ve known you. You’ve been like- surprisingly flexible and- athletic? And I’ve just realized I don’t- really know much about you- heheh-“ Ragatha said, chuckling hesitantly. Today is clearly not her day.

Ray is normally the guy that would answer anything given to him. Even if he didn’t fully know the answer. But he was.. a bit quiet. Stunned is too big of a word- but he did feel a bit of shyness and stage fright seeing everyone staring at him, curiously. It’s very unlike of him. This sudden trait Bearson picked up quickly. “Ahh- Ray don’t gotta say nuthin’ if he don’t want too.” The Bear spoke up in defense for his friend. “No pressure, Ray.” Zooble reassured. “We’re just curious.”

“Nah-nah-nah I get it.” Ray said. “I don’t talk about me much! New Orleans- yeah but not me!” Ray’s hands slowly fidgeted with the stem of his wine glass. “I guess I jus’ don’t know what to say! Um..” The monkey pondered. Tracing the rim of his glass. Trying to search through memories not circus related can be difficult. Especially finding ones that aren’t very personal or ones that are just- age appropriate.

“Mmm… nuthin’ much to read ‘bout me. Um… I used to be apart of a circus troupe when I wus’ younger” “wait- like- an actual- circus-circus?” The jester interrupted. “Like with a tent and everything?!” Jax asked. Entertained by this new information. “Yeah! I wus’ a contortionist. An’ occasionally an acrobat. Mostly for when I wus’…. I think yer’ age, Jax.” Jax’s eyes lit up. “Woaaah! Look at G-paw over here! Think you could do a cartwheel in the air?” Jax teased. But Ray only chuckled at Jax’s enthusiasm. “I dunno. Been a while- heheh!” Ray entertained. The bar stared slightly in awe and intrigued over the monkey man.

“Then I jus’ traveled when I wus’ done with my circus life.” “Wait- you left your circus life?” The rabbit asked. Majorly disappointed. “… I wus’ gettin’ old an’ I wanted to do sumthin’ different!” “Boo. That’s boring.” “B-but! What you shared with us was really interesting about you, Ray!” Ragatha interjected. “Yeah! It… explains a lot on how you can do the things you do.” Pomni added.

“See? This was a WAYY better story than what ol’ Kinger could have provided.” Just as how quickly the topic became on Ray, it just as the same switched onto something different. As Ray turned to face his best friend. Bearson looked up at him with a raised brow. “You didn’t tell meh you were apart of the circus.” “I didn’t?” “No. Ye’ jus’ said you traveled a loot. Mostly pickin’ up an’ droppin’ off things.” “Oh! Well… now I did.” Ray sheepishly answered. Taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage and looking away to face the commotion of the others.

Although the bear did feel… a bit hurt. Ray doesn’t owe him his life story. Bearson knows this. But it did sting to have someone you’re so close with purposely not share this information with just… you.

… Bearson will be fine. He has some skeletons himself he doesn’t want Ray to know. It’s… fine. The bear convinced himself. Plus it’s about time for him to speak.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

This is super self indulgent buuut I like to think that shadow milk used to worm his way into the kingdoms he manipulated by being a jester or as an advisor so imagine this with a reader insert! Shadow milk just doing his thing when he sees the reader (could be anyone maid,princess etc) and thinks they are a perfect source for information but slowly starts to fall in love with them! And by the end he makes the reader watch as the kingdom they live in falls. Anyways hope you have a great day!

Requested Prompts #6 - 💓✙

TW - Mentions of violence, cannibalism

.

Everything was going perfectly, nobody knew him as more than the Court Jester, nobody could even guess that it was him stirring up the discord within the royal court. They only knew Blueberry Milkshake Cookie, the silly court jester who always kept one of his eyes covered. He was much, much more than just a Court Jester though. And he could tell that you knew that. So, his first thought was to get you... Out of the way. He quickly reconsidered that after seeing you behead an assassin cookie with your own bare hands. So, then came plan b, using you as a source of information. As the next in line to be Crowned in this kingdom of secrets, then surely you would hold some rather valuable information that he could use to further his own agenda. But of course, even then you were holding back on him. You were a locked treasure chest of secrets, and he was trapped in a room full of keys trying to find the one that was just right. Shouldn't he have abandoned this by now? Well, he hated to admit it, but he'd fallen in love with you. Hard and fast like a blazing meteor on a crash course into the planet. And then, came the day you revealed one of your secrets to him. " I hate this kingdom," You had said bitterly, bringing a surprised look to his face. " Hating your own kingdom, my liege?" He teased with a sly grin, not having believed you at first. " My apologies, but I thought that I was supposed to be the jokester here!-" " Blueberry Milkshake Cookie," You said sternly, and he watched as you turned to glare at him. " I'm being serious." He shut his mouth, these were your secrets, he'd finally found the key and gotten you to open up to him. Surely he wouldn't have to deal with this... love he'd developed for you after, right? " This kingdom is built upon lies, but I'm sure you knew that already." You walked up to him, hands finding their way under his arms to lift him up off his feat so the two of you could be at eye level. " Haven't you ever wondered why myself and my family are this powerful?" His heart was doing loop-de-loops, such as it always did when you showed off like this. " I have, yes." He answered. " It's because we eat other cookies, and I hate the fact that we do." You hissed out, biting your tongue to keep quiet and hushed. " You know those private executions? They're taking those Cookies to a slaughterhouse, some of them haven't even done anything wrong and yet they're being slain like livestock." You crouch down so his feet are touching the floor again while you get on your knees. " I despise this castle, my family, and everyone who let this continue to happen. I wish that my kingdom would be completely and utterly destroyed so that nobody will have to know what suffering went on here." Oh, he didn't expect that. He could see the tears of anger brimming in your eyes, he didn't like that expression on your face. So why not replace it with one of your better ones? Such as your elusive smile? His own expression twisted into a gleeful grin. " Aw~ Don't worry my dear, I'll be sure to make your wish come true~" He cooed, wiping your tears of frustration away with a wave of his hand. " What do you mean?" You had eventually asked him after a moment of silence. The confused expression on your face- not what he was going for, but he'd take it anyways- was just so adorable~ " Eheh he he he heh~ Oh, you'll just have to wait for my last performance, the one in three days time." He chuckled, slipping out of your hold and walking towards the door. " However, I do advise you get yourself out of the kingdom before then, Reader Cookie~ Ta ta for now~" On the inside, he cackled wildly... Not out loud of course, that'd get him found out. He hoped that you would head his warning, after all he didn't want you getting crumbled in the cross fire.

....

Might make a a part 2 for this one, mainly in Reader Cookie's POV about finding out that Shadow Milk was blueberry all along.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

The True Villain(?)

@boots-with-the-fur-club @tmntaucompetition

Prev | Next

Luke grabbed the half-spored turtle by his shirt collar and hoisted him up once again.

"Hey!" LeonAudro protested, kicking slightly in midair.

"At least I'm not holding you by your throat again," Luke growled. "But I'd be more than happy to fix that..."

"Okay okay, sheesh! Whaddya want from me?!" LeonAudro yelled. "I can't help with the fear stuff!"

"You could still show me some scary images," Luke reminded.

"But that's about it!" LeonAudro insisted. "I can't try to control this evil dude you're up against, I can barely control my own powers!"

"What happened to you?" Luke questioned. "What happened to the fear fungus?"

"Will you put me down first?" LeonAudro asked.

"Not if you run away again."

"Who, me?" LeonAudro joked, a half-hearted nervous laugh following the statement. "No way. I think we've already established that I can't really outrun you, anyway."

Luke grumbled low before setting down the turtle.

"Thank you," he sighed, dusting himself off and taking the jester hat off as well. "And maybe next time show some manners? You do realize that I'm not actually a villain, right? I'm just a puppet? Well, usually..."

"What do you mean, 'usually'?" Luke demanded. "What's going on with you and the hive mind?"

LeonAudro exhaled and slunk down onto the floor, legs crossed as he pouted.

"I dunno, guy. Maybe the fungus is overworked, exhausted -- I mean, a competition, a zombie apocalypse, a camping family reunion thing, and then another competition! I'd be pretty exhausted too, wouldn't you?"

"Are you joking right now?" Luke growled. "Because it sounds like you're joking. And I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"Sorry, default mode," LeonAudro chuckled nervously. "It's how I cope. But for real, I'm not entirely sure what's going on. Donnie thinks -- AudreyTello, I mean -- he thinks that we're slowly becoming immune."

"Immune?"

"Yeah. You spend enough time around your fears, eventually they don't scare you anymore. AudreyTello thinks that it's possible we've gotten so used to the spore's effects and stuff that it doesn't hold as much power over us, and we might be..." LeonAudro's voice trailed off.

"Might be what?" Luke grilled.

"...Becoming more powerful than the spores. We might be retaining some of Audrey III's power. Which explains why I can show you scary pictures but I'm not part of the hive. At least, not entirely."

"So, you are in the hive?"

"Kinda. It's weird, it feels kind of like not being invited to a meeting but still getting the memos, y'know?"

"No. I don't know."

LeonAudro rolled his eyes and sighed, bringing his knees closer to his chest.

"Whatever, dude. You don't have to be such a grumpy jerk --"

"You said that your Donnie is here?" Luke asked. "At the compound?"

"I dunno, maybe," LeonAudro sighed. "But he probably wouldn't be much more help than I am if he's experiencing the same thing as me."

"Well, who could we turn to?" Leatherhead asked, as he began pacing around. He was more so asking himself that then the half-spored Leo, but the turtle teen answered regardless.

"Maybe someone who isn't immune to the fear fungus? Get them all spored up? Oh! Like those Until I Found you guys or something! We did a whole thing with them last time!"

"They're out doing their own thing, last I heard," Leatherhead sighed. "Besides, they've all been totified and I don't think forcing kids to become fear-riddled zombies is morally okay in this situation."

"Oh right, I forgot that happened," LeonAudro sighed, flopping down and laying sprawled out in defeat. "Soooo... Plan A and Plan B are a bust. What are the specs on Plan C?"

"What Plan C?" Luke bemoaned. "Who on earth would be willing to help us with this?"

"Ahem."

Luke and LeonAudro turned and saw -- you guessed it -- the Hand.PNG.

"Oh look, it's my favourite harbinger of doom," LeonAudro joked. "Come to poison us? Or offer us a deal?"

"The latter, actually. I do hope I'm not becoming predictable."

"It's a hand," Luke whispered to himself. "A severed hand is talking to me. I've officially lost my mind."

"Don't be so dramatic; it's not your mind that we need lost," the Hand.PNG stated.

"Huh?"

"Luke has inadvertently solved your Krang problem retroactively by creating the spore problem you are facing now."

"...HUH?"

"Leonardo is no longer the representative of the Fear Fungus due to his immunity to the spores," the hand explained. "But worry not. Luke has found another vessel for us."

The two teens stared at one another before turning back to the appendage.

"Care to repeat that?"

The hand sighed and pointed behind them.

"Boys, meet the new face of the Fear Fungus: Agent John Bishop of the EPF."

...

[A few days prior...]

"Hello, Agent Bishop here. Please be advised that the TCRI-EPF have misplaced a mutant creature under the name 'Mikey'. It is extremely dangerous. Do not hesitate to contact me or my associates if you have any information on Mikey's whereabouts. Thank you."

Okay, the speech sounded stuffy, sure. But it was the best he could do to make sure that he stayed neutral. He'd been getting odd looks from everyone at the competition, even alternate dimensional versions of himself. He wondered why... In any case, he figured the best thing was to lay low, keep it simple. He'd ended up here, he had no idea who else was here. What if Dr. Finn was here? Or Dr. Timothy? Or anyone from the TCRI? He had to keep it cool and professional, just in case someone was working for the wrong people.

But he seemed to meet the wrong people regardless.

John Bishop had just shown the poster and given the speech to a crocodile mutant. The croc gave an odd glare at him, then pointed to a cave. (What was a cave doing in this place?)

"I saw him run after someone into that cave! You need to hurry!"

Bishop turned on his heels, nodded at the mutant, and ran towards the strange grotto.

It was cold, and dark. Stalactites and stalagmites littered the tunnel, neon blue speckles dotted all across the musty and dank stones. They glowed brightly, and the closer he went the brighter they seemed to glow. He went deeper into the cave. It grew colder and colder, until he could see his own breath. Bishop wondered how deep this thing went, and how far Mikey had gone into it! It was far too cold, he couldn't be too deep in here. Or maybe he'd gone to deep and his brumation took over before he could escape! Bishop continued into the cave, the walls slowly turning from stone to fuzzy with fungus and moss. A few glowing toadstools led the way. Bishop could almost swear a few of the mushrooms had eyes...

He turned a corner and saw him.

"Mikey!" Bishop called, his teeth chattering softly. "There you are! C'mon, let's get you out of here and back to your family..."

Mikey didn't move.

"...Mikey?"

The teenager turned to stare blankly at the man. His face was scarred almost beyond recognition, a metal collar bound his neck. He was bloody and bruised, and looked like he'd been crying.

"But I'm already with my family," Mikey answered. "Because of you."

The room lit up, revealing three other cages with mutated and mangled versions of the other turtles. Leo, Donnie, and Raph. They howled and hooted and cowered from him.

"What?" Bishop gasped, backing away. "No, no, that's not what happened -- I didn't -- I wouldn't --"

Bishop bumped into something as he tried to back away. He turned and saw an old man, bleeding to death on the floor as a small robot stood beside him.

"Y-you... caused... this...." Professor Honeycutt rasped. "We w-were sup-posed to... save them... not... capture... them..."

"No!" Bishop gasped, falling to his knees as he cradled his dying friend. "No!"

"John... y-you promised me... it would be alright... W-why did you... lie..."

The old man went limp, his eyes had gone grey and lifeless. John couldn't breath, his hands shook as the blood stained him.

John looked up in fear, tears stinging his eyes as he fought to keep them where they were and not streak down his face. He was no longer in the cave, he was in the TCRI labs. People were in chains. Being electrocuted. Beaten to stay in line. Dragged off to rooms for interrogations. Mutants and Yokai alike were thrown into cages and prepared for execution and experimentation.

A young man with long dark hair was being forcibly dragged, kicking and screaming. He turned and locked eyes with Bishop, fury and fear mixing across his face as he screamed.

"I TRUSTED YOU!" Casey Jones Jr. shouted. "I trusted you to help me! Instead you betrayed us! I should have known, you were a villain! YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN THE VILLAIN!! You can't be redeemed!!"

Bishop stood up, running to the boy.

"No, no! I never did this, I'm not the bad guy! I've been trying to make things right! I know I made mistakes, but --"

"You can't undo the mistakes you made," Casey spat. "You will always be guilty. Always the villain."

A hand fell on Bishop's shoulder and gently pulled him back. John slowly turned to face his former employer.

"Don't look so blue," Dr. Chaplin said with a smile. "You did excellent work."

"N-no..." he whispered, the tears finally falling loose. "No... no, I couldn't do this... I didn't... I'm not a bad guy..."

"You're right," Chaplin said, a sick grin crossing his face. "You're THE bad guy."

Bishop stared in shock as the face of Chaplin contorted. The eyes were bright yellow, glowing with blue pupils. Tendrils like roots started to seep through his face, his arms reaching out and wrapping around the former agent as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"And lucky for you, I need a good villain for my story to continue..."

Prev | Next

[an-au-blog]

Yo your Shuggy King/ Jester AU is such a good take and I swear to everything holy i'd do unspeakable things to get more of it! Like like like --- like, what if Buggy's not even a jester and was really some third rate theif there to steel some expense trinket or another at some feast and he gets caught beacuse hes a pretty shit third rate thief and just somehow got lucky that the right door was unlocked somewhere but now these folks are ushering him in to entertain the king and his aristocratic asshole friends and he doesnt know what to do!!!! He should have just stuck to picking pockets at taverns and now he's in front of the king and -- wow, OK, so the king is kind of hot? -- nothepoint!!! -- they're all looking at him and he just... the feast turns into a roast and it's so unhinged and also a commentary on all the shit buggy really feels about these rich stuck up assholes and the king is dying from laughing so hard so he just... keeps going? And then he is asked to stay on full time and, sure, why not? Beats the streets any day and plus hes closer to treasure and can just buy his time and strike it rich but then he gets legit invested because don't these assholes know what the people need? What they want? 1 guess and the first one is already wrong because apparently everyone has their heads so far up their asses that they can't see the real issues in the kingdom so he accidentally speaks out of turn and totally out of place but the king, like, listens? He's listening to him. He's taking Buggy's advice and... oh shit... he might be in love now....

Ohhhh you did not just spike my interest back into an au that flopped like a month ago

This is sooo... I'm speechless because yes??? yes please!?!?

Also hi, sorry it took me a little to answer, i try to answer asks in order of who sent one first ':)

Buggy never stops taking small things. Trinkets no one in the castle would miss. But such trinkets outside the castle go for quite some berry. Unfortunately for him, some of the guards caught wind of what he was doing so they start following him around. He meets up with his friends and heist buddies on the outside, selling and buying and they see it all.

He still had connections that only multiplied once he got to in the palace.

One day they practically throw Buggy in King Shanks's feet and started listing all the accusations he was very rightfully blamed about and he thinks that was it. He was going to die because liked the weight of money in his pockets.

And the King is furious. He's shouting and spitting venom. No one had seen him this angry in a while, or maybe even ever. But the most shocking thing was that he was angry at the guards who caught Buggy. He claimed that Buggy was sent by him personally into the city to scout out the common folk. After all how could he know what the people need and lack if he can't leave the castle. He tels them he doesn't need such incompetent and naive people in his guard but he'll send them off with just a warning.

He was talking so convincingly that even Buggy started believing him.

When the doors close and it's just them, Shanks falls to his knees to inspect Buggy for any injuries.

The king is in his royal garments, the ones that probably cost ten times more than what he stole through the whole week. And he's just sitting there, worrying because Buggy's elbow got scratched when he was tossed in the marble floors.

After a good amount of time, Buggy still getting away with way too much, decides to test the limits. A lot had changed since the first time they met. But Buggy was still convinced that there was no way an attractive, powerful and charismatic king like Shanks was genuinely interested in a jester who only tells him what to do and steals from him. And for what? What was Buggy giving in return? Criticized the court and sneak around. Sure they messed around sometimes but the king could have a dozen way more beautiful women at his feet in a second if he wished so. So why?

One night, he feels ballsy and takes a knife into their bed. He hides it under his pillow and waits for the right time to come. He thinks that him and the king had gotten their lines so blurred that Shanks didn't notice the knife, but it wasn't true. Because when it happens nothing changes.

Buggy was fast. The king was already curled up in him, so it took only one motion for the jester to straddle him and put the knife up to his throat.

Shanks was smiling. His hands still running up and down his thighs. And the jester is so confused. If he pushed a bit harder he was sure he would have drawn blood. So why? "Why aren't you scared of me?Why do you keep me around?"

To which the answer sounded so simple it almost didn't register in Buggy's mind. "Because I relish in your presence. And you have my favor." He put his hand on the one holding the knife. "I know you won't kill me..." it wasn't arrogance. It wounded more like comfort.

Because of course he wouldn't. If he did, what would he do? He'd have nowhere to go. And the people would get some snot-nosed brat who would ruin the country. Where would he run? Who would he reside in? Who would love him like this?

Buggy didn't know how but he ended up crying in his king's arms that night. Worst part was - it was the most comforting place the jester had ever been to.

Idk something like that, I probably missed something I wanted to add but oh well

[aceinacloset]

KATHERINE!

Opinion on William basing Ballora off of you?

How does it make you feel that your gay awakening was about Ballora?

Katherine, how did William murder you, if your comfortable with me asking?

Jester/someone else with the answer, where did the Springlock suit Mike was trapped in originate from? I remember (CANON SISTER LOCATION) Circus Baby saying something about how it wasn't used as it was meant to be used during night four when she hid Mike away. Is it congruent with your AU? In my AU it was from Fredbear's Diner.

also, Circus Baby, what was the original plan, had Funtime Foxy not jumpscared Mike?

okay so I remember reading one of the fright stories about uhm... the minireenas like.. body horroring some guy? Like parasited him and climbed inside of him. Is that canon here? I don't see how it would be if the Minireenas are the height of toddlers.

Oooh, a big one, *cracks fingers* alright let's do this

Katherine: I was slightly flattered to hear William based one of his characters on my likeness. When I saw his first concept, I was kinda confused on why the boob's were so big

I have barely any chest, sooooo

.

Katherine: *groaning sigh* Don't remind me, I find it embarrassing that my awakening was from one of my husband's machines, let alone one he based off of ME. I hate that my standards had gotten THAT low.

.

Katherine: he swung an axe into my neck.

.

The springlock suit was made by William (early concept) it lacks any character defining features and is entirely unusable and really dangerous. It was planned for Circus Baby's Pizaa World but was never completed and just rots in storage.

.

Circus Baby: Eggs was supposed to leave and come back the next night for more parts and service work (on foxy), the fact Liz and I were able to salvage a plan B over that mess is impressive, I guess.

.

Something like that does happen, won't spoil it but I will give a hint.

'So, funny story, a dead body was found in this vent once. Ok, it's not that funny, but it's a story.'

[askthe-r-m-au]

Oh golly gee willakerz! It's that time again!!

I can't write for shi-

Also finally this is the part where Voz is introduced so I can answer some things about his existence-

[The Ring-Misstress | Chapter 3: The project]

There was about 1 more day until the big launch of The Amazing Digital Circus computer game. The recently promoted Co-Ringmaster had lay awake in her bed the night before. All this combined with the constant looming need of an exit was a whole lotta pressure. It's probably the exact opposite on Caine's end...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Within the circus walls, outside of bounds was Caine. He, too, had been up all night (but for a few more reasons). They had much less time than he thought they would. He may have to continue adding the finishing touches throughout the week. Hopefully, it shouldn't be too much trouble. I mean, he does have Pomni to help him and- POMNI! HE'D NEARLY FORGOTTEN TO WAKE HER UP!

The ringmaster quickly pulled out his WackyWatch.

☆Ah, it's only been 5 minutes...☆

☆5 MINUTES!?!☆

Gadzooks, he'd better hurry if they wanted time to prepare for tomorrow.

Making his way towards her door, he couldn't help but realize. After the other day, he'd felt awfully strange. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity of Bubble not being there. He'd never thought that he could ever let a virus in under his watchful eyes. How long had Bubble been like that? Had he just gotten infected by something sometime before or something else? Something about his absence made him uneasy...

Buuuuut now was not a good time to think about all that! He couldn't spend time thinking about such silly things when they had such important matters!! He had such to to and- Okayy... get ahold of yourself, Caine! What is wrong with you today??

He took a quick breath and reached his hand to the door (witch was very shaky when did that happen???).

Okay... you can do this...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

☆GOOD MORNING, POMNI!!☆

Pomni jumped from her bed, startled at the fact that Caine actually used the door for once. Not that she minded.

♧Oh- uh- morning, Caine... wh-♧

The ringmaster cut her off impatiently.

☆COME NOW MY DEAR FRIEND! WE HAVE LOTS TO DO TODAY!! WE HAVE A VERY BIG DAY TOMORROW!! NO TIME TO WASTE!☆

♧Huh? Hold on, what're you-♧

She looked up at Caine and back down at herself, recalling the last few days' events.

♧Oh... alright, one sec.♧

☆Great!! Meet me out here. I have something I wanna show you!!☆

She grabbed her hat and cane, sitting on a small shelf next to her bed, and headed out to where Caine said he'd be.

♧Alright... what's up?♧

☆I'm glad you asked!! See, I've been working on this for a while now, and I thought it'd be great if we could work together to finish up on my most recent project!!☆

He snapped his fingers, and in front of Pomni stood a little model. Closely resembling her old jester outfit, but more green instead of red, except for the additional party hat. Which was also lined with teeth?? Eh, it makes sense if Caine designed it.

Other than that, he looked... rather adorable. The little guy opened his eyes, taking in his new surroundings as Caine began to speak.

☆This little Fella is Voz. Or a V.irtual O.ffspring Z.imulation!☆

♧Wait, doesn't that start with a- nevermind...♧

☆I know, I know, it just rolled off the tongue more. Aaaaanyway, this little guy will be able to get along with the other players, as well as help the rest of us with minor tasks! Or, yaknow, just do other kid stuff.☆

♧Such as..?♧

☆A- well, let's ask him!! Cmon, little buddy, say hello!☆

Voz took a big gasp of air before attempting to speak. Except his words came out all glitchy and distorted. You could hardly make out what he was saying.

[H- h- ɛl·l -o¿ -lo-?]

Voz covered his mouth, and another tiny gasp escaped. Pomni looked at Caine in confusion.

☆Heheh... so maybe he can't speak... b-but that's where YOU come in!! Your job is to help program him, you can start by giving him a voice!☆

Pomni looked down at Voz then back up at Caine.

♧Well how? I don't even know what he's supposed to sound like.♧

☆Well... what do YOU think he sounds like??☆

Pomni thought for a second. She thought long and hard. She hardly remembered anything about children herself. She turned to look at Voz one more time.

[...hello?]

Out came the voice of a little boy, around 6 or 7.

He gasped and covered his mouth again. But this time in surprise rather than shame.

Pomni's eyes lit up. It actually worked.

♧Hey-♧

Caine flew in right beside Pomni, nearly shoving into her.

☆Welcome to the circus, little fella!! I'm your creator Caine, and this is your Co-creator, Pomni!☆

Caine gestured towards himself, and then his Co-host.

Voz Looked at the two standing together. First Caine, then Pomni. Caine, then Pomni. Caine, Pomni. He softly spoke up once again.

[...Papa? Mama?]

The pair looked awkwardly at each other then back at the child infront of them.

☆Oh my stars how could I forget? These things adapt to the first thing they see.☆

♧Huh??♧

☆I'm pretty sure that's a kid thing, just go with it.☆

She looked back down at Voz, who stared back, anticipating an answer.

♧I... yaknow what? Sure. Just- you can call us that.♧

He looked up at his "Parents" with huge eyes. His smile almost stretched all across his face. He didn't need to say anything for the two to know he meant "thank you".

♧Heh, you're very welcome-♧

Before she could finish, Voz ran up to the both of them and hugged their legs.

Pomni and Caine accepted his embrace. Looking down at their new project, all that dead from before? Was gone.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hectic after all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

RAH OMAIGOSH IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET BACK INTO WRITING THIS-

I procrastinated alot-

Expect chapter 4 in like...

20 years

Anyway yall know the drill, ask them stuff, ask ME stuff, and... uh-

Bye-bye

[lunar-inkclipse]

Soooo I noticed you mention needing three more Murdle OCs along with Rio…and also you asked if Carbon had been used for a character yet (it hasn’t, I would know, I can probably look at any color and tell you if it’s been used for a suspect yet, yes I DO have a problem :P /j)…

What I’m saying is, *pulls up chair* mind telling us a bit about whatever OCs you have in mind? 👀

*pulls up chair with you* I'm always happy to talk about the OCs I have cooking up!! (Also you're so incredibly real for that, I'm that way about Murder Drones XD)

Biochemist Carbon (Nickname Cari)

5'3, Black Hair, Brown Eyes, Right Handed, Scorpio Currently pursuing her PhD, her knowledge is great, but her temper sure isn’t. There’s a lot of rumors that chemical byproducts aren’t the only things she’s “disposing off” as a result.

Cari is 26, and her wardrobe consists of nothing but bootcut jeans, sneakers/Docs, and either nice polos (typically grey, white, or light blue) or Rio's merch (She could not care less if they suffer a chemical spill). She's also got a black lab coat and tiny hexagon shaped stud earrings. Her hair is cut short, and she also has a pair of silver glasses under her lab goggles. I like to think she and Rio are roommates, and despite their wildly different personalities, they're pretty good friends. (Just friends, mind- Cari thinks Rio is a pain in the neck (deserved) and Rio just doesn't really get crushes? He'll read into that one day.) And hey, it's nice to have a charismatic, persuasive guy swear up and down you were home all day and not committing murders, or have someone with a degree in writing look over your lab reports. And it's nice to have a gal who will answer your suspicious questions about what acids are best at destroying evidence or the limits of the human body, or to make sure you adhere to deadlines for that sponsorship deal.

Circus Clown Cerise

5'4, Red Hair, Brown Eyes, Left Handed, Virgo

Yes, that is her real job. Yes, it makes enough money. And yes, her treatment of hecklers is no laughing matter.

Okay, so her character concept came from a few things: A) I've tried my hand at clown/jester styled characters many years ago and had fun with them, b) I got dragged into cookie run kingdom and pulled Shadow Milk Cookie on pure luck alone. So, we're throwing her into the mix because why not? Cerise is 22, and her uniform consists of a colorful dress, tights, ruff, a really long jingly hat, you know the vibe. Clowning around is the family business, and her two older brothers are clowns elsewhere in the world. Her main talents are juggling and slapstick style humor, but she's also really good at balloon animals. Also, because she's inspired by me playing CRK, I think she currently works as casino entertainment (Googled it, apparently some casinos do have circus entertainment? Or at least one and that's enough for me)- It's a steady gig, no need to travel, tipsy patrons are more likely to laugh, there's lots of people- It's an attractive gig for her.

Freelancer Fern

5'8, Brown Hair, Green Eyes, Right Handed, Taurus

A freelance writer who's been happily self employed for many years (She does a more murderous type of freelance, too, if you know how to ask).

Fern is 35, wears a brown leather jacket over a green turtleneck tank top, dark jeans, and black boots with a small heel. She's got her hair locked into two french braids, a little bit of freckles on her fact, and she's got a gold locket no one's seen the inside of. She's a jack of all trades and proud of it- If she was an actual Murdle character, every time she appeared, her description would list her as freelancing in a new field (Graphic design, editing, consulting, cybersecurity- You name it). She's rather shy and awkward with social situations, which is part of why she likes freelancing from the privacy of her own home. That. and her "other" freelance work makes her want to hide away from the public whenever possible. She's not particularly malicious or anything, it's just, well, she has bills to pay.

They'll all get art someday soon!! Once I finish some drawings for friends I need to get done, or in between those, since I'll probably be sketching them out traditionally for the extra practice. In the meantime, though, I'm happy to yap about any of them!! Thank you for the ask!! (And if Fern is an existing character already, oops)

[sweeteaapond]

♡》 SweeTeaa's Update

Writing this for some update :3

Currently have a full-time job until the end of summer and will be very busy therefore I will take a pause on projects and is very slow! TT-TT)

On my current sideblogs:

@sweeteaahunbun (sfw)

Interacting more here atm!

New fixiation: Cookie Run (Kingdom).

I reblog lots of Shadow Milk, silly jester got me in a chockhold now!

Currently accepting CRK-Ask here but will be very slow at answering. I write during my small free time ahah;;;

I also post my CookieRun OC here ^^)b

NSFW SIDEBLOGS - MDNI!

@sweeteaacakes

Not interacting much.

I haven't played vn games or erogames for a while.

There are ask in my inbox left unanswered. Sorry about those 💔 I got writers block after I got busy and couldn't find dopamine on whb 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 May try writing the ask tho but won't be accepting any new one for now!

@rozyteaa (dol sideblog)

Haven't touched the game in a pretty while 🥲

Too busy. I hope yo be able to play this again... I think this is the only game I like despite having many content I must catch up yet ^^

@lovestrike-romh-vn

a project in a long hiatus 💔

it is the first game i am working on which, unfortunately, was too ambitious so i'm threading bit by bit (and being very busy isn't helping either;;;) so it is on hiatus.

That's all for now! If you read until this point? Thank you!?!?! :0

Until next time then!

[basalt-deltas]

RULES WHEN REQUESTING

Requests are OPEN!

Fandoms I write for — Spiderverse, Valorant, Life Series, Hermitcraft, Critical Role, School Bus Graveyard

Spiderverse — Miguel O’Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Gwen Stacy, any of the live action Spidermen, Peter B. Parker, Spiderman Noir, MJ (Zendaya version only SORRY), Miles Morales (both of em) Valorant — Phoenix, Yoru, Cypher, Jett, Gekko, Omen, Skye, Nanobomb, KAY/O Vox Machina — Percy De Rolo, Vax'ildan, Vex'ahlia, Keyleth, Pike Trickfoot, Scanlan Shorthalt, Grog Mighty Nein — Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Jester Lavorre, Yasha Nydoorin, Beauregard Lionett, Fjord, Nott the Brave, Caduceus Clay, etc Hermitcraft — Just ask, I'm too tired to put all the sillies in here Life series — Again, just ask :thumbs up: School Bus Graveyard — Anyone, but pls keep in mind the mcs are MINORS!!!

Reader — I’m best at male!reader, but I’ll also do fem!reader, gnc!reader, and trans!reader! Fear not, I am trans also!

Usual Genres — Angst, fluff, idk what does genres even mean. Punk Rock???

—————

What I will write!!

⇨ character x reader (2nd person, you/yours, no y/n) ⇨ character x character (I won’t do certain ships, ask me first!!) ⇨ canon or canon-divergent ⇨ headcanon scenarios ⇨ character headcanons ⇨ oneshots ⇨ platonic, romantic, or familial ⇨ multiple requests from the same person ⇨ poly relationships ⇨ make canon cis/het characters queer ! ⇨ reader/characters with mental illness as long as it’s not romanticising or Weird about it (??) ⇨ Suggestive / 16+

What I will NOT write!!

⇨ NSFW / 18+ ⇨ other people’s ocs (SORRY) ⇨ yandere or other kinds of abusive/toxic relationships ⇨ anything with substance abuse as the main theme ⇨ child!reader in fics, mentioning it in familial fics/hcs is okay though ⇨ suicide, self/harm. severe depression, or similar topics as the main focus ⇨ anything proship or illegal ⇨ anything disregarding canon LGBTQ identities (making a gay character straight, a trans character cis, etc)

—————

When requesting…

PLEASE BE AS SPECIFIC AS POSSIBLE!! Tell me everything you want, specify if you want me to take some creative liberties, please I am so bad with unspecific directions!!! I will not dm to clarify if you’re not on anon

You can specify if you want me to post your request anonymously or with your ask attached !! If you don’t specify, I’ll just assume yes and I’ll attach your ask

I will answer whatever question you have!! About pretty much anything :D

PLEASE just. Don’t be a dick. I am not being paid to write for you!!! And I do this on my own time!!!

To check if your request is being written/worked on, check my works in progress!!

Everything above applies to requests!! If I write something by myself that breaks the rules, it’s because I want to and I can

—————

LINKS!!

masterlist (none yet) | pinned post | works in progress (none yet)

[goldenworldsabound]

🌦️🛌👀 C L A Y M A N

THANK YOU tbh I'm gonna answer all of these for Clayman at some point hehe

🌦️: Would you be accompanied by mostly fluff or angst fanfics? Both? Explain why.

Both. There's so much angst to lean into - Clayman's death in the main timeline, and his grief in thinking he got Wendy killed when he wakes up in the REVENGE timeline. I think some folks would find the source material didn't cover this enough and would want to expand on it.

I think there would also fully be an equal faction that's like NO SADNESS NO DEATH ONLY HAPPY ENDINGS FFS and would write a lot of fluff to cope so fkdjsahfkjds

🛌: What tropes show up in fics involving your ship?

childhood friends to lovers is a must have for AUs because the ship is literally that

also forbidden love/secret relationship (hiding it from Kazalim)

and unbalanced power dynamics for sure

also battle couple

👀: How does your ship with your f/o influence both of your characterisations and the world? Would there be any interesting metas written about your dynamic?

It makes it even clearer from the beginning that Clayman is not his usual self in the beginning of the story. At the same time, it emphasizes that the loyalty Rimuru has from his subordinates repeats itself - Wendy is so loyal to Clayman, they don't hesitate to die for him, despite the evil things he's done, many of which they haven't agreed with.

My SI specifically also brings grief to the forefront. Rimuru experiences grief (though he manages to bring all his friends back to life so it's quite temporary), but my SI doesn't. They have to grapple with it. That's the difference between them and Rimuru - Rimuru is strong, and he can fix the bad situation he was given. My SI cannot, and cannot even seek revenge for it.

There's also Yuzu, and Yuzu being the reason SI decides to keep living. To find meaning in family - reemphasizing what seems to be a focus for the Moderate Jesters in general. Family is of the utmost importance - and in this case, family is what enables SI to move forward from grief.

And of course in Clayman's REVENGE they allow us to see the soft sweet loving side of Clayman. It's clear he cares about his family, but this would make it even clearer.

I think there could be a lot of interesting meta written about the processing of grief, as well the depths of loyalty Wendy has to Clayman.

[wholecakeincest]

Tagged but also not tagged by @jesterboystrick for writer’s 20 questions

I am a yapper at heart especially about writing and my fics so of course I took this opportunity :)

How many works do you have on ao3

Shocked myself with this one because I thought it was under 10 but it’s actually 14! Would be more if I actually didn’t jump between wips as if it’s a parkour activity

What’s your total word count?

34,608

what are your top five fics by kudos?

The party , Moments in love , Sour switchblade , Just the two of us , Absolute territory (I need to get better at naming my fics also these are all ichisan ✌️)

What fandoms do you write for?

I’d say one piece but that’s a lie I’m only interested in keeping up with the Vinsmokes

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I love comments so I always try and respond! Even with just a ‘thank you for reading’ the only ones I struggle with is the ‘wolf ripping off shirt off.gif’ they’re funny but I struggle with what to reply

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh so quiet! , also officially my favourite fic too! I’m really proud of my sanji characterisation here

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I feel like all of my fics (bar some) always have some type of happy ending, my favourite trope of all time is ‘despite everything there is love’ I just think it’s so beautiful and important that people are able to find love in dire situations or with pasts that have haunted them and start anew, not forgetting the pain but embracing it.

Do you get hate on fics?

*touches wood* not so far, I’m waiting for it though lmao

Do you write crossovers?

Nuanced answer: if it’s having two separate characters from two series meet then a no go but if it’s just dropping them into a word than yes I have a couple of those (my crimson peak rewrite with SanIchiLu is one of these 🙂‍↕️)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nuanced answer see below

Have you ever had a fic translated before?

Okay so literally just as of today however the reason as to why this ties into above is that I have just received no credit to say that it’s my work, I do think it’s obvious that this is just a repost translation user has done so with other fics and idc if you translate a fic of mine I do think it’s super sweet! But all I ask is to just be credited 😭

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I would ideally love to but I a) think my style doesn’t mesh well with a lot of people’s b) I’m sensitive to criticism (even good natured) and biggest reason is that I’ve never done it before…. But I really want to even with all of these…..

What’s your all time favourite ship?

If I said anything but Ichiji x Sanji I’d be lying

What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Cannibal Germa!Sanji x baroque works!Zoro who suddenly becomes Sanji’s lap dog, originally for my gf’s birthday but I never finished it in time 💔 I feel guilty every day about it, maybe if another oomf pushes me enough I’ll actually finish it lol

What are your writing strengths?

emotions, tension and atmosphere.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Despite what I said earlier about happy endings I am so bad at finishing my fics just because I am so lazy and can’t be bothered to just cross the finish line so I just slap together whatever I can lol.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’ve thought about it! I have a plan for Ichiji (German) and Sanji (French) to teach each other the language and than finally confess from that language

First fandom you wrote for?

…….assassination classroom.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I already said oh so quiet so I’ll choose another fav which is another unpopular one 💔 which to be expected but also 💔💔 anyway I really enjoyed working on Love Bites , and I want to turn it into a full fledge series soon….. maybe one day, I think it was just a tad bit too experimental for others

And like jester I too also do not know whomst to talk so if you see this and want to do it go ahead ❤️