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happyanderes · 1 year

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⚠︎𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎⚠︎

☎︎001-001

Yandere!housekeeper x Artist!reader

⚠︎Warnings: Yandere content, drug usage(for sleep), non-consensual touches, reader is a famous artist

Word count: 1.8k

Still getting the hang of writing shorter stuff👉👈

“I can’t believe you got me a housekeeper!” You yell into the phone at your agent.

“Oh come on! When’s the last time you cleaned your room?” They replied.

“I just removed distractions from my life to keep a clear head! Steve Jobs wears the same-“

“-I’ve heard the same thing enough times already, yes, he removed choices from his life to focus on greater things with that brilliant brain of his, and I’m sure he has a housekeeper to clean out that pigsty of his.”

They say with a sigh, then before you can say anything, they continue.

“I saw how you work before, and you are distracted by your stuff all the time. He’s coming at 3 o’clock.” You check the clock, that bastard, it’s three minutes from now!

You hear the locked door click open.

As you glance at the doorway, you find yourself surprised to see a young male, who looks boyish, as if he’s fresh out of college. His pearly whites are almost glowing as a bright smile can be seen.

Your eyes trail to the bag of cleaning supplies in his bag.

“Great, he’s here……he looks so young, you sure he’s the right guy?” you mutter into the phone.

“Glad that those spare keys work! Now be polite, being a famous artist doesn’t mean you get a pass to be mean to others.” You turn away from the young man and stick your tongue out towards the phone secretly.

“That means no blowing raspberries, see you tomorrow.” And like that, they hung up.

You turn towards the young man, who looks energetic, excited, even, about working here.

“Pleased to meet you! My name’s Kyle!” with a peppy voice, his bright red hair bouncing along with his vivid movements. His pretty green eyes remind you of the shade of sunflower leaves. He reaches a hand out for you to hold.

You did not budge.

All he could do was awkwardly retract his hand.

“I’m looking forward to working in this lovely place!” He still says, with a bit less energy than before, making you almost feel pitying him. Almost.

“My room,” you point at it. His eyes trailed down your arm and to your pointer finger, then to the closed wooden door.

“It’s off limits.” That’s all you said before you sat down in front of your easel and continued working on your piece.

“Make yourself at home.”

You say absentmindedly and insincerely as a yellow stroke of paint spreads on the canvas. You lean back and a frustrated sigh leaves your lips. The phone call gave enough time for your acrylics to dry, thus making it hard to work with to get the result you wanted.

You’ve only laid the base color down, but it’s already clear that you’re drawing a field of sunflowers under a bright blue sky. Fluffy clouds and an ocean of gorgeous yellows simply waiting to be refined and brought to life.

Completely opposite from what you’re feeling.

“Okie dokie!” He said with a little salute, then his eyes scanned the room.

“Well, where should I start?” He asks you.

“Do whatever you want,” you answer. “If you don’t feel like cleaning you can go get a drink to have or something.” You say. You are actually hoping he’d listen and slack off so you’d have a quiet working space, and a reason to fire him, he doesn’t look like someone who’d really do his work anyways.

“Got it!” And then as soon as he said that, he left your house.

You hum now that it’s silent and continue working, thank goodness that went smoothly.

What you didn’t know was that twenty minutes later, you’d have a cup of ice cold coffee pressed to your cheek.

You squeal, as you didn’t expect him to come back, Kyle laughs softly and places the drink in your palms, you wrap your fingers around it out of instinct and look up at him, silently questioning.

“You said to get a drink,” he chuckled as he wiped the sweat on his forehead off with his sleeve, his chest heaving up and down as he puffed out those words. He seems to have run to and from the coffee shop.

“Sorry I was late, had to call your agent to ask what to get.”

You just stare at him, as if he’d grown two heads, then you look back at the coffee, and then to his bare hands.

“Where’s yours?”

Now it’s his turn to be confused, his lips form into a confused little smile.

“Mine……? I thought you wanted the drink.”

All you can do is blink, and look into his eyes, they’re filled with admiration, and an eagerness to please you. Almost like one of your fans you’d meet once in a while. Those fans who want to pry you open and see everything inside. Your frown deepens, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he watches you sip on your drink, with that cheery smile.

You only shrug and ignore him completely as he got to work, touring the house himself because you didn’t bother to.

Through time, you learned to tolerate him, you can’t fire him, not with your agent under his spell and him doing more than he’s paid for, but you begin to spend more time in your own room than outside of it, working nonstop, and by the time the three month monument hits, you finally start to open up just a little bit, mostly because he makes good food.

“Dinner time!” You hear Kyle shout from out of the room, breaking you out of your focus, you did not answer, only washed your brush and headed to your dining room. You always preferred sitting at the bar while you eat your food, the feeling of solidarity is nice. But Kyle tends to take his seat next to you, you don’t know if it’s appropriate, since you’ve never had a housekeeper before, but you’d just listen to him talk and talk and talk as you eat.

You know what your food is going to be, since he came to you this morning about the menu, apparently it’s a rich people thing, to have your personal chef decide the menu depending on your mood. He made you something light, a simple sandwich with freshly made juice on the side as you requested. It’s nutritious, as he says.

You take a bite of the sandwich as you listen to him rambling on about little things he has to say in life, sometimes about his life outside of your house, sometimes about his life inside of your house, but what he says the most is about you, how he’d ask you little questions and tell you some things you might’ve not noticed about yourself.

You usually listen to his ramble absentmindedly, creepy as it is, that’s probably how he became such a good housekeeper anyways. He has the eye of an artist, at least that’s how you write it off as.

The sandwich is on the drier side, so you have to mix it with your juice. It's mixed fruits, tastes like mango and apples, but the color is a bit more on the red side. You wonder what paints to mix to create this lovely shade, almost fitting to draw a sunset.

You feel his gaze on you as the liquid inside your cup decreases, as the drink is finished, you yawn.

Perhaps it’s because your body is getting used to this new balanced and healthy eating habit, you get terribly tired after dinner.

“You can go home for today, I have to—“ you pause for a yawn, “—get some more work done……”

He only chuckles.

“Oh, but you look tired.” He says, holding your arm as you stand up from the chair rather wobbly. You notice a little cut on his wrist, and you mindlessly trace your finger down it. He jolts a bit, but doesn’t pull away.

“This should’ve healed long ago……” you mumble.

“I have a bad habit of picking it.” He laughed it off and places his other palm on your back, it feels unnecessarily intimate, but is what you need when your legs feel so wobbly. What did you do to feel so tired all of a sudden?

“What was in that drink……?” You say, words dragging on.

“Well—“

He wasn’t able to finish, as you fell in his embrace, eyes closed and your breathing even.

“Love, and a special ingredient, might’ve put too much in there this time.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around you and picks you up gently, holding you tightly in his arms and burying his nose in the crook of your neck. He’s in ecstasy as he realized that you are using the shampoo and body wash he got for you. Now the two of you share the same scent.

Slowly, he carries you to your bedroom, this is an emergency, surely it’s good enough of a reason to break your rule?

And he walks into your room with caution, watching his feet as he tries to keep you in a comfortable position in his arms. He loves it when you need him, even though you’re sleeping. As he puts you on your bed, he observes your sleeping face, everything else in the world seemed to have just melted away.

“It’s so worth it, that secret ingredient. I get to see your face so close every night!” He almost squeals, carefully climbing on top of you and brushing his fingers along your jawline. There isn’t any light, only the light from outside of your room, illuminating the rim of the both of you. His breath grows heavy as he feels his cheeks turn hot. Leaning down, Kyle faces you, the distance between is so small to the point he can count your eyelashes, he would if he doesn’t have something else important to do.

“Now you may kiss the bride……” he can hear his own heart pounding in his ears, even if he knows it’s not possible, he imagines you to open your eyes and jump, he’s sure that your budding feelings towards him would perish as soon as you see him straddling you.

Slowly, shakily, he closes his eyes and places a kiss on the lid of your eyes, then on your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth, then finally, your lips. His tongue enters easily, toying with your unresponsive one, the pink muscle almost skillfully maneuvering around in your mouth, something only experience can bring. His grip on your jaw tightens by a fraction as he tugs your jaw down a bit more for better access.

After what felt like forever, he pulls away, desperately gasping for breath. He wishes he doesn’t need to breathe at all, so that he can simply kiss you for the rest of eternity, or at least until you wake up.

He stole a few more kisses, then, he leaves your room, secretly taking note to add less of the special medicine and a bit more of the other special ingredient.

“See you tomorrow.” he says with the biggest smile as he closes the door, leaving you completely in the dark.

#yandere #yandere x reader #Yandere housekeeper #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshot #soft yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere fic #yandere oneshots #yandere oc #OCKyle #he’s a creep #but he cooks good stuff #Smiley writes

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causticjuice · 11 months

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A Refreshing Distraction — Part 1

Copia x masc!reader

(Part 2 here)

Summary: You convince Papa to go see a movie with you as a break from his paperwork. He still needs some help clearing his mind, and you do so with pleasure.

Notes: Reader is referred to by masculine terms (only in Italian in this part) and wears a cassock (even though they’re a Sibling because fuck the rules in this here satanic church). Their genitals are not mentioned. Also, I know that Copia wears those black nitrile gloves in the chapters but I cannot have that, he’s wearing leather ones.

Tags: SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral sex, car blowjob (while driving), getting caught (sorta, not really)

Word count: 1.6k

ao3

You walk through the corridors leisurely, admiring the intricately carved wooden panels on the walls while making your way to Copia’s office. You know he has been having a hard time with tax season lately and you haven’t seen him in days. It seems strange to you anyway that a Papa would be the one filing his own taxes, but you accepted it. He’s been holed up with those papers long enough, and probably unable to make any progress at this point, so you decided to take his mind off of it for a bit. You heard of a new movie that just started playing in theaters and thought that would be a good enough distraction. It’s your day off and you know Copia will appreciate going at a time when the place isn’t packed. Once you arrive at his door, you give it three rapid knocks and once you hear his voice telling you to come in, you open the door.

“Oh, hello, Fratello! I wasn’t expecting you today,” Copia says, grinning.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you in a while. And I have no duties scheduled today so I thought we could go see a movie together,” you suggest, with a subtle hint of uncertainty in your voice, already anticipating his response.

“Unfortunately, I, uh…,” he gestures to his desk, “need to deal with this now. But I will gladly go another time.”

You pause for a few seconds. You know this work is important but he still needs some time off. You can see his eyes look puffy, even with the paint around them. “I think you’ve earned a trip out to the town for a bit.”

“I do need to finish this, caro,” he insists, while giving you an apologetic look.

You decide to try to convince him to go one more time. “Think about it. I bet you've been sitting there, trying to figure out some little detail and not able to do it, right? Your brain needs a break, Copia.”

He sighs, staring for a moment at the stack of papers in front of him. “Okay, I will go.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you a good time,” you smirk.

“Alrighty, give me a moment, hm?” He scurries out of the room after you give him a small nod.

You sit down at the desk and scan over the chaos in front of you. There are at least five different piles of papers, different bowls, plates and cutlery all stacked together and many empty juice boxes, on the desk itself and in the small trash can next to it. You hear an exasperated “damn it” and break out of your trance.

The door that Copia left through opens once again and you see him appear.

“I’m so sorry but it seems that I, eh, have no other clean clothes… I have just been so busy–“

“Oh, don’t worry, you look fine. We’re not going to the Met Gala! C’mon, we’ll be late.”

“A-are you sure? Won’t I stand out?” He asks.

“I will stand out more in my cassock than you will in a tracksuit and T-shirt.”

“Hm… Okie dokie, let’s go.” He gestures to the door, letting you leave first.

On the drive to the theater, you notice that he’s gripping the steering wheel tightly enough that the leather of his gloves is almost constantly squeaking against it, and his jaw is clenched.

“Are you okay, Papa?” you question.

“Ah, sì, sì, just worried about work,” he answers.

“Hmm. Maybe I can help you take your mind off of it?” You place your hand gently on his thigh, slowly moving it higher.

“I’m not sure what you– Oh,” he cuts off as your fingers almost reach his crotch.

“Is that alright? May I continue?”

“Y-yes, please.”

You move your hand up until it is resting over his bulge and lightly stroke. Once you notice he is getting hard, you squeeze a little as you continue your movement. A tiny gasp escapes Copia’s lips and his eyes close briefly.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Papa,” you tease. He clears his throat and straightens up a bit, composing himself.

Satisfied that he will pay attention now, you hook your thumb on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and pull them down, letting his cock spring out against his belly. You grasp him and run your thumb over his head, gathering his precum. You can’t stop the urge to taste his arousal and bring the drop to your mouth. Copia glances over at you for a moment as you hum at the taste. Wanting to taste more of him, you dip your head down and run the tip of your tongue directly over his slit, which earns you a shudder.

You start to lick in circles around his head while occasionally pumping your hand over his length. You can feel his toned thighs tense slightly under your other hand and hear his breathing becoming just a little more shallow and rapid. You still the hand working him and lower your head, taking him deeper into your mouth, while reaching your tongue down towards his balls. After a moment of pause, you move up, pressing your tongue against him until you reach the top once again. A low moan comes from Copia, clearly becoming more aroused while also being mildly frustrated at your slow pace. He seems to be letting go of his shy demeanor and letting lust take over.

Just as you start to pick up your pace, you can feel the car slow to a stop and a hand pressed on the back of your head.

“We’re at a stoplight now, topolino, don’t move,” Copia whispers.

The top of his LeSabre is down, so you know it would be plainly obvious to anyone around if you continued. You decide to tease him just a little bit by massaging his balls delicately, not being able to do much more with his cock down your throat and his hand restricting you. The sound that escapes him, a mix of a moan and yelp, is absolutely obscene and not at all what you expected from your gentle action. That’s when you feel his hand grip your hair and yank you off of him. He keeps you just below eye level, glaring at you, completely red in the face. You glance over to his left and see two people in another convertible staring at you with wide eyes. You grin and wave at them with the hand that just elicited that over-the-top response, your face portraying a bizarre mix of mischief and embarrassment.

The car you’re looking at starts driving and you hear a honk from behind. Copia quickly lets go of your hair, grabs the stick shift and starts driving.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He yells.

“What? We’ll probably never see those people again.”

“And what if they know who I am?”

“Then I’m sure this is not much worse than what they’ve seen from you before.” He huffs in response. “What was that reaction anyway? I barely touched you.”

“I wasn’t expecting it!”

You glance down at his crotch and see that he’s still hard.

“You wanna keep going?” You ask.

“You better finish what you started,” he replies, still clearly annoyed at you.

This time, he is much more rough once you start again. You begin with an already relatively quick pace, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a bit of suction. Whenever he doesn’t need to use it for driving the car, he places his hand on your head and shoves you down, all the while grunting and growling. You can tell from a glance at your surroundings that you’re at the part of the road where it is straight and uninterrupted for a while, and you speed up even more. Copia’s hips start to move in rhythm with you and his fingers are now threaded through your hair.

“Cazzo, Fratello–” he growls low in his belly and his hips begin to stagger at the top of his movement. You keep moving your head up and down, committing to memory the blissful feeling of having him fill your mouth up and making him unravel under you.

He tenses up and thrusts one last time as you keep your nose pressed against him and feel his cum spill directly down your throat and into your stomach. You pull off of him just in time to pump one more rope out and catch it on your tongue this time to taste him.

“Hmm, you taste so delicious, Papa,” you moan as you lift yourself up.

Copia only pants and huffs, unable to respond, all of his attention split between coming down from his pleasure and driving the car.

After a moment, you tuck him back into his clothes to the best of your ability, only seconds before he pulls into the parking lot at your destination.

You notice he is still in a dazed state, pausing for a beat too long after stopping the car.

“Everything good?” you ask, and just as you get the words out, he turns sharply towards you and pulls you into an intense kiss, grabbing the back of your neck. After you quickly adjust to the surprise, you deepen the kiss and swirl your tongue against his. As you do, he moans and pulls away.

“Sì, I suppose that does taste nice,” he smiles with a glint in his eye, “that was incredible, tesoro, thank you.”

“My pleasure. Besides, you can return the favor during the movie.”

#my fic #smut #mdni #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #copia #copia x reader #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost band fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band smut #copia fanfiction #copia fanfic #my first fic #I have no clue what I'm doing

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bitterkarella · 1 year

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Midnight Pals: Mr Electric

Ray Bradbury: Submitted for the approval of the midnight Society, I call this the tale of the eternal summer, the last vestiges of muggy august giving way to the bluster of autumn, the twinkling lights of town below in the humid night, young lovers stealing kisses in the dark, old men on the porch, jawin and chewin and chuckling at remembrances of romances long past Barker: you’re literally just describing a Thomas Kinkade painting Poe: clive

Stephen King: wow ray you really come up with some evocative imagery! King: whatever inspired you to become a writer anyway? Bradbury: well, it all started when I went to the county fair and met a wizard Koontz: whoa! A real wizard! King: no dean he’s talking about a magician Bradbury: [chuckling] am I? Bradbury: mr electrico was no mere magician! Bradbury: he had the REAL power!!! Bradbury: the power Bradbury: to fire a young boy’s IMAGINATION! Neil Gaiman: [clapping] right, right! Good show! Right on!

Ray Bradbury: and Mr Electrico pointed a flaming electrical sword at me and said Bradbury: “LIVE FOREVER!!” Bradbury: now I cannot be killed Gretchen Felker-Martin: oh yeah, big mood

Bradbury: Mr Electrico said “Live Forever!” Bradbury: Now I cannot be killed Bradbury: and it’s true Bradbury: c’mon try it out Stephen King: no no I couldn’t Bradbury: c’mon Bradbury: c’mon!!! Bradbury: come at me bro!!! Bradbury: I can take it!!

Bradbury: [slapping chest] c’mon, take a swing at me! Stephen King: I really don’t want to fight you Ray Bradbury: do it! Do it! Barker: I’ll do it Poe: clive Barker: I’m just giving him what he wants! Poe: clive Poe: clive he’s like 100 years old

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Bradbury: mary!!! Come at me! Mary Shelley: okie dokie [immediately shivs Bradbury, blade snaps] Mary Shelley: what the fuck Bradbury: ha! this isn’t even a tenth of my power!!! Bradbury: what did I tell you?! Bradbury: not a single one of you could defeat you!! Mary Shelley: oh yeah? Mary Shelley: guess we’ll have to gang up on you!! Get ‘im boys! [Ann Radcliffe and Monk Lewis approach with chain and billy club respectively] [Bradbury effortlessly blocks roundhouse kick by Wrath James White] Bradbury: ha! Laughable! [Bradbury effortlessly sidesteps kung fu chop by Alan Baxter] Bradbury: ha! Pathetic!

Bradbury: come on! Come at me! Robert E Howard: you sure about this pardna? Howard: this ain’t no pea shooter hombre Bradbury: [slapping chest] what’s the matter, ya pussy? Bradbury: Fuckin do it!! Howard: hold on thar pardna Howard: I think ya might wanna calm down Bradbury: [grabbing gun and pulling Robert E Howard closer] Bradbury: DO Bradbury: IT Howard: [aiming gun] okay pilgrim you asked fer it Poe: bob Poe: bob this is getting ridiculous Poe: bob don’t Howard: [cocking gun] sorry pardna Howard: I gotta Howard: it’s the law of the west

Ray Bradbury: [flexing] Behold!!! The power of Mr. Electrico!!! The electric man!!! Barker: so ray Barker: I hear this magician’s fake Poe: clive Bradbury: he’s a real magician Barker: is he now Barker: then why hasn’t anyone ever heard of him Bradbury: he Bradbury: he lives in Canada

#midnight pals #midnight society #the midnight society #ray bradbury #stephen king #dean koontz #edgar allan poe #clive barker #neil gaiman #gretchen felker-martin #alan baxter #wrath james white #robert e howard #mary shelley #ann radcliffe #matthew “monk” lewis

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crystallizedday · 3 months

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So a couple of weeks ago, I established the basic outline for my Samurai Jack AU: Duo of Doom.

Despite it already being so fuckin massive, I still have a lot to still talk about regarding the AU, hence why I am making this post.

The purpose of this post is to outline ALL itty bitty details that I’m working with for the AU, which will collectively be referred to as “headcanons” cause I dunno what else to call them… and they’re canon to the AU anyway, so uh… “headcanons” feel the most appropriate.

MANY of these headcanons came from the genius @tigerarainbowra-blog , mainly the more biologically and physiologically centered ones, so I’m very excited to share some of these with y’all in this post! I’ll mark all of her ideas with an orange • cause she deserves proper credit for some of these bangers!

So, without stalling, let’s get into this!!

Imma split this up into 3 sections: one for Demongo, one for Scara, and then a miscellaneous category where I talk about small ideas I have for a variety of characters.

Before we get right into it, I want to stress that MUCH of Demongo’s personality and abilities will stem from what was established in the Cartoon Network MMO game Fusionfall, which explored and added onto Demongo’s character quite a bit. I will let y’all know when some of these headcanons stem from Fusionfall so it’s clear where exactly I got these ideas from.

Okie dokie! Enough stalling. Let’s dig into this!!

Demongo

• Despite him being pretty well known in the early days of the fandom as the “lava lamp” guy with how bubbly his fiery head was, I like to think he genuinely has a large variety of fire-based powers under his belt. After all, it is a key move he has as a nano in Fusionfall as well as something the real Demongo in game claims he has the ability to do during his “All the World’s a Stage” missions. I believe that while he can be rather flexible with what he can do with his fire-based powers, he sticks to simply using fire itself as an offensive move, such as using fire breath to make himself practically a walking flamethrower. He definitely can just summon fire with the flick of his wrist, but I like to think he enjoys the gigachad move of going dragon-mode JUST so he can seem as tough as possible.

• Speaking of him using fire moves offensively, thanks to a texturing mishap on Demongo’s model in Fusionfall, I got the cute idea of him having the ability to heat up his own fingers and dish out fiery scratches so he can look cool as shit. Additionally, he can use this ability just to make himself look a lil more stylish. Yeah, that’s right. Those blue “painted nails” in his later DOD designs? That’s just bro using his powers to make em LOOK like painted nails. They don’t feel all that hot on the surface, so anyone else can touch them just fine without getting burned… assuming Demmy doesn’t wanna burn you. It’s really up to him if he just wants to give you third degree burns.

• I keep mentioning how Demmy really enjoys looking cool, and that is because this version of Demongo is veeeeeeeeeeery insecure about his actual strength. This is hinted at a bit in his debut episode, but I took this concept and ran with it for the AU. As the story goes on, he relies less and less on his stolen souls as he starts using more of his powers that he naturally has (which is mainly just his fire powers). While he goes around acting like he’s the shit, he doesn’t have the best self esteem, making him very hesitant and scared to be vulnerable in any way. This changes over the course of the story, but for the majority of it all, he struggles to find worth in himself.

• Forcing himself to have such a high view of himself (assuming he doesn’t let himself get vulnerable) is something he believes he has to do, not only just to make it in this world (since I doubt Aku was gonna keep letting someone who is openly insecure stay in the higher ranks), but also due to how they correlate with his powers. Reaching a mentally low point will cause his fire to go out as he goes into his “depowered” form (even if his skulls are still present). In this state, he can’t use any of his abilities. Think of it as his own soul becoming so demotivated that it becomes too weak for Demongo to harness his own abilities. If he lets himself be emotionally vulnerable, he’s gonna be physically vulnerable too, and he just cannot have that.

• Just like a vampire, he steals the souls of his warriors via biting them, preferably when the target is too worn out to fight back. It’s pretty much OVER if bro ever pierces the skin since that initiates some magical bullshit that reconfigures the target’s entire being into nothing but gas, which Demmy can easily consume.

• His physiology is deceptively complicated. This is due to how rare his kind actually is… particularly since he is the ONLY one of his kind (in this AU). His creation is pretty similar to that of a diamond as it required an ample amount of resources that come together in a VERY specific way. Funnily enough, like a diamond, Demongo is almost entirely comprised of pure carbon.

• Being made up of carbon and other light elements, Demongo can destabilize his form to go into what I like to call his gas-mode… which is pretty much what it sounds like. He just turns into a black cloud of smoke that travels in the same way his soul essences do in his debut episode, all snake-like and shit. He can also teleport as seen in his episode, but that’s more of a magical thing than his gas form is.

• The souls he steals are TECHNICALLY physically stored in him as a part of his biology, but these lil “chambers” of his still embody the vast pocket dimension he’s shown to have in his debut episode.

• Despite the souls he collects giving him the strength he has, he CAN eat like any other regular being… well, sort of. He has a stomach, but it more so functions as a burner, burning anything he consumes that can later be redistributed as gases via… well, his fiery fuckin head. However, due to how he’s mostly made of carbon, he had difficulty burning substances that contain elements that are denser than carbon. He can still consume them, but they fuckin SUCK to eat, and he just naturally hates the taste of them. Because of this, Demongo has an INTENSE sweet tooth and actively seeks out sugary treats. This also means bro cannot go vampire mode and consume blood as that shit has SO much iron in it. Bro would find that shit disgusting, not because it’s BLOOD necessarily, but because that shit is PACKED with such a heavy element.

• Demongo’s comfort food of choice is marshmallows, mainly because of how they’re mainly comprised of sugar and not much else. Hell, he’s pretty much a s’mores guy, which is quite fitting considering he’s a walking campfire. If you were to try and be goofy silly by roasting a marshmallow using his fire, he’d just bite the damn thing right off your stick. His fire, his rules.

• Thanks to how simplistic its chemistry is, alcohol is something Demongo (unfortunately) enjoys. Due to how he digests shit via burning anything he consumes, this results in him getting intoxicated VERY quickly. “Lightweight” doesn’t even BEGIN to describe this lil shit. Funnily enough, he also has the tendency to get all floaty and shit when he’s immensely intoxicated. He also gets EXTREMELY giggly. You could say the most dull and boring-ass word in existence and this bitch will almost pass out from laughing. As funny as these experiences can be, Scara tries his best to limit whenever the lil fella can have alcohol… for both their sakes.

• Because Demongo doesn’t have the typical digestive system, his diet technically isn’t LIMITED to the usual human foods and CAN refer to objects as well just as long as they aren’t made of any elements heavier than carbon. Of course, Demongo prefers ACTUAL fuckin food… unless it’s candles, for some reason. I just find it really funny. KAMAKAMAOMSOMOSKDOSKD

• Demongo actually has bones, but they’re mainly to provide stability to his form and keep his basic shape when in his solid form. They’re extremely light to ensure he can easily go into gas mode. He literally cannot break any of his bones thanks to how he can just… reshape it back into place with ease thanks to his ability to warp his physical form and quickly mend himself.

• While he still can get hurt, any physical damage he takes can be easily mended if he has the energy for it. This can take the form of cuts, bruises, blown-off appendages, bites (if that sounds sus, then you already know why I brought it up. I just like the irony it creates, I swear), getting crushed, anything like that. The only thing that can actively keep him down (outside of demoralizing him) would be to not give him time to heal and wear him down little by little or by using one POWERFUL enough attack that’s enough to knock him out, much like how he was originally defeated by Jack with that big explosion.

• The skulls on his torso are not actually the skulls of the warriors he defeats. They are made of the same components as him. I mean, he definitely can’t have thousands of warriors under his control while only realistically having like… dozens of skulls on him. The skulls merely provide a means of imbuing a warrior’s essence into a physical form that can be molded back into the warrior’s original being. They can go gas mode on their own once a warrior is defeated, returning back to Demongo to rejoin the rest of his skulls in its solid form. However, it is possible to take all the skulls off, cutting off all of Demmy’s powers and putting him in his depowered state. They can be reattached afterwards. In a way, they’re like detachable scales (which is funny considering what’s coming up in a little bit). Demmy only ever removes his skulls to sleep better (and to not unknowingly catch anything on fire, of course), if/when he chooses to sleep. The only person that’s seen Demongo willingly detach his skulls is Scaramouche, especially since Demmy is in a very vulnerable state in this form.

• If any of his skulls remain detached from his body for a decently long time, his body will naturally reconstruct a new one to take its place.

• Regardless of whether or not his skulls have been detached, Demongo will enter his depowered state once he falls asleep. It helps him preserve energy this way.

• Demongo cannot be easily killed since any form of beheading or dismemberment only results in him having to manifest the missing part of his body, which is merely a minor annoyance to him. However, he’s not invincible. Right in the middle of his chest is his “core,” which is his TRUE “being” in a way. It is essentially his brain and his heart. His core can be vaguely seen whenever he goes into gas mode, if you can look past the smoke and shit. His core NEEDS to stay as scorching as possible. Extinguishing the core (mainly by cooling it to dangerously low temperatures) will result in Demongo’s death.

• Despite being fairly humanoid, Demongo has some lizard-like properties. This is mainly apparent in his ability to smell. Since he doesn’t have an actual nose, he relies on his tongue to sniff out anything of value, which is why he can typically be seen “blepping” from time to time, especially if food is nearby. Additionally, I like to think he specifically takes after the blue tongued skink for… obvious reasons. Here’s a funni lil art piece I made just for this one headcanon LAMWKSMWOSM

• Demongo CAN cry… but his tears aren’t ordinary tears. They’re just straight-up lava. Dealing with a crying Demongo is a lot more dangerous than anyone could ever expect. The only safe way to clean up Demmy’s face would be to use a stone or rock that won’t easily melt from the lava. Scaramouche keeps a couple on hand in season 2, cutely calling them “sponges.”

• Demmy has a lot of control over the temperature of his body (aside from his core). I already mentioned how he can do this with his fingers, but he can also manipulate the temperature of his mouth. This helps him not only utilize his fire breath but also to ensure any kiss doesn’t result in a Flame Princess situation, because nobody wants to be reminded of THAT Adventure Time arc…

• This advanced control over the temperature of his body allows Demmy to manually mend things (like metal) back together, so if Scara takes any damage (mainly minor gashes), Demmy can just… seal that shit back up with ease with nothing but the tip of his finger!

• His “blood” is pretty much just plasma. Yeah. Just blue plasma. It pretty much acts like his blood, having a vein-like structure throughout his solid form and all, but that’s about it. This is the shit that helps Demmy influence the temperature of certain parts of his body, such as the fingers as mentioned earlier.

• Fusionfall claimed that Demongo had the ability to place “charms” on certain objects, and while I still find that ability kinda stupid, I wanted to repurpose it for this AU. I like to think that Demongo has dabbled in magic outside of the kind he already has within him. He does not have much use for this knowledge outside of creating enchanted weaponry, but it at least gives him some insight on how various forms of magic work. As a result, he’s very knowledgeable about the subject.

• While he can speak English just fine, his primary language is Japanese. He rarely ever speaks in it since rarely anyone around him knows the language, but since he was never taught how to write in English, he only knows how to write in the Japanese alphabet. He strives to be better at writing English, sometimes dabbling in French since Scara knows that shit like the back of his hand.

• As much as he may claim to hate them, bro actually loves hearing a good pun, especially if he finds it particularly clever or unexpected. If any of you are familiar with his Nano counterpart’s audio files, you’ll probably know where I’m pulling this info from. OWMWOSMSOSSKSOSK Ah, and he additionally finds anything Scara says to be the funniest shit in the world, regardless of quality. Just a dorky lil fella who is absolutely in love OWNWKWMWOSMDDOXMON

• “Growing up” (for lack of a better term) in the Pit of Hate meant Demongo would not be too familiar with gestures of kindness and such at the start of the AU. While this fact is very apparent in a variety of ways (as seen in the tavern episode in the AU’s first season), this also has resulted in him being unfamiliar with physical gestures of kindness… aka bro’s never been fuckin hugged before. This would result in Demmy (in the earlier episodes of season 1) being surprised by touch, even from something as small as a simple pat on the back or a hand to the shoulder. He doesn’t HATE the sensation. It’s just unfamiliar to him at this point in the story. I’m pretty sure lil guy getting his first friendly hug from Scara was the point where he REALLY felt the effects of being touch starved, and while it’s hard for him to ask for support thanks to his fear of vulnerability during this section of the story, Scara thankfully is happy to oblige.

• As a result, Demmy has grown to really enjoy being held, typically through hugs or even being carried. This can be seen way more during season 2 when Demmy isn’t NEARLY as fearful of being vulnerable and such. Sometimes, he’ll try and act like he’s out of breath or is low on energy just as an excuse for Scara to carry him, but since he does it in such a dramatic and playful way, it’s easy to tell when he’s doing it on purpose. He’ll only ever outright ask to be carried if he feels comfortable enough (since that fear of vulnerability still lingers on, even if it’s not nearly as potent as it was in season 1).

• After he starts learning more and more about modern culture, he starts going by he/they since that shit just feels right to him… well, that and I just like putting a lil bit of my own quirks into the characters I write. I specifically see him identifying as a demiboy.

• Bro is gay. I’ve already mentioned that before, and there isn’t much else to say about it… I mean, I HAVE thought about referencing the famous Sam and Max line “But Max, you don’t even like girls” with Scara and Demmy before, just to make this lil fact about the lil guy clear, but I dunno how or when I’d even do it KQMQOWMOWKOSSKOJ

• Whenever bro gets flustered or blushes, his face HEATS up… like DRAMATICALLY. DO NOT forget that he’s just a walking campfire. As such, in some rare cases if he’s flustered enough for a prolonged period of time, he’ll start to kinda melt a little bit, just a little bit though.

• He HATES water, mainly cause he kinda dissolves in it, which either results in a much smaller Demongo popping out (excluding the skulls) if he’s able to get out of it on his own or only leaving behind his scorching core. He won’t die, of course, just as long as the core isn’t kept in the water for too long. Complete evaporation of his physical form will result in him taking a while to fully reform, which will leave him in a depowered state until he can properly warm up again.

• He likes wearing Scara’s big-ass coat. It’s comforting, in a way.

• Despite him not being super intelligent, Demmy’s quite knowledgeable about strategizing, finding enjoyment in commanding his own lil legion and carefully planning their every move. That is to say… he’s a fucking chess player, and it boggles his mind how he always loses to Scaramouche in any match they do. He’s determined to beat the big guy at LEAST once.

• There’s always been this lil joke in the fandom calling Demongo a theater kid, and despite THIS Demongo never having stepped foot in an actual theater (prior to meeting Scara), you can just TELL by the way he moves and talks in public that he’s a bit of an actor at heart. He talks loudly, boastfully even, exaggerating his gestures way too passionately, and is just VERY animated in general. Despite his insecurities, he genuinely does love to proudly express himself, which gets a lot easier for him to do as the story goes on.

• Speaking of how he tends to act in public, Demmy is… pretty fuckin mischievous towards others (or at least people he isn’t close to… ie Scara). Even if his target hasn’t done anything to him, he just enjoys playing jokes on people whenever he knows he can get away with it. However, if Demmy DOES decide he wants to be petty towards someone, he’ll go out of his way to make that person’s life MISERABLE while he just shrugs and plays it off like everything he does is just a lil accident. TLDR, if he doesn’t know or like you, he’s GONNA be a little shit towards you.

• As such, Demmy is not the friendliest person to be around. He is a certified ✨people hater✨, and would much rather stick with people he knows and trusts (ie Scara… again).

• As a bit of a nod to Demongo’s voice actor Kevin Michael Richardson (famous for his roles where he plays characters with extremely deep voices), Demongo’s voice actually has the same range as Kevin’s, meaning he can pull off the same kind of deep voices Kevin can. However, Demongo can only deepen his voice for a short amount of time before it strains his throat, so he doesn’t do it often. He only ever does this if it’s useful for something important or when he wants to play tricks on others (ie prank calls… maybe, assuming he can figure out how to use a cell phone first KANAOWMXOSMDOSMF).

• Over the countless centuries he has been employed by Aku, Demongo was only summoned under extreme conditions such as when a thorn in Aku’s side was starting to get too much for his regular forces to handle. Thanks to the later advancements in technology throughout Aku’s reign, his army of robots would often handle most jobs Demongo in the past would have been sent to take care of, meaning he would be summoned less and less. This change marked a significant boost in confidence for Demongo since he would only be summoned if a threat arrived that Aku’s robots simply could not handle, meaning Demmy’s work was only reserved for emergency situations. However, this would also give him the impression that robots are nothing but a means to an end, seeing them as not only inferior to him, but also inferior to organic warriors. This all changed when he met and gradually bonded with Scaramouche.

• This change in outlook came about not just because Scaramouche proved himself to be quite capable on his own, but also because Demongo soon realized that everyone was disposable to his old master, including Demmy himself. Realizing he was tossed aside the second he failed Aku for the first time opened Demmy’s eyes when it comes to his own self worth and the worth of others around him, making him appreciate Scara as an individual far more than he ever did before. He wouldn’t let his master’s expectations of others cloud his judgment anymore.

• Chronologically speaking, this meant Demongo went from seeing Scara as nothing more than an inferior being below organics in the beginning of season 1 to actively defending the big guy when anyone else tried saying similarly degrading nonsense in season 2. He grew and changed as a person, and I’m so proud of him for it… OQKQOWKSOXMDODMDODDKK

• Since Aku can canonically dream apparently (according to the wiki), it only makes sense that Demongo can also dream. However, most of his dreams early on in the AU would often be rather unpleasant, constantly reminding him of the looming presence of Aku in his waking life. This happens a lot less frequently by the time season 2 rolls around, but it’s still very apparent that he continues to fear his ex-master, no matter how much better his life was at that point.

• Remember that giant see-through skull that Demongo was summoned in at the end of his debut episode? The one Aku destroyed with him inside? Considering Demmy is made of the same stuff as diamonds, I like to think that the skull is made of diamond as well (to an extent, especially since it’s hollow on the inside). Perhaps this was the skull that Demongo first formed in, and was used to summon his essence whenever Aku desired… well, until the big guy crushed it, seeing no more use in keeping Demongo around. Of course, Demmy was just sent back to the Pit of Hate to be punished for his failure, but the destruction of that crystal skull meant Aku could no longer summon him at will, which is definitely a good thing for Demmy.

• You know those other demons that work for Aku? The ones in the blue and red outfits that kinda act as the law enforcement for the big guy? Demongo was once a part of their ranks before gradually climbing to the top, later being promoted as one of the greats in the entirety of Aku’s legion. Of course, this was all before Jack came along and kicked Demmy’s ass.

• While he was being punished in the Pit of Hate, he at one point regained enough power to teleport out of the grasp of the demons who were watching over him, eventually finding a way to escape the Pit and return to the surface to regain his full strength. Aku was never told about his escape due to the two demons that were supposed to watch over the fiery lil shit fearing they would be killed if Aku ever found out. The two have been searching for Demongo ever since.

Scaramouche

• Scaramouche is the more level-headed of the two numbskulls as it is EXTREMELY difficult to genuinely piss him off. He is just THAT naturally laidback. However, when he DOES get pissed, he doesn’t scream or make a big fuss about it. No. He goes dead silent. This often ends with someone getting their ass beat… before Scara immediately bounces back with that familiar chirpy attitude after everything’s said and done.

• Despite how he’s mainly known for his scatting, Scara CAN legitimately sing. He’s pretty damn good at it. It’s the same story with dancing as well. He enjoys teaching Demmy how to sing and dance like he can, and the lil guy’s been getting better and better at it ever since. They really are just two theater kids in love. KWNWOSNOSKON

• He is NOT a twink. I have no clue why everyone for so long was under the impression that he was, but just because his limbs are skinny as fuck doesn’t mean his entire build is. Naw. Naw, that guy’s fairly built, pun totally intended. KWNWKWKSOKOK

• You can tell something is wrong when Scara starts speaking “normally” without any quips or “babe”s being thrown about. This can either happen if he’s genuinely pissed off, scared, or is actively hiding something.

• Since his creator was a French scientist, Scara in his early days took an interest in learning the language alongside English. Because of this, present Scara is fluent in both languages, being able to speak and write in them flawlessly. Even so, he’s genuinely interested to learn Japanese, Demmy’s first language. He thinks it’s cute that the lil guy likes trying to teach him the language, so he’s all for it. Scara’s fully capable of learning the language himself since… well… he IS a robot built to quickly learn shit, but he still prefers Demmy teaching him instead. He finds it too adorable of an offer to pass up on.

• Being a robot allows him to have near-perfect handwriting in any font he chooses. He typically uses cursive fonts, but he likes occasionally using really shitty fonts if it’ll piss other people off.

• Additionally, his robotic coding has made him practically a master at chess, even if he isn’t consciously aware of what he’s doing when playing it. Even he’s shocked with how good he is at it.

• I’m not entirely sure on this one, but I like to think that due to him being a robot and all, he can’t eat human foods like Demongo can. Luckily for him, the world of SJ most likely accommodates for robotic civilians, thus having shit like electronic-based foods and beverages… probably.

• I can also see the SJ universe having like… an abundance of repair or mechanic centers so any robotic citizens with a dismembered or missing arm can be fixed up quickly and with ease, so I’m sure Scara takes advantage of this… despite Demmy taking interest in wanting to learn how to help repair the big guy by himself, which Scara is flattered by the offer, but he doesn’t wanna risk Demmy accidentally doing some irreversible damage.

• Since it’s been shown in the og show that robots apparently sweat oil (ew), that also goes for Scara. This is mainly for consistency reasons, because unlike Genndy himself, Tigera and I enjoy consistency and proper continuity. >:/

• When wanting to be endearing towards Demongo, he’ll either call him “bud” (more so during season 1) or “hon” (more so during season 2). He has a plethora of other nicknames for the lil shit, but these two are the most common ones he dishes out.

• One prominent nickname he has for Demmy (mainly in season 2) is “Angel”. As ironic as it is, it holds some truth to Scara, and it funnily enough is Demmy’s favorite nickname the big guy’s ever given him.

• Much of his humor consists of “adult humor”, just as he demonstrated in the original show’s 5th season. We all know which scene I’m talking about. Even so, he tries not to overuse those jokes too much. He’s not a walking Family Guy gag. He’ll still chuckle to himself if he hears some sus-as-fuck wording, but he won’t be witty about it if shit’s too easy to joke about.

• Overall, Scara just likes to crack jokes, regardless of what kind of joke it is or if it’s even debatably funny. Demmy finds them all funny, but it’s DEFINITELY out of bias.

• Bro is absolutely pansexual. Gender doesn’t matter to him. Everyone’s hot to him. KANWKWMWOSK

• He’s had plenty of flings in the past and even some relationships that lasted quite a while, so he’s got a lot of experience when it comes to that kind of thing. It’s where he gets his patience and openness in his relationship with Demmy.

• Unlike Demongo, Scara is VERY social and finds it EASY to befriend people… or at least MOST people. He enjoys talking with people, no matter who they might be. Really, he just loves to talk, and if he clicks with anyone in the process, well, that’s just a bonus! This has resulted in Demmy getting a lil jealous sometimes, but since bro makes it obvious when he feels that way, Scara’s quick to reassure him and resolve the issue as efficiently as he can…

because I am SO SICK of that stupid fucking trope of a couple squabbling for THE ENTIRE PLOTLINE BECAUSE OF ONE STUPID MISUNDERSTANDING THAT THEY COULD’VE DEALT WITH IF THEY HAD JUST TALKED TO EACH OTHER-

Ahem

Sorry about that.

I am

VERY passionate about how I write romance in my stories.

…

Because I do it RIGHT for once.

• Since this AU does not have as long of a time skip as season 5 did, Scaramouche has not yet reached the big leagues regarding his job as an assassin. He’s still trying to make a name for himself and garner the attention of Aku. Because of this, he hasn’t reached the level of “mercilessness” he claims to have in season 5, refusing to kill people who either don’t have a bounty on their head or aren’t looking to kill HIM in turn. He’s still got a more humane outlook on life and other people, and he isn’t nearly as much of a jerk as he is in season 5… even if he still has quite a big ego.

• As much as he claims to strive for a life of fame and luxury, he’s only aiming to ensure a financially stable and comfortable life for himself. Having to live on his own after his creator’s passing was tough due to the financial limitations it put on him, and while he’s in a much better position by the time he meets Demmy, he still can’t help but feel at least a little insecure about his financial situation and how he’d be potentially looked down upon by others of a much higher social class. This insecurity drives him to be noticed by Aku, since he believes the big guy will ensure he’s never looked down upon again. However, this drive wavers as the story goes on.

• Over the course of the AU, Scara’s faith in Aku dwindles little by little as he learns more about Demongo’s past and how he was treated as someone who WAS in the big leagues for a little while. This all ultimately culminates when Jack pleads that the two turn against Aku, since they’ll both probably be killed or imprisoned regardless of what they choose to do. Scara WOULD have thoughtlessly disregarded Jack’s plea if it wasn’t for Demmy and his history pretty much confirming everything Jack was warning them about. THIS is why Scara chooses to back Demmy up and form a temporary alliance with Jack.

• In the event that his head is disconnected from his body (like in season 5), Scara has a very limited amount of backup power that can allow him to get himself to someone who can fix him up. I know his white eyes in the show were most likely a coloring error, but I like to think the change in eye color (in this AU specifically) indicates whenever he’s running on that backup power. Just like in the fifth season, he can also adapt to the bodies of other living creatures so it’s a lil easier for him to travel.

Miscellaneous

• Aku is comprised of petroleum... like… look at him. Bro’s big ol puddle form is practically just liquid petroleum. Plus, it explains what the fuck is up with his flaming eyebrows and beard. Most if not all of his demon servants are also made of this living petroleum substance, including Demongo. Petroleum IS pretty much just comprised of hydrocarbons after all.

• Since the concept of the fae has some origins in Scottish mythology, I thought it would be neat to include that shit in Scotsman’s character. Since Demongo is a mischievous magical being (and since demons overlap with the fae a lot in this kind of mythology), I can see the two characters having MAJOR beef with one another with the Scotsman claiming Demmy is nothing but a troublesome fae with Demongo taking GREAT offense to that claim, thus solidifying their pure hatred for one another.

• Despite Scara’s inclusion in this AU, the timeline roughly follows that of the comics where Jack DOES age normally and gets his sword destroyed at some point. Like in the comics, Aku IMMEDIATELY sensed when the sword was destroyed, which is why Jack needs to go into hiding and mask his appearance as best as he can to ensure Aku can never find him and take advantage of the situation. Jack would also later manifest the “spiritual” sword he gets in the comics. Some events in season 5 still occur, such as the Daughters of Aku still existing alongside the cult that raised them, but anything else that happened in season 5 that isn’t present in DoD’s story most likely didn’t happen in the AU.

• Despite Jack having his “sword” with him for the final fight, his sword alone cannot vanquish Aku for good. The sword is only just as good as the original sword, which would result in the same events that occurred when Jack’s father defeated Aku for the very first time. Aku would be merely sealed into the earth below until he could be freed by another inevitable solar eclipse. This is why Demongo is the one to truly defeat Aku. No solar eclipse will allow his essence to escape Demongo’s hold on him, and the only way for him to be set free is by defeating Demongo and freeing Aku from the inside out… or just by simply killing Demongo.

• While the Daughters of Aku are still a thing, they are no longer all twins. Only Ashi and Aki are twins. This is due to how the two wield the same exact weapon of choice in their initial fight with Jack. All the other daughters are the daughters of the cult followers who handed their children over to the head cultist to be raised and trained to one day kill Samurai Jack. This resulted in all of the unrelated daughters having completely different physiques from each other, all in accordance to their preferred weapon of choice. They also all vary in age with Ashi and Aki being the youngest. The twins are also the only ones who are the actual children of the head cultist. Since Aku never donated his own essence to the cult, it is unknown who the fathers of all these children are, assuming they’re even still alive.

• I like to think this AU takes place roughly 30 years after the last episode of the original series. Familiar characters aren’t as old as they would be in season 5, so characters like the Scotsman are still quite capable, even if he’s definitely no longer in his prime.

• Even if it’s only relevant for brief calendar scenes, I REALLY wanted to figure out a solid date for both the original series and the AU. Since Jack came from the Edo Period of Japan (or at the very least, it’s widely accepted that he did), I’d say it was roughly… 1624 when Jack was about to slay Aku before he got flung into the future. Imma say he probably got sent 400 years into the future, which would put him in 2024 by real-world time standards. However, since Aku was in charge, he instated his own universal rule for tracking time, with 1624 now being 0 BA (before Aku). This would put Jack in 400 AA (after Aku) or just 400. Since the AU takes place around 30 years later, this would mean the story takes place somewhere in the 430s… or I guess the 30s for short.

• Social media is still very much a thing in this universe, parodying the platforms we’re all familiar with in the real world. The only one that’s really relevant is the fictional counterpart to Twitter, which imma call Yapper cause it’s at least a better name than what it’s ACTUALLY being called nowadays. Scara absolutely has his own account where he frequently posts either funny shit or pictures of him and Demmy together. The big guy is NOT afraid to get gushy as fuck with the captions, so their relationship is not exactly a secret to the rest of the world. Demmy doesn’t have his own account because 1) he doesn’t have his own device to use it on, and 2) he’s a ✨people hater✨ and typically doesn’t care what other people think or do. Even so, he doesn’t mind Scara talking about him and sharing photos of the two of em online. He finds it really flattering, actually.

• In addition to the kinds of social media platforms you’d typically expect, there’s an additional forum posting site that involves the assassin, mercenary, and bounty hunter business, particularly since those are seen as legitimate occupations in this universe. This site, dubbed HeadTake, organizes and displays thousands upon thousands of different bounties for anyone to look into, each bounty being their own lil forum post listing who the target is, how much the bounty is, and so on. Additionally, to prevent countless hunters from going after the same bounty, every forum is organized via a lil ranking system depending on who issued the bounty, how much money is being offered, and how infamous the target is. The higher a user’s “rank”, the more bounties they’ll be able to access. Of course, Jack is his own beast entirely, getting his own special lil forum where only the best of the best are permitted and encouraged (by the site) to try and kill him. Scara has his own account on HeadTake where he’s obtained quite a high rank (especially with the help of Demongo), but he hasn’t quite reached the point of getting noticed by the likes of Aku yet.

• HeadTake allows for users to be composed of groups either by merging two existing accounts that can be separated later if needed or by simply updating the user’s status if any additional members never obtained their own account, such as Demongo. Ever since he and Scara started actively working together in season 1, the big guy had updated his account’s status to include the both of them in it, dubbing the two of them “the duo of doom” (roll credits). However, because of this feature, this site also would lead to the rise of the syndicate, the main antagonists of season 1. Speaking of…

• The Diamond Syndicate, or DiSy for short, is a massive conglomeration of assassins who all work under the same powerful leader. Using their riches and influence to coerce countless assassins into joining their ranks, DiSy has become a dangerous force to be reckoned with and does not take kindly to those who compete with them, especially for the same bounties.

• Instead of saying “what the hell,” the people in this universe will typically say something like “what in the Pit” since well… the Pit of Hate pretty much IS Hell to an extent.

• Just like Demongo, all other demons (including Aku) favor diets that consist of light elements, mainly junk food. Honestly, knowing Aku’s character, this makes a lot of sense KWMWKSMSODMON

OKAY

That’s all the headcanons and ideas I can think of for now, but I might still add onto this later on, so be sure to keep an eye on this post if you’re interested in how I write these characters and this universe in general.

Y’all have a good one!

#samurai Jack #SJ #SJ au #samurai Jack duo of doom #SJ DOD #Dod #duo of doom #cd au #CDverse #Demongo #Scaramouche #samurai jack scaramouche #fandango #scaramongo

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akashigadabi · 1 year

Text

Heartsong

Pairing: Yandere All For One x Consenting Reader

Summary: It’s late, and you’re listening to All For One’s heartbeat in the darkness and silence of your room.

Word Count: 673

Genre: Romantic Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Everything Is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts

Rating: M (for Reader’s own spicy thoughts LMAO)

Warnings: Soft Vibes, Reader Being Soft, Consensual Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Suggestive Language, All For One being asleep the entire damn time

Other: Reader has a quirk. Reader is written so reader is gender neutral as far as gender/gender identity and romantic or sexual orientation.

Ao3.

Delicate shadows hover throughout the room like gauzy black clouds. Your cheek rests just below your husband’s bare chest, nestled against the upper part of his tummy. Quiet thrumming fills your ear where it presses into the skin over his heart. Every beat of it fills you with a soft sense of awe. What a blessing to hear this sweet sound. An hour passes as you bask in the wonderful melody. Somehow, someway, something so inherently fragile keeps the powerful man lying beneath you alive. It seems surreal on some level. How could such an otherwise insignificant little thing fuel someone so sublime?

Doki-doki doki-doki doki-doki.

Such a tiny thing, yet it’s the hardest working muscle in his body. It’s almost comical, in a sense. After all, he’s jacked from head to toe. Every inch of him ripples with muscle. As you contemplate the fickle nature of life, you run your fingers over the thick cords encased in the tender flesh of his thighs, marveling at how firm they feel. You think absently about how he could kill somebody with these, with just the right amount of pressure exerted. It should scare you on some level, but it doesn’t.

Why would it? With every dull thud, All For One lives. All For One, who loves you. All For One, who swore his loyalty and devotion to you. All For One, who comforts you during rough times, who kisses away every tear, who showers you with gifts and affection. All For One, who seems like a work of art, even shrouded in late-night darkness.

Pale moonlight colors his white hair silver. It paints his eyelids a pretty lilac. The faint light managing to creep around the edges of the curtain bathes him in an ethereal glow. Now more than ever, he looks like an angel. A fallen one, since there’s just something a little too sinful about him even in slumber to allow you to associate him with too much purity.

Those slutty hips of his don’t help his case. They suggest debauchery even when he’s just laying in bed sleeping. Curious, that. It’s not all on you, either. All For One radiates it in his aura at a constant rate.

Anyone could look at him and tell that he fucks. They’d know as soon as they laid eyes on him. It’s in that sultry way he walks as much as that saucy drawl of his. It’s the way he carries himself, as if he could seduce your spouse and your parents on the same day.

Too pretty by half you croon internally, nuzzling your nose along his skin. His scent floods your nostrils, making you want to lick him. Saliva pools on your tongue anyway, taunting you. The urge to bite him increases. You fight the feral instincts, because one taste won’t be enough. It never amounts to enough. Everything about him intoxicates you, including his voice.

No doubt he’d find your internal monologue and subsequent struggle amusing if he was awake. Instead, he sleeps without missing a wink. He tends to fall asleep after you so he can gaze at you until he loses his battle against unconsciousness. Tonight, exhaustion from work dragged him under far sooner than normal, leaving you alone with your musings and observations for the past hour. Like how soft his hair feels, or how smooth his skin is. Little things like that.

Yes, too pretty by half indeed. A transcendent being from another world in darling husband shape, still underneath your body except for the steady rise and fall of his chest as his breath curls in and out of his lungs. So you lay awake, humming low in your throat, and simply admiring. What better way to spend your time right now?

Doki-doki doki-doki doki-doki.

You can’t distinguish between the two songs anymore. They’ve intertwined like gentle but enthusiastic lovers. Your heartbeats mingle together, creating a new melody. Your eyes drift shut as a sigh escapes you. Contentment settles deep in your bones.

All is well.

#afo x reader #all for one x reader #bnha x reader #lov x reader #soft all for one #soft reader #gender neutral language #gender neutral reader #reader insert

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blurrymango · 9 months

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You may not be the most braindead chronically online loser I've seen on here, but you're definitely in the top 10. Also I don't know how you think people would pay for your ugly ass low effort commissions, they range from looking like a 12 year old just discovered MS paint to a quarter finished doodle on some math homework

Well anon that's because some of them are quite literally made in MS Paint.

But also,my art is not low effort, I put time and love and joy into most everything I draw. Because I enjoy drawing.

Like yeah they're sloppy and scribbly and they look very unfinished but I like doing it.

Shit, even the MS Paint stuff I enjoy.

Yeah they're not good. But they're fun to make.

I draw mainly for myself. I draw my OCs a lot.

Because I enjoy it. I like what I do.

And I improve!

DOKI DOKI JUMPSCARE.

So uh.

Sorry you don't like my art, anon. And YEAH ffuck it does hurt a bit that no one wants to commission me, but that's ok. Because it doesn't stop me from making art that I enjoy.

Also yes I am chronically online blah blah blah I don't have a job yet and I'm not really trying all that hard to get one yadda yadda. I'm not a loser I'm a jock, I'm not braindead I'm autistic and correct and based and so on and so forth anyway why do you feel the need to hide behind anon or even send hateful shit in the first place? Who does it benefit? Not me, it's not going to make me change my beliefs, and it's certainly not helping you. I mean, you wasted your time seething over some autist online who makes "ugly low effort art" and I took that as an opportunity to show off some of my art.

I think instead of being a cringe hater, you should try being a based music fan. And by that I mean, I want people to listen to my playlist of songs I like immediately.

So yeah. :) :P :3

#mango man speaks

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twyz · 1 year

Text

Non vampire hc, woah!!! I know!!!!

Chucky would be the type of person who would be told not to huff paint fumes and then do it anyways

Like he probably did that while painting his apartment and Tiffany came back to that mural and him contently laying on his back on the ground in a lopsided star position rambling to himself about random things

And it'd go like

"Chucky, baby, what are you doing?"

"seeking answers from those worthy enough to know them,"

".....okay well you have fun with that, I'm gonna go make dinner,"

"okie dokie,"

#twyz #he is dazed out of his MIND #like #the walls and what not are spinning and hes just trying to sit it out #he'd also probably fall asleep on the floor because he got comfortable #chucky #charles lee ray #tiffany valentine #bride of chucky #childs play #cult of chucky #chucky series #txt

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gkingoffez · 2 years

Text

take my whole life too

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

Words: 1350

AO3

Two guards grab Ed as soon as he steps inside.

“This way, Blackbeard,” one says with vicious delight, while the other gestures pointedly down the hall with the barrel of his musket.

How can you fucks even walk straight with those sticks so far up your asses, he wants to say.

“Okie dokie then,” comes out instead and he follows, clutching the pile of new clothes and the plain, not very delicious smelling soap to his chest.

They push him in to a small washroom that needs to be unlocked, closing the door behind them. Tell him to change, which he does without argument, even as they leer and snigger to each other like it’s a grand show. His leathers and empty holsters are snatched away (“Straight into a fire, I expect!” laughs the guard as he passes them to someone out the door) and Ed is left in a white scratchy shirt and absurdly loose pants. He waits.

The room holds little but a plain basin, a windowsill laid with towels and linens in front of a latched window that looked like it would open with easy force, and a tall wooden stool, the purpose of which became clear when a rapt knock signals the arrival of a stern looking older man with a sharply pointed moustache, a weathered and patched apron hung around his hips.

“Sit, pirate,” the man says with little but a glance.

No one talks to me like that, dog.

Obediently, Ed sits, watching as the man places a bowl of lightly steaming water on the sill and pulls a leather pouch from his apron.

“What’cha got there, mate-ah, I see.”

A few weeks prior, this would have been Ed’s worst nightmare. The pouch unfurls to reveal a razor kit, including a brush and small tin of soap or some shit, he isn’t sure, not having had need of one for several years.

“Can’t have you serving his Majesty looking like a feral savage now, can we?” remarks one of the guards with high mirth. Ed ignores him.

The old man slips out the razor and a small whetstone from another pocket, expertly sharpening the blade with steady and practised strokes. The sound is familiar-metal scraping on stone, filling the tiny room ominously.

“Don’t suppose this is up for negotiation?” jokes Ed.

“Fuck no,” replies a guard. Ed doesn’t bother to work out which one, their prissy coats and wigs are exactly the same anyways.

All too soon the old man has opened the tin, and steps forward to grab Edward’s face to spread the soapy-cream-whatever across his cheeks and mouth with the harder than expected brush head in wide swirly strokes. It takes every ounce of restraint from Ed to let him, the stuff bubbling and the sensation unwelcome, and he needs to reach down to grip the stool beneath his ass to otherwise occupy his hands

“You know, when they told me the dreaded Blackbeard had raised the white flag, I didn’t believe it,” the old man says casually and quietly, mouth thin in concentration, painting Ed’s face like an artist would a canvas and peering at him with wrinkled eyes. “Even less so when they said you’d taken the Act. I’m curious; why, by the grace of the Good Lord, would someone with your reputation do that?”

Ed’s hands clutch tighter to the stool. The room is too small, the guards leaning forward far too eagerly, the knife far too close where it waits, freshly sharp, on a towel next to the water bowl.

It would need to be sudden- the old man would go down with a solid punch, maybe even just a push, with a leap across the room the razor would be in Ed’s hands in a matter of seconds, and the guards wouldn’t be nearly quick enough to aim their guns, too disarmed by how pliable Ed had been up until that point. It’d be messy but over quickly, and he could be out the window before anyone else even came to investigate, through the forest and in a dingy rowing back to sea within the hour.

It wasn’t his best plan ever, but it would probably have worked if he was so inclined.

But… well, he wasn’t.

Blonde curls, brown eyes, fine silks. Staring at a moth like it was the most wonderous thing in the world; pinned by a blade to a mast, and yet still grinning with delight, the madman; asking Blackbeard, scourge of the seven seas, how he likes his tea; reading fucking bedtime stories to an attentive crew on deck and a thousand other little eccentricities flit across Ed’s mind.

“Like to keep myself unpredictable, ya know mate?” he says, forcing on a shit eating grin, acting like he hasn’t gone absolutely mental internally at a stranger touching his throat and face, like he hasn’t just thought about gutting the guards in front of the only door, like he isn’t a man backed so far against a wall he almost feels the wood and plaster melding to his skin.

The old man hmphs at the reply, perhaps in disappointment, and turns back to the windowsill, stirring the brush in the water.

Ed forces himself to breathe, the wet and bubbly feeling of the cream almost overwhelming. He can do this. He must do this.

He makes himself remember- a firing squad unloading their rifles, Chauncey Badminton being hauled away screaming bloody murder and the quill in his hand scraping an X (the symbol of a man’s last desperate attempt to stave off the worst) across paper. All of it, nullified in a second if he acts on any plan, makes a wrong move, or even pisses off the wrong person.

A beard was just hair, and would grow back if he so wanted it to; Stede Bonnet’s death would be far more permanent, and whole fucking lot worse.

It doesn’t really matter that he’s only known Stede for about a month. The man is a lunatic in all the best ways, all fine clothes and fine books and fine words that could light a ship on fire. Bookshelves and a fireplace and an auxiliary wardrobe on a boat like that wasn’t absolutely insane to any experienced seaman. Three entire outfit ensembles of a similar blue colour with differing trims, summer linen and winter furs, lavender soap and soft hair and soft skin and those fucking soft lips-

And Ed tells himself that it doesn’t even really matter if the doesn’t have the same heart-thumping feeling Ed felt whenever they lock gazes (a gentleman that had been married to a lady probably didn’t have indecent thoughts for dirty pirates, although there has been moments that made him wonder), all he needs is for him to live. That was enough, it has to be enough.

Stede Bonnet, and all his gentle, crazy stupidness, alive and well. Yeah. That’s all he wants.

It goes against everything Blackbeard stood for, and Izzy would be spitting, and be is admittedly more than a little terrified, but Ed hadn’t been so sure about something for years. He’ll do anything- raise a thousand white flags, become a navy man again, suck off everyone from that fucker Badminton right up to the bloody King of England to keep the bizarre and beautiful man named Stede Bonnet alive (and preferably in reach) for the rest of his natural life.

The old man steps close again, brandishing the razor.

“Hold still, pirate, I’ll get paid more if I don’t cut ‘ya.”

Ed swallows. Bites back another sarcastic retort.Then, for what is maybe the first time in his life, Edward Teach found a blade coming for him that he doesn’t try to move away from.

Not even a little.

Months later, a newspaper lays before him on the table, pinned flat with every knife Blackbeard owns.

STEDE BONNET, WEALTHY LANDOWNER THOUGHT DEAD, DIES SHORTLY AFTER MIRACULOUS RETURN

And Blackbeard drags a hand down his scratchy, stubbled face, further smearing the charcoaled facade there, and thinks-

Nothing. All of it for absolutely fucking nothing.

Wrote this last night over a glass of Baileys. Tried to aim for 500 words, failed.

I have been thinking about Them non stop for two weeks and it’s not gonna stop. I have two different reunion fics in progress. I have literally risen from the fanfiction grave for this show.

Let me know what you thought about this, especially about the present tense. It’s not for every fic, but I do like it occasionally.

#our flag means death #ofmd #blackbeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd fanfiction #G writes

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