#running off with an evil clown

[jokeringcutio]

Could u please do reader x joker 2019?

Reader protects Arthur (before he turned into joker) from when his sign was taken and she beat the kids up and he won’t ever forget that moment. But now,Arthur turned into the joker, he returns the favour by saving her from bad guys?

And when he saves her, he walks elegantly towards her 😫✨ and says “I missed you, doll” 🫣🫣🫣😭✨

Title: Savior Fandom: Joker 2019 Pairing: Arthur Fleck (Joker)  x Reader Rating: Mature for safety. Warnings: Violence, (attempted) sexual assault, Crude Language, Clown beating, Blood, Murder. AN: I wrote two versions of this. A sweeter tale, after which I realized the prompt specifically said that the Reader beats those bad boys up – so I rewrote it. Now I really struggled with how the Joker saved the Reader in this. I’ve written several different scenarios, but none of them felt right. In the end, I decided to base it on personal experience and went along with something that happened to me and frightened me a lot while I was in university. And that was passing this certain school and the young men that tried to sometimes sexually assault you there. It never went as far as in this fic, though, thank the lucky stars. But I had to push the situation a bit more to get a more satisfying end to their lives >D

Be warned, the boys in the second part try to attempt to rape the reader (I won’t go as far as clothes being torn off etc, but they do try to drag her into an alley and scold her).

So if any of this triggers you, please, do not read and hold out for the sweeter fill of this prompt that I will be posting later on <3

~ Savior Fill : I Can Handle Myself ~

The boys ran past you with such haste, it was as if a train passed you. You followed them with your eyes, frowning, and inwardly cursed how rude they had been to nearly trample you on their way past you. But you didn’t have long to think angry thoughts, because a man rushed by, clearly in pursuit. A clown, you thought, eyes now wide. A clown with a green wig cap adorned with curly fake hair and ridiculously big shoes. It must make his steps that much harder. How did he manage to keep up, you wondered.

“Hey, stop them!” the clown shouted. But the boys were shouting back profanities and crossed the road. The clown was nearly hit twice by a car as he followed. One glance around you told you that no one had bothered to run after them. Though some people stood and watched, most seemed to ignore the weird scene. You didn’t hesitate a single moment, though, and ran.

It had been hard to cross the road, but once you were on the other side, you came to a halt and your eyes darted from side to side. Where had they gone to? Then you spotted the clown as his feet slipped from the pavement and he caught himself with his hands. He’d nearly fallen but scrambled up to his feet again before he dashed into one of the alleys. He disappeared out of sight, but you had memorized the spot and made your way over to it as swiftly as you could.

At the entrance of the alleyway, you stood still to observe something you had hoped you would never see. Five teenagers stood huddled around the clown. His bright yellow sign lay scattered upon the floor, broken as if smashed against something. The man was quiet but conscious. You could see how he tried to shield his body from the incoming blows. And your mind went haywire.

You didn’t even register how you moved in on the boys, you suddenly just stood behind them. One high kick was enough to hit the first one on his shoulder. The tall teenager turned around, clearly confused, but you gave him little time to retaliate. Instead, he met your fist eye-first, and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the clown’s shivering frame.

At this point, the others boys had noticed your presence and they stopped their assault on the man. Instead, they turned to you. Eyes all dark and glowering, teeth shown. Like rabid dogs, you thought. But there was no time for thinking now.

You held your arms up in front of your face, hands curled into fists. A little hop to your step as you sprung side to side like you’d seen boxers do on the television.

“How about it, boys?” you whispered. You had wanted to sound cool, but something in your voice broke. It didn’t come out sad though, just a little husky. The boy whom you had dubbed their leader because he was taller and seemed to be the one to take initiative took a step closer to you. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Leave the clown alone,” you demanded, then ducked when the anticipated attack struck you right after. The boy’s knee was up to hit your chest, but you had seen it coming and darted out of its way. A fist was launched at your face, but either by sheer luck or good reactional skills, you managed to block it with your arms.

The move seemed to surprise the boy as much as it did you, because he took a second to recover before he tried to hit you again.

The others boys now joined in, the clown forgotten behind them. They inched closer to you with fists raised until a second boy launched himself at you, and all of a sudden, hands and legs were swung in your direction like a flurry.

You didn’t manage to dodge all of the blows, but you made a lucky move when you crouched down to avoid them, then kicked out your leg. Your foot hit an ankle, and one of the boys fell, taking the boy next to him with him by accident. With two down, you sprung up again and hurdled yourself at one of the remaining three. It was one of the smaller ones, an easier target. You tackled him to the floor in a tight hug, then let go of him the moment he lay down. Seated on top of him, you smashed your fist against his cheek, a blow that pushed his head into the dirt and the crumbling asphalt below. Then you moved off of him.

Just in time, it seemed. The two boys who still stood rushed forward to you. In a fit of panic, you reached next to you. The road was littered with garbage that had been torn from the many uncollected garbage bags, and your hand closed around something sharp. What the hell was it?

It didn’t matter. This was your life you were concerned about. With eyes closed, you flung the sharp object away from you, only to hear a gasp come from the boys. Had you hit one of them?

But when you opened your eyes, you saw they were unharmed. But they were gasping at something, eyes raised to the sky. You looked up to see your shot had cut one of the electricity cables that hung above the alley. The cable dangled dangerously above your heads, a crackling sound and sparks erupted from the cut end.

“Come on,” one of the boys then shouted, “Let’s go, let’s go!” The boy still on the ground jumped up to his feet. Blood seeped from a gash on his cheek. He threw you an accusing glare, but made no comment, before he turned away from you and the dangling electricity cable, then ran off.

The other boys followed until you were left alone in the alley. Alone apart from the shivering clown.

You ignored the cable above your head, as you did the shouts of someone in one of the apartments who was cursing that their television had stopped working. Hurriedly, you crawled over to the hunched form of the man, and then slowly bent over him. He kept his hands between his legs. Must have taken a few hard kicks to the balls, you thought. You felt pity for him.

If only you could have chased them off earlier. If only you could have spared him this fate.

“Hey,” you carefully started, your hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug your hand away, but he did flinch when you first touched him. But then, as he heard your voice, his eyes opened and he looked up at you. Your heart nearly stopped beating, because the eyes that locked with yours were the brightest green you had ever seen. So pretty. Accentuated by the clown’s makeup and his hair, certainly, but ever so beautiful.

You could have asked him then if he was okay, but that would have been a superfluous question. Of course he wasn’t. He was beaten up, and bruised, his sign shattered. There was nothing you could do to help his bruises, you knew that. But perhaps there was a chance to bring him comfort, to soften those mental wounds he must have received so they wouldn’t scar as badly.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, again. Your hand slid to the man’s white-painted cheek.

He smiled.

2.

You’d nearly forgotten the man you had once saved. The mysterious clown who hadn’t given you his name and hadn’t accepted any offers to help him. It had been as if he was scared of you. The way his shoulders raised when you spoke to him and how he avoided looking into your eyes. You had caught him looking at you though. Whenever you looked away his eyes would be upon you, and there’d be awe within them. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real.

But that was months ago.

When you met him again, you were on your way home. This particular street led you past a community college building, a place where young men often loitered about, hands in their pockets, leering at you when you passed by. You’d gotten used to the whistles and the comments. You thought it was normal until one of your fellow female students pointed out that they never called after her.

Passing this street didn’t always make you feel safe, so when you were particularly tired, you’d go the long way around to the train station. But today, you wanted to take the shortcut. A choice you instantly regretted.

“Oi, pretty girl,” one of the boys wearing a hoodie, hands in his pockets like they usually had, shouted the moment he saw you. He came heading your way, a weird lilt to his step. You instantly knew this wasn’t going to be okay. “Oi, come here,” he said.

Behind him, a friend of his emerged out of the shadows of the building. A crooked smile upon his face and an evil glint in his eyes. “I think you have a little time for us, don’t you?” the boy said.

Two more friends emerged and you quickly scanned the area. Somehow, you were all alone. No other students were behind you, just in front, but they had just rounded the corner and were long gone.

The streets seemed empty as it was already getting late. The setting sun shone over the street tiles, making them shimmer. With hands flexed, you made to turn around, but the first boy managed to corner you.

“Uh-uh, I don’t think so,” he said. You wrinkled your nose in disgust when you saw he had grabbed you by the arm. His grip was tight and unpleasant. You started to feel scared for being surrounded by these young men who clearly wanted a thing from you that you were unwilling to give them. “Here, baby, don’t be difficult. Now, you’re gonna be good to me and my friends?”

You flinched, certain of one thing. You were not going to make this easy for them.

With as much strength as you could muster, you pulled your arm back sharply. An attempt to bring your arm back to your belly, but the boy’s hand remained attached. It hadn’t worked.

With gritted teeth, you flung your knee up to aim at either his chest or his balls. You hoped to hit the latter. But once again the boy was too swift. He used your own arm to block the attack, which hurt darn much. You winced and bit back a cry at the pain you felt. Stupid, you thought. You probably had bruised your own arm.

Another attempt from you to twist out his hands, but the second boy gripped your shoulders from behind and forced your body still. You cursed, loudly. “Let go of me,” you said as loudly as you could. “Let go, or I’ll scream.”

This threat instantly triggered a third boy to cover your lips with his palm. “You try and fight back bitch, and we’ll fuck your cunt into a bloody mess.”

With eyes wide of shock, because how dare they scold and denigrate you like this? You noticed how the four of them started to drag you into the narrow alley next to the building. An alley, you knew, would mean the end of it. Because how many people passed this street? And how many of them would think to look in that alley on their way? Your chances to escape would be zero to none.

No, your mind screamed. No, this can’t be how it goes. This can’t happen to me.

You struggled with all your might, even if it were hardly possible to move within their arms. All it earned you was a hard whack against the head, and a kick against your shin. More bruises, you thought, panicking. You had to get out.

Just before they could pull you into the alley, you had the mind to bite the boy whose arm had circled around your shoulders and who covered your mouth in the hand. He cried out. Then suddenly his hands were gone, and he fell face-first next to you. His head inside the alley. His body was limp.

You looked at him confused. Had your bite done that? But then a second boy, this time to your other side, called out. A high-pitched yell of pain. Arms flailing, he fell down to the ground as well, leaving only the two boys behind your back.

Their hands let go of you, and finally you were able to turn around. There they stood, both boys with their backs turned to you. Their attention all upon a new man who had appeared behind them. A man in a red suit, stylish, if not for the many spots upon it. Had he spilled coffee, you wondered at first. But no, it would have been a lot of coffee. The spatters were too many and too far apart. Then what could it be?

The man stood face down, a cigarette held between his lips and fingers, the tip glowing. You could not see his face, but something about his posture seemed familiar. Like a distant memory was awoken upon the sight of him. You’d seen this man before, but where?

His other hand rested inside his pants pocket, lazily, elbow hooked. Nothing about him indicated what had just been done, so you didn’t notice it at first. Not until he blew a small cloud while the cigarette left his lips, and he finally looked up at you all. You saw the paleness of his face. Not natural, but made by makeup. Familiar, you thought again. But it couldn’t be him, could it? The blue triangles near his eyes. The green tangled hair.

This man was dressed as a clown, you realized. A clown you’d seen pictures of before on the television, and on the wanted posters all around the city. A villain recently sought after by Wayne and the authorities.

The Joker.

No wonder you had thought you recognized him. A man known to be ruthless. Cold needles spread all over your spine and you froze up with fear. You knew you had to go, to escape, to run fast and as far as you could before he ended your life like had the lives of so many others. His reasons were often left unknown. Not just Wayne’s men had been murdered, dozens more.

But then your eyes turned to the two boys on the floor and you realized the clown must have a gun. Red had started to spread, leaking from the chests of the boys down onto the street tiles below. Their clothes were stained with the red liquid that was now rapidly spreading.

They’d been shot.

Then the stains on the clown’s suit weren’t made by coffee at all. They were blood as well.

You looked up again in fear, eyes wide. But the Joker’s gaze was not upon you. It was fixed firmly upon the boys in front of you. His hand rested lazily in the pocket of his red pants. Probably where he is hiding the gun, you mused.

“I think you have something of mine there,” was all Joker needed to say for the boys in front of you to start stumbling backward. What was it? You wondered. What did they have? What had you found yourself entangled in? Their screams echoed throughout the alley as they turned on their heels to run. They made it past you, into the narrow street, but only made it in several paces before one by one, they were shot in the back. Cowardly, you thought, but they oh-so deserved it for what they had tried to do to you.

They fell forward, their bodies slumped. You didn’t know if they were instantly dead, or if their life was slowly slipping away from them. You didn’t care to watch. Instead, you turned your head back to the Clown Prince of Crime, a title given to him by the most ruthless and the most influential of all men in Gotham.

The Joker stood where he had been standing. The only change was his now raised arm, a smoking gun aimed at where the boys once had run. Your heart nearly stopped of fear, and you hardly dared to keep your eyes upon him. Surely, he would shoot you next. Whatever this was, whatever this had been, he would probably assume you were part of the group. Had they stolen something from him? Did he want it back enough to kill them for it? Why should he spare you?

With your eyes averted, nearly closed while you trembled in fear, you heard his steps upon the tiled street. His soles slipped upon the glistening tiles, still wet from the rain earlier today, before the sun had started to peek through the clouds.

You heard how he walked towards you, taking his time, a cigarette in his hand, still burning. Then he brought it to his lips and took a long drag before he exhaled slowly. Little clouds of white swirled up from his lips to disappear into the early summer sky while he tilted your head with one finger, forcing you to lock eyes with his own.

They were the purest green you had ever seen. It was within that instant that you recognized him as the clown whose life you had once saved. Eyes that had once been filled with terror and disbelief, but had been ever so green that they had drawn you in. Eyes that had once looked at you as if he could not believe you were real. The gaze in them was the same. That look that told you he had a hard time believing that you existed.

But why?

This man had once been hunched over, frightened for his life, trembling. But now it was you who was in his place. And something in his gaze softened. You saw the recognition in his eyes and thought he must have spotted yours.

His fingers upon your chin tightened. The way he studied you while he moved your face with his hand, tilting it from side to side as he took you in the sight of you, made something in his eyes change. His gaze became more intense, darker.

Then his head dipped forward and his lips were planted against yours. The taste of bitter smoke and something unique to him invaded your senses. It felt pleasant. Unexpected, but heartwarming. A butterfly rose in your chest and wanted to fly, hot flames licked the insides of your belly. And this man had done all that with just one kiss.

And then he withdrew, but his eyes remained focused upon your lips. As if he was hungry for more, a craving you shared with him. He seemed to be catching his breath, his chest moved rapidly up and down, while his fingers finally slid free from your face so he could place his hands on your hips. You placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him, lips parted in a silent sigh, a quiet invitation for him to kiss your lips again. The Clown Prince of Crime happened to be your very own clown.

“I missed you, doll,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low. He had no idea how much you had missed him. "I think you'd be a lot safer in my arms, don't you?" he hummed, and you didn't think to go against him.

The newspapers reported you missing the very next day.

[ferrouswheel11]

Titans killed off Deathstroke AND the Joker AND Lex Luthor I fucking love this show

[flufflecat]

pov you're any of the baldurs gate villains and you look outside your evil tower to see this standing at the gates waiting to slaughter your entire army

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[snowyfrostshadows]

Kinda. Kinda like this???

Florosprout!Mario/SPM brainwashed Mario has so much potential but everyone just turns him into a Mr. L clone. He has potential to be the hottest bitch alive but instead you Mr. L clone him. Mr. L is the inverse of Luigi in his key aspects- He's loud, fearless, and wants to be the center of attention. It also emphasizes his key traits to an unhealthy degree- His jealousy of his brother is now his main motivation rather than a background thought process he oftentimes can ignore. Florosprout Mario would NOT be like Mr. L, he would be more akin to someone like Dimentio in all honesty; Emphasizing his love of making people happy to that unhealthy degree via "clownification" while ditching his honest nature for one much more manipulative and dishonest. He'd be like a brooding shy but creepy clown or something you people don't even understand

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dm Tip: Playing the Villain/ Guidelines for "Evil" Campaigns

I've never liked the idea of running an evil game, despite how often I've had people in my inbox asking how I'd go about it. I'm all about that zero-to-hero heroic fantasy not only because I'm a goodie twoshoes IRL but because the narrative-gameplay premise that d&d is built around falls apart if the party is a bunch of killhappy murder hobos. Not only would I get bored narrating such a game and indulging the sort of players who demands the freedom to kill and torture at will (I've had those before and they don't get invited back to my table), but the whole conceit of a party falls through when the obviously villainous player characters face their first real decision point and attempt to kill eachother because cooperation is a thing that goodguys do.

Then I realized I was going about it all wrong.

The problem was I had started out playing d&d with assholes, those "murder and torture" clowns who wanted to play grand-theft-auto in the worlds I'd created and ignore the story in favour of seeing how much unchallenged chaos they could create. They set my expectations for what an evil campaign was, and I spent the rest of my time developing as a dungeonmaster thinking " I Don't want any part of that"

But what would an evil campaign look like for my playgroup of emotionally healthy friends who understand character nuance? What would I need to change about the fundamental conceit of d&d adventures to refocus the game on the badguys while still following a similar enough narrative-gameplay premise to a hero game? How do we make that sort of game relatable? What sort of power/play fantasy can we indulge in without going off the deepend?

TLDR: In an evil campaign your players aren't playing the villains, they're the MINIONS, they're mooks, henchmen, goons, lackeys. They're the disposable underlings of uncaring overseers who have nothing but ill intent towards them and the world at large.

Where as in a hero game the party is given the freedom to challenge and overthrow corrupt systems, in an evil game the party is suck as part of that corrupt system, forced to bend and compromise and sacrifice in order to survive. The fantasy is one of escaping that corrupt system, of biding your time just long enough to find an opening, find the right leverage, then tossing a molitov behind you on the way out.

Fundamentally it's the fantasy of escaping a shitty job by bringing the whole company down and punching your asshole boss in the face for good measure.

Below the cut I'm going to get into more nuance about how to build these kinds of narratives, also feel free to check out my evil party tag for campaigns and adventures that fit with the theme.

Designing a campaign made to be played from the perspective of the badguys requires you to take a different angle on quest and narrative design. It’s not so simple as swapping out the traditionally good team for the traditionally bad team and vis versa, having your party cut through a dungeon filled with against angel worshiping holyfolk in place of demon worshipping cultists etc. 

Instead, the primary villain of the first arc of the campaign should be your party’s boss. Not their direct overseer mind you, more CEO compared to the middle managers your party will be dealing with for the first leg of their journey. We should know a bit about that boss villain’s goals and a few hints at their motivation, enough for the party to understand that their actions are directly contributing to that inevitable doom.

“Gee, everyone knows lord Heldred swore revenge after being banished from the king’s council for dabbling in dark magic. I don’t know WHY he has us searching for these buried ancient tablets, but I bet it’s not good”

Next, you need a manager, someone who’s a part of the evil organization that the party directly interfaces with. The manager should have something over the party, whether it be threats of force, blackmail, economic dependency… anything that keeps the antiheroes on the manager’s leash. Whether you make your manager an obvious asshole or manipulative charmer, its important to maintain this power imbalance:   The party arn’t going to be rewarded when the boss-villain’s plan goes off, the manager is, but the manager’s usefulness to the boss-villain is contingent on the work they’re getting the party to do.  This tension puts us on a collison course to our first big narrative beat: do the party get tired of the manager’s abuse and run away? Do they kill the manager and get the attention of the upper ranks of the villainous organization? Do they work really hard at their jobs despite the obvious warning signs and outlive their usefulness? Do they upstage their manager and end up getting promoted, becoming rivals for the boss-villain’s favor? 

Building this tension up and then seeing how it breaks makes for a great first arc, as it lets your party determine among themselves when enough is enough, and set their goals for what bettering the situation looks like. 

As for designing those adventures, you’ll doubtlessly realize that since the party arn’t playing heroes you’ll need to change how the setup, conflict, and payoff work. They’re still protagonists, we want them to succeed after all, but we want to hammer home that they’re doing bad things without expecting them to jump directly to warcrimes. 

Up to no good: The basic building block of any evil campaign, our party need to do something skullduggerous without alerting the authorities.  This of course is going to be easier said than done, especially when the task spins out of control or proves far more daunting than first expected. The best the party can hope for is to make a distraction and then escape in the chaos, but it will very likely end with them being pursued in some manner (bounties, hunters, vengeful npcs and the like).  Use this setup early in a campaign so you have an external force gunning for your party during the remainder of their adventures. 

Dog eat dog:  It’s sort of cheating to excuse your party’s villainous actions by having them go up against another villain who happens to be worse than they are. The trick is that we’re not going after this secondary group of outlaws because they’re bad, we’re doing it because they’ve either got something the boss wants, or they’re edging in on the boss’s turf.  This sort of plotline sees the party disrupting or taking advantage of a rival’s operation, then taking over that operation and risking becoming just as villainous as that rival happened to be. This can also be combined with an “Up to no good” plot where both groups of miscreants need to step carefully without alerting an outside threat. 

The lesser evil: This kind of plot sees your party sent out to deal with an antagonistic force that’s a threat not only to the boss’s plans but to everyone in general. In doing so they might end up fighting alongside some heroes, or accidentally doing good in the long run. This not only gives your party a taste of heroism, but gives them something in their back pocket that could be used to challenge the boss-villain in the future.  

The double cross: In order to get what they want, the party need to “play along” with a traditional heroic narrative long enough to get their goal and then ditch. You have them play along specifically so they can get a taste of what life would be like if they weren't bastards, as well as to make friends with the NPCs inevitably going to betray. This is to make it hurt when you have the manager yank the leash and force the party to decide between finishing the job , or risk striking out on their own and playing hero in the short term while having just made a long term enemy. This is sort of plot is best used an adventure or two into the campaign, as the party will have already committed some villainous deeds that one good act can’t blot out. 

Next, lets talk about the sort of scenarios you should be looking to avoid when writing an evil campaign:

Around the time I started playing d&d there was this trend of obtusely binary morality systems in videogames which claimed to offer choice but really only existed to let the player chose between the power fantasy of being traditionally virtuous or the power fantasy of being an edgy rebel. Early examples included:

Do you want to steal food from disaster victims? in Infamous

Do you as a space cop assault a reporter who’s being kind of annoying to you? in Mass Effect

Do you blow up an entire town of innocent people for the lols? in Fallout (no seriously check out hbomberguy’s teardowm on fallout 3’s morality system and how critics at the time ate it up)

I think these games, along with the generational backwash of 90s “edge” and 00s “grit” coloured a lot of people's expectations ( including mine) about what a "villain as protagonist" sort of narrative might look like. They're childish exaggerations, devoid of substance, made even worse by how blithely their narratives treat them.

Burn down an inn full of people is not a good quest objective for an evil party, because it forces the characters to reach cartoonish levels of villainy which dissociates them from their players. Force all the villagers into the inn so we can lock them inside and do our job uninterrupted lets the party be bad, but in a way that the players can see the reason behind it and stay synced up with their characters. The latter option also provides a great setup for when the party's actually monstrous overseer sets the inn on fire to get rid of any witnesses after the job is done. Now the party (and their players) are faced with a moral quandary, will they let themselves be accessories to a massacre or risk incurring their manager's wrath? Rather than jumping face first into cackling cruelty, these sorts of quandaries have them dance along the knife's edge between grim practicality and dangerous uncertainly; It brings the player and character closer together.

Finally, lets talk about ending the villain arc:

I don't think you can play a whole evil campaign. Both because the escalation required is narratively unsustainable, but also because the most interesting aspect of playing badguys is the breaking point. Just like heroes inevitably having doubts about whether or not they're doing the right thing, there's only so long that a group of antiheroes can go along KNOWING they're doing the wrong thing before they put their feet down and say "I'm out". I think you plan a evil campaign up until a specific "there's no coming back from this" storybeat, IE letting the Inn burn... whether or not the party allows it to happen, it's the lowest point the narrative will allow them to reach before they either fight back or allow themselves to be subsumed. If they rebel, you play out the rest of the arc dismantling the machine they helped to build, taking joy in its righteous destruction. If they keep going along, show them what they get for being cogs: inevitably betrayed, sacrificed, or used as canon fodder when the real heroes step in to do their jobs for them.

Art

[eroguron0nsense]

The Mysterious Mysteries of Mr Sir Crocodile (Character Analysis)

(Apologies in advance for discrepancies from my usual tone and for holding off on everyone who voted for this on my last poll. Honest to God I hope y'all enjoy this in some capacity because I've been procrastinating on this meta so long it's derailed ALL my other One Piece writing and I only accomplished it through addy-fuelled mania)

This was such a fucking pain to write. I really wanted to say something about Crocodile and what makes him so fascinating that wasn't like, another fan theory or just a set of headcanons, but that's easier said than done?? We could boil it down to immaculate design, screen presence, attitude, or just the fact that he got brought back as an unlikely ally who shocked everyone by saving the protagonist, but I don't know that those factors in and of themselves make for a villain who's become such an object of fandom obsession.

Whatever it is, it's certainly not backstory or depth, because 24 years and hundreds and hundreds of chapters after his introduction, we still know nothing about Sir Crocowani's past beyond a vague confrontation with the Late Great Edward Newgate (that apparently like, ruined his dreams or something?), and some totally-not-just-a-threat-to-out-him-if-he-betrayed-the-alliance blackmail material the Queen of the Queers is holding over his sandy reptilian ass. I was born and grew into adulthood in the time it took Oda to tell the world fuck all about where he's from or his inner thoughts, or his actual honest motivations and traumas.

All we have about this character are questions. Why did he save Luffy and Ace –very conspicuously after both of their lineages were revealed to the world– against all logic and reason? Does he have ties to the revolutionaries? Is he the long-lost son of Rocks D. Xebec? Did he bounce on Comrade Dragon's Monkey D and squirt out the fucking Warrior of Liberation? I assume Oda's going to tell us more about him, but at this point, he's managed to keep a tighter lid on Sir Crocs, Inc.'s past than the fucking Secret History

You may be wondering, dear reader: what the fuck is my point? What is there, at this final stage of Long Running Pirate Manga, for me–Frankie EroGuroNonsense, OP Tumblr Community Z-lister with like, 7 mildly popular meta posts under my belt–to write about the legendary Sir Krokorok that hasn't already been said or theorized? What eagle-eyed observations did I make while rereading Alabasta and writing toxic Crobin fanfic? Am I going anywhere with this? Sorta. Yeah.

Let's start with listing things we actually know about Crockpot, in roughly chronological (??) order: –attended Gol D.'s execution way back when he was my age, along with anyone else who's anyone from his generation.

–At some point, met and was known well enough by Iva that she could effectively blackmail him

–Made it far enough on the Grand Line, somehow getting to the New World, and managed to pick up an 81,000,000 bounty (low end for a warlord, presumably scouted fairly early in his career)

–Wanted to be Pirate King until he gave up on it, not 100% explicitly confirmed but most likely due to getting his ass beat so badly by Whitebeard that he settled for picking off small fry and racketeering behind a government desk job. This makes him profoundly relatable to the rest of us depressed fucking losers who acquiesce to our own mediocrity.

–At 30, after presumably licking his wounds for a hot minute, sets up shop in Alabasta, comes up with a clever evil plan to quietly build up enough arms to conquer the world with a WMD, and then gets his years-long bioterrorist coup attempt foiled by a 17-year-old.

The rest we know: after a brief moment of glory as the unsung MVP of Impel Down/Marineford, he immediately reverts to Failguy Mode, gives all his money to a literal clown, and consequently gets roped into the neverending uncontrollable PR nightmare that is Cross Guild. It's still super vague and we know little to nothing about his past before the Alabasta Saga (for all we know he had a fling with King Cobra)

...Onto his personality and mannerisms. This shit's a lot more revealing. Superficially, he's everything: immaculate Bond villain levels of charismatic villainy, unbelievably ostentatious, dripped out like a Pimp, constantly smoking cigars, absolutely dripping with smugness and grease and disdain. Owns exotic pets and a giant casino, and spends every waking moment either grinning like a maniac when he's got the upper hand or storming around in a fucking mood when anything goes mildly wrong.

He's also pretty hardened underneath all that, obviously couldn't have lived a day on the grand line or survived Impel Down Torture otherwise. But even in Alabasta, Crockery gives off an air of being distinctly more grounded and willing to get his hands dirty than other flashy, established villains who flaunt their wealth and status. A big part of it is just his really hyper-masculine indomitable tough guy persona, but even early on he's very much micromanaging his operation, fighting people hand to hand in (as opposed to, say, Doffy, who literally puppeteers people while lounging around) and makes a point to keep almost all of his followers at a distance and rely on them as little as possible. He rants a bit about how dreams and whatnot are pointless follies, as One Piece antagonists tend to do, and repeatedly taunts Vivi about how her idealism can't save her, but with the context that he wanted to find Laughtale himself, it feels a lot like projection.

The character trait that's harped on a LOT in canon, and probably the most pertinent one to whatever demons he has, is Croconaw's profound pathological distrust for everyone around him. It's a huge part of what makes him a good early foil to the Nefertari family and the Straw Hats, whose collective strength is derived from organic human connection; Crocalor, by contrast, makes sure that up until the very last moment, he keeps most of his people so distant from him that they genuinely have no idea he's even their boss. His relationship with Robin is interesting, but he turns on her immediately when he realizes she either can't or won't give him the location of Pluton and has his dramatic stabbing/"I forgive you" lines about how he never trusted her or anyone from the start. He says the same shit to Mihawk when he suggests they join forces, even citing their mutual distrust as a kind of paradoxical justification for why they'd actually work well together.

Arguably the only exception is Daz Bones, but even that relationship is still a pretty reserved one; one of the few traits Daz exhibits is a similar avoidance of human connections to his boss and even though they've ironically formed a bond despite it, I can't imagine that they're emotionally close. I find these more explicit declarations of paranoia a lot less indicative of what's actually going on in Croconut's head than subtext, but I feel inclined to mention them just because it more or less tells us that his background/trauma has something to do either with betrayal or alternatively just being jaded and deprived to the point of self-isolation.

Krookodile's character gets a little bit more interesting when we get to see him again in Impel Down being a smug little manipulative rascal right up until he gets blackmailed by his endocrinologist, which is definitely medical malpractice but also funny as hell. I also appreciate that literally the first thing he does after getting out of his cell is change into a big coat and cravat to keep up appearances, but it's not until Marineford proper that things get really complicated. Saving Luffy and Ace is the first selfless thing we see Crobat do–while yelling at Luffy that he needs to protect what matters to him properly, no less– and he just keeps fighting for them after that, teaming up with his most hated rival crew to cover Luffy's retreat and telling the entire WG to go fuck itself multiple times over. He fights everyone on sight with no regard for his own safety, talks mad shit to Doffy, and demonstrates a genuinely compelling amount of honest to god chivalry.

For a short time, we see Crocomotive less as a really entertaining cartoon villain and more as a person with hidden, profound emotions and a confusing moral code that's seemingly incompatible with the vicious little creature we met in Alabasta. We come to understand, in a few very brief lines that give us way more questions than answers, that Cromagnon has deep-seated, emotional convictions he actively suppresses, and that whatever baggage he has is probably tied to wanting to or failing to save something of his own. His resentment of Newgate, who he really really wants to have a go at (despite theoretically no longer caring about the ambitions of his youth) is indicative of a desire to revisit the fight that probably ruined his dream and ego, but it's also tinged with a deep-seated grudging respect for a living legend.

Crock–Afire Explosion's obvious seething hatred of Doffy also gives us a few more insights into what's wrong with him. On a surface level, it makes sense that he dislikes a profoundly obnoxious, even flashier fellow warlord who achieved more or less the same goal he set out to in a shorter time, fucks with his business, and then mocks him/tries to recruit him right after his very public defeat and imprisonment. He postures a lot, especially with his lines insisting he's on a higher level and that Doffy could only ever join him as a subordinate, but he's visibly steamed in their initial encounter and clearly hasn't liked him for quite some time. I bring this up because if we stretch our interpretation a little (for the sake of my argument), Croc Holliday's distaste for someone who's (outwardly) so much like himself and embodies all of his villainous characteristics from back in Alabasta might also suggest that deep down, he doesn't actually like the things they have in common; he sees right through Doffy because he's done the same shit and he hates what he sees.

Having gone over all that, I've come up with some key characteristics of Crocomelon that I'll use going forward:

–Extremely performative: puts an ungodly amount of energy into maintaining a carefully curated persona, and projecting a certain amount of power, masculinity, and prestige. Not necessarily an unnatural or inauthentic one, but a constructed and purposeful one nonetheless

–Deep-seated paranoia, hidden secrets; probably intertwined. Keeps personal details on tight, tight lockdown, probably afraid of being known.

–Constant projection of his own insecurities and failures onto other people, making a point to be uniquely cruel in Alabasta to an idealist who loves her people and a dreamer who wants to be the Pirate King.

Ironically, he demonstrably respects and defends two people–Luffy and Whitebeard–who theoretically embody everything he hates or scorns (ambition, goodness, love, connection, romanticism, greatness in the traditional sense) and he intensely dislikes the villain most like himself, or at least the one who shares a lot of his worst characteristics (ostentatious manipulative scheming rat bastard backed by people stronger than himself) –The Grinch's heart grew three sizes at Marineford because of like, the compelling power of brotherly love and reminders of his youth or something

SPECULATION, CONCLUSIONS??

The difficulty with writing anything definitive about Crocko's Basilisk is that he's such a mystery, which functionally lets the fanbase project literally whatever weird personality traits, potential backstories, or anything else they could possibly come up with onto him. So I want to be clear that I have absolutely no interest in theorizing about the specifics of his past or secret identity or potential baby daddy or anything along those lines; I'm only interested in what we can infer about his personality by extrapolating from canon. And the conclusion I keep coming back to, the one that I'm convinced is true on some level, is that Crocodile is living a lie and he fucking hates himself. Everything he does, from how he acts to what he claims to believe, is a desperate effort to cope with his own insecurity and failure and cover up a past version of himself he's deeply ashamed of.

Now, unfortunately, Oda did not conceive of Crocodile as a trans man but stories belong to the people and we can do what we want let's forget about that and play it straight because he's constantly performing gender as a means of compensating for a deep-seated shame and self-loathing from whatever traumas and secrets he keeps hidden. Even assuming he's a cis man, he deliberately chooses a hypermasculine persona with a Capital V Villain moniker and pimp outfit and speech pattern he's carefully curated to project masculine power–physical, political, and financial–and we know it's performance because we see him break kayfabe and get legitimately fucking angry whenever he's confronted by a person like Luffy, who's crazy and brave enough to try and do what he couldn't and risk everything for love and hope that he cannot bring himself to feel for another person, or reminders of the past he tries so desperately to bury.

The lessons he's wrongfully obtained from his past are as follows: Idealism is a weakness. Dreaming is a weakness. Connections to other people and being known are crippling liabilities (If he is, in fact, trans and closeted, that's all the more reason to be existentially disgusted by what he used to be). All the hope he brought to the Grand Line, all the excitement of trying to carry on where Roger left off, needs to be purged and buried because all he got to show for it was loss and humiliation. But he can't stop wanting more, and ironically, after he gives up on conquering the Grand Line, he ends up chasing the same fucking poneglyphs and weapons because his ambition's still there; it's just compromised and much more jaded.

Everything he does that's seemingly contradictory makes sense when you realize that Crocodile resents his failure and wants to avenge himself. He makes a big show of talking down to Luffy and Vivi's petty ideals and shit-talking Newgate and his family, but he still wants to fight Whitebeard like he did way back when and help Luffy protect what matters to him. He hates Doffy, who's honestly just a more successful schemer than he is because it's a constant reminder of what he settled for when he took that warlord post and fucking gave up. He claims to trust no one, but he keeps Daz by his side and rewards his loyalty because he can't help but trust someone who respects him so deeply and follows him to the ends of the fucking earth long after losing the material incentive to do so. He claims to look down on people who aim for the stars and fight for love and joy and freedom and yet, in his most vulnerable moments–not in the face of violence or imprisonment, but when he's emotionally compelled to defend a child and help save his brother–we see how badly he wants that for himself.

TLDR: Crockman Holic is deeply insecure in his masculinity, desperately needs psychological help, and his character/potential redemption arc in One Piece is just dealing with his midlife crisis.

[tyrantisterror]

I've been in a Digimon mood and, like, man, we gotta give it to the dub voice actors for giving a wide spectrum of villain voices and personalities to the original Digimon Adventure. Like, above here, we have the quartet that serves as the final(ish) villains of the series: a cyborg sea serpent that sounds like a surfer dude, a goofy little puppet boy, a theatrical yet menacing clown in the vein of Pennywise, and... Machinedramon.

Straight forward and batshit terrifying Machinedramon.

Like, there's a lot of weird shit in Digimon Adventure, and there was a delicate balance to strike to make it all feel tonally consistent, especially given how high the stakes get (and how dark the series was willing to go at times). You can't do it completely straight-faced when there's talking poop monsters and other goofy goobers running around, but you have to be serious enough for things like the death of Wizardmon to have the weight they deserve, and the dub team for the American cut of the show actually put in the work to pull that off.

I posted this video like a week ago or whatever but, like, Etemon really was the big test of the dub team here. Making a character design like Devimon into a big threatening villain is hard, but when the series decides its second big bad should be a rockstar monkey, that's... that's a much harder sell, man. And they definitely embraced the humor with the Elvis persona they gave American Etemon, but also managed to make him... genuinely threatening despite it? Like, Etemon's funny, but you also know he's a legitimate threat to the kids that they can't afford to underestimate.

Which is what allows the Dark Masters up top to work so well. Between them and Etemon we get Myotismon, who like Devimon is not hard to take seriously - an evil vampire overlord isn't a hard sell for a villain. And the Dark Masters aren't either, for that matter - even Piedmon and Puppetmon, the goofiest looking of the quartet, are pretty stock horror archetypes: an evil clown and an evil living puppet. But, as if missing the fun that Etemon brought to the table, the dub team decides to give them all a bit of a comic edge - Metalseadramon has the surfer dude voice, Puppetmon sounds like a goofy wee puppet man, and Piedmon's theatrics are played for comedy in a Joker-y way.

Not Machinedramon, though. Every comedy troupe needs a designated straight man, I suppose.

And, like Etemon, they succeed at being genuinely threatening despite the goofiness. When Metalseadramon and Puppetmon are hunting the kids, the goofy bits of their characterization seamlessly blend into the fact that they're still clearly deranged murderers deadset on killing children and anyone who gets in their way. Piedmon successfully acts as the big chessmaster of the quartet, and Machinedramon...

Machinedramon is just terrifying.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sorry to bother ya again, but my brain is literally on overdrive with this show and this clown who hws beckme my first kin and lives in my head rent free as she quietly sits there with a cup of hot chocolate and a warm blanket like she deserves, buuut

What if the gang found out the reader could abstract at will, including restricting it to certain parts of their body, ooor what if they found out you were a shapeshifter when you accidentally sneeze and turn into Wario or something

TADC cast x reader who can shapeshift!

i have returned from eating my silly dinner (sweet n sour chicken with rice!) it was very scrumptious i went ahead and did the shapeshifter idea since i feel that would be more fun to write (we can pretend they can still shift to mimic an abstracted body shhh) these ones are a little short i hope thats okay!

CAINE:

its not totally unheard of people getting unique abilities when they enter the digital world, its just not very common (this is a hc!), so when caine found out you could manipulate your appearance he wasn't all that surprised! i think he was more intrigued more than anything, because its not everyday you see something like that! he would be absolutely thrilled if you shifted into him; both from being amused of it and this man probably loves himself as much as someone can

will try to pop you if you mimic bubble, kind of feels bad for a second but your disguise was just so so convincing! say, were you by any chance an actor in your past life in the real world? you totally had him fooled!

POMNI:

pomni would be a little freaked out, especially if you just. suddenly sneezed and OH! now it looks like you're abstracting in front of everyone! first response is to run away before the transformation is complete, but when she notices no one else is freaking out (ragatha even blesses you!) shes more than a little confused

you offer to demonstrate your abilities to her, but she probably politely turns you down; she understands... for the most part... really its mostly just her trying to become used to the digital world as a whole

RAGATHA:

ragatha makes sure that you know that she thinks its cool; and as long as you're not morphing into a giant bug shes encouraging you to hone in on that cool power of yours! compliments whatever form you choose for the day

oh? you changed your hair color! she likes it, the new look is amazing on you! oh? you made yourself a little taller and gave yourself some new characteristics! points out nearly every detail shes noticed, no matter how small. ragatha pays attention, ragatha cares

JAX:

tries to drag you off to the dark side (ie being a menace to the others), whether or not you agree to be his partner in crime and 'use your power for evil' is fully up to you!

makes random requests to see just how far you can take your shapeshifting, usually listing off things at lightning speed to see if you can catch up.. if your shapeshifting takes a toll on you (like lets say it takes energy out of you) he might let up when he realizes how tired and pale you look all of a sudden.. at least for now

KINGER:

speedrunning to kinger for a moment before i forget this idea but imagine shapeshifting into him and hes just totally confused. leads to him making weird movements and you copying him (he thinks caine added a new mirror in the middle of the room for a solid minute before you break the illusion)

unless you have a set 'base form' hes going to keep thinking youre a new person if you drastically alter your appearance.. which, fair, since i think if you made yourself look unrecognizable, people would think youre a new person entirely. has probably introduced himself to you multiple times before realizing it was you

kinger gets a technical third bullet point but its not fluff. i just remembered the scene from steven universe where amethyst shapeshifts into rose in front of greg. but instead its kinger and instead of rose is queener/queenie. i hurt my own feelings. im gonna stew over this now

ZOOBLE:

honestly if you look just a mixmatched as them they would be into it and say you look cool. i had an idea that zooble has spare pieces and sometimes switches out their pieces for a new look, so imagine the two of you make matching looks or something, i think that would be cool

otherwise i dont think zooble would treat you any differently than if you were friends and couldnt shapeshift... though... i will admit, they think its funny when jax annoys you and change yourself in order to get him to back off. serves him right!

GANGLE

imagine she asks you to be a model for her art.. asking you to do different poses as well as different figures so she can better her craft. i absolutely love the idea of gangle being really into art, and this idea is just so cute to me

you have probably shapeshifted into her and pretended to be her when she needed someone to stand up for her... imagine how jarring it would be to see 'gangle' snap back at jax after he does something particularly mean

[rottenpumpkin13]

For April fools we need Sephiroth pulling pranks

Sephiroth's Prank

• April 1st is a chaotic date at Shinra HQ. Tseng has to call in multiple Turks to his office to discipline them for pranks like supergluing hair on Rude’s head, adding a dirty sock to the VP’s morning coffee, and nearly suffocating the entire board of directors to death with a stink bomb thrown in the confrence room—all three pranks were done by Reno.

• But April 1st is especially anarchic in nature on the 49th floor. 

• Director Lazard is quite literally trembling in fear as he steps off the elevator early in the morning. 

*Zack intercepts him, stepping out from behind the corner with a grin*

*Lazard screams*

Zack: Good morning, director? Care for a peanut?

*Zack extends a can of peanuts his way*

Lazard: …..Really? A can of colorful worms? I expected more from you.

*He opens the can*

Lazard: I’m pleased that you’re not taking advantage of the date to—-

*The can explodes in his hand, shooting smoke and blue powder all over Lazard’s face*

Lazard:

Zack: I am always two steps ahead. 

Lazard: 

*Zack begins to slink back into the shadows*

Zack: Two steps. Ahead. 

Lazard: 

• Meanwhile, Genesis walks into Angeal’s office where he and Sephiroth are. He sets their coffees down on the desk. 

Genesis: Here’s your coffee. 

*Angeal and Sephiroth pick them up and take sips, Angeal promptly spits his out*

Angeal: EW. DID YOU PUT SALT IN THIS?

Genesis: I’m a mastermind. Happy April fools! 

*Sephiroth continues to drink the coffee*

Angeal: Sephiroth how the fuck are you drinking that???

Sephiroth: Oh, I ordered a salted caramel macchiato. I thought they overdid it. 

*Genesis smugly takes out his copy of Loveless. He tries to flip it open but is unsuccessful. It’s superglued shut*

Genesis: What the—?

*Angeal starts laughing*

Genesis: Ha-ha. Real funny. 

*Genesis tries to put the book down on the desk but it sticks to his hand*

*Angeal laughs harder*

Sephiroth: I don’t see the appeal of April Fools'. It’s just a day where the implications of the date allow people to hurt others with childish pranks. 

Genesis: While I adore you as a friend, Sephiroth, I don’t expect you to understand April Fools'. It’s a fun holiday, for fun people to do fun things. Your boring, stick-in-the-mud personality doesn’t quite fit the requirements. 

*Sephiroth puts his coffee down*

Sephiroth: I’m offended. 

Angeal: What Genesis means is that you’re not really the pranking type, and that’s okay. Lots of people don’t have what it takes to pull pranks. 

Sephiroth: You’re insinuating that I’m incapable of pranking people?

Genesis: Darling, we’re saying it to your face.

*Angeal gets an Email from Lazard—“SUBJECT: HELP, EMAIL: GET ZACK OUT OF MY OFFICE HE HAS A FLAMETHROWER” *

Angeal: I gotta go. Gen, don’t you have materia class with the Thirds in ten minutes?

Genesis: I do. See you, Sephiroth. Don’t let the April fool hit you on your way out!

• They leave the office. Sephiroth sits there with his arms crossed, looking more sour than his coffee. And then he veers sly eyes unto Angeal’s laptop and the printer sitting on the desk. 

Sephiroth: Hmm. 

• A few hours later, Genesis finds himself on his merry way to Sephiroth’s office to grab Sephiroth’s tablet for him. On his way there he passes by Zack (dressed as an evil clown) hiding behind a corner as Lazard approaches (breathing with a paper bag).

• Genesis grabs Sephiroth’s tablet off his desk, but then his eyes fall onto a curious document laying there. He, being the nosy bitch he is, picks it up and behigs flipping through it. His eyes widen, eyebrows creeping higher and higher toward his hairline as he reads. And then he runs out, panicking. 

• He passes by Zack again, this time being disciplined by Lazard, who’s sobbing and beating Zack with his own squeaky mallet. 

*Genesis grabs Angeal and pulls him aside*

Genesis: YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND.

*He shoves the document in Angeal’s hands*

Angeal: What’s this?

Genesis, hyperventilating: It’s a classified report from Professor Hojo detailing the extent of Sephiroth’s condition. 

Angeal: His…condition?

Genesis: HE’S PART CAT. 

Angeal:

Genesis:

Angeal: 

Genesis: I’M SERIOUS.

Angeal: Seriously in need of medication. 

Genesis: READ IT. 

*Angeal sighs and begins to flip through the papers*

Angeal: 

Angeal:

Angeal: OH MY GOD. 

Genesis: I KNOW.

Angeal: HE’S HALF CAT? LIKE ACTUALLY HALF CAT. 

Genesis: It makes perfect sense! I don’t know how we didn’t see this sooner! His weird eyes, his fangs, the way he consumes 150 pieces of sushi in 10 minutes. HELL, THAT’S WHY HE LOVES THE BEACH. IT’S A GIANT LITTER BOX. 

Angeal: Gen, calm down. For his sake, we can’t freak out.

Genesis: Why didn’t he tell us!?

Angeal: Probably out of fear we’d have the same reaction you’re having right now. Oh, that poor thing. He must be so embarassed, so lonely with no one to tell him that he’s special as he is. *Angeal begins to tear up* Or to give him head pats. 

Genesis: What do we do now?? How are we supposed to act normally around him knowing he probably PURRS WHEN HE'S HAPPY??

Angeal: I DON’T KNOW! But We have to try! For his sake, we have to be as supportive and accommodating as possible.

Genesis: You’re right.

Angeal: And help him through this without letting him know that we know. 

Genesis: You’re right.

Angeal: And be there for him tonight on the full moon when he fully turns into a cat.

Genesis: You’re righ—WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

Angeal: DID YOU NOT READ THE FINE PRINT?

Genesis: NO!?

*Genesis snatches the report from him and reads through it again*

Genesis: OH GODDESS HE’S A WEREKITTY

Angeal: THIS IS SICK. HOW COULD HOJO DO THIS TO HIM??

Genesis: NO WONDER HE LIKES CATNIP TEA SO MUCH. THAT BASTARD’S BEEN GETTING HIGH OFF HIS KITTY MIND THIS WHOLE TIME.

*There’s a noise from the cabinet beside them, they turn and see Sephiroth crawling out from under it*

Sephiroth: Hello, gentlemen. 

*Angeal immediately starts sobbing* 

• Later in the day, Genesis is working in his office. Sephiroth sits on the opposite chair playing with a ball of yarn Genesis provided him with.

*Sephiroth sees the glass of water near Genesis. He slowly reaches for it*

Genesis:

*Sephiroth knocks it over*

Genesis:

*sephiroth throws the glass against the wall*

Genesis:

Sephiroth: That was enriching. 

• Even later, Angeal finds Sephiroth kneading a couch cushion in the break room. 

Angeal: 💡

*Angeal takes out a bowl of bread dough from the fridge*

Angeal: For you!

Sephiroth: Thank you, but I prefer the sensation of fabric to that of bread.

*Sephiroth starts chewing the blanket*

Angeal:

Sephiroth: Meow.

• Much later, Genesis enters the materia room and sees Sephiroth perched on a shelf, reading.

Genesis: H-How did you get up there?

*Sephiroth hisses*

Genesis: !?

• And then Angeal enters his office and finds his leather couch completely torn up. Sephiroth sits in a corner, playing with a piece of the foam.

Sephiroth: You’re not mad, are you?

Angeal, tearing up: Of course not! You poor, sweet thing! Would you like me to bring you Genesis’ leather coats for you to play with?

Sephiroth: That would be delightful. 

Angeal: I’m on it!

• Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal walk into the SOLDIER mess hall and see Kunsel and a group of Thirds playing with a laser pointer. 

Kunsel: Hey guys! Check out my new laser pointer! 

*Kunsel aims it at the wall. Sephiroth’s pupils dilate*

Angeal: NO

Genesis: GRAB HIM

*They tackle Sephiroth to the ground*

• Finally evening comes. Angeal and Genesis lay on the couch in the lounge, both of them exhausted after a long day of dealing with Sephiroth. And then an adorable, gray cat walks in.

Cat: Meow.

Angeal: OH MY GOD! SEPHIROTH!

Genesis: HAS IT HAPPENED ALREADY? HAVE YOU TURNED INTO A CAT!?

*They rush to pick up the cat and immediately start coddling it*

Angeal, sobbing: YOU POOR THING. IS THIS WHAT YOU DEAL WITH EVERY FULL MOON?

Genesis: HE’S SO CUTE! ANGEAL! WE HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HIM!

Angeal: DON’T WORRY BUDDY! WE’LL PROTECT YOU FROM NOW ON!

*Zack walks in, shirtless, covered in war paint, carrying a shovel*

Zack: The lizard man has banned animals from the 49th floor. 

Angeal: What? Why?

Zack: Because I filled his office with 30 angry chocobos, so now he has guards with tranquilizer guns stationed everywhere. Any animal they see, they shoot and take to the pound.

Genesis: WHAT? Oh no…not good!

Zack: Hey, cute cat! 

Angeal: IT’S SEPHIROTH. 

Zack: Is it? Cool!

Genesis: I know it will be hard to believe, but Sephiroth is half-human, half-cat, and every full moon he turns into a cat! This is him!

Zack: No, no. I believe you.

Angeal: Just like that!?

Zack: Yeah, I mean, I kinda already knew. I’m part of the Sephiroth-is-actually-a-cat conspiracy theory club.

Genesis: the WHAT?

*Zack walks over to a painting on the wall and removes it. Behind it is a white board filled with pictures of Sephiroth, cats and anecdotes*

Angeal: .......

Genesis: .......

Zack: We have an email list and everything. 

Angeal: .......

Genesis: .......

Zack: Back to Sephiroth being a cat. We have to get him out of here before Lazard or the guards see him!

Angeal: I know! Come on, if we’re quiet, we can sneak him up to my place. 

*They walk towards the door, but then Lazard appears with four guards with tranqulizer guns*

Lazard: A-HA! I KNEW IT! I KNEW I HEARD A CAT IN HERE!

Angeal: Director, wait, we can explain! This isn’t just any cat, it’s Sephiroth!

Genesis: He turns into a cat every full moon!

Angeal: He’s innocent! He just wants to knead blankets and nap and scratch up Genesis’s expensive leather coats!

Genesis: Yeah, he—WHAT? 

Angeal, sobbing: You can’t take him away! He may be a cat, but he’s still our best friend! He can’t be taken to the pound! He doesn’t deserve this! 

Genesis: If you want to take cat Sephiroth away, you’ll have to get through me! 

Angeal: And me!

Zack: And me too!

Lazard:

Lazard: What drugs did you three take?

(simultaneously)

Angeal: WE’RE NOT HIGH

Genesis: WE’RE TELLING THE TRUTH

Zack: The doctor said it would help.

*Everyone turns to look at him*

Zack:

Zack: SEPHIROTH IS A CAT. 

Angeal: WE’RE TELLING THE TRUTH!

Genesis: DON’T HURT HIM! 

Lazard: You know what? I’ve heard enough. *He turns to the guards* Take the cat.

*The guards aim at the cat in Angeal’s arms, everyone starts screaming, the guards shoot—And then Zack jumps in front of the cat, taking the tranquilizer dart for it*

Angeal: ZACK!

Genesis: ARE YOU OKAY?

*The cat jumps from Angeal’s arm and runs out the door*

Angeal: WAIT, SEPHIROTH!

Genesis: COME BACK!

• That’s when Sephiroth (the real one) appears in the doorway. He whisks the cat off the floor and starts petting it in his arms. Everyone’s jaw is on the floor—except for Zack, who’s whole body is on the floor. 

Angeal: Sephiroth….you’re not the cat?

Sephiroth: Never was, never have been.

Genesis: You mean you’re not half-cat?? YOU TRICKED US?

Sephiroth: Tell me, what does eating your own words taste like? I wouldn’t know the sensation. 

[gingernut1314]

The Hunter and the Hunted

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy the clown annoys you. More than annoys you. It's been that way ever since you were both little and as a bounty hunter, it made all the sense in the world to dislike him. When you are captured by the Marines for crimes you had been trying to outrun for years, you find him locked up right alongside you and just as annoying as ever. But when the chance for escape presents itself, it comes with strings attached. Strings that test the very natural order between the hunter and the hunted--an order Buggy seems to have no regard for.

Topics: angst, smut (p in v), canon typical violence, enemies to lovers

Word Count: 5.3K

Commissioned by: @katelynwithpaint (Thank you for commissioning me, it was so much fun to write! ❤️ ❤️)

↞ to Buggy the Clown Masterlist | One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

You were thrown into the dank brig of a marine vessel, the force of the action enough to send you falling to the ground, your bound hands barking in pain as you tried to keep yourself upright. 

The two marines who had been commanded to bring you down here spat filthy insults your way. Insults you should have brushed off and forgotten about, but you have never been good at taking such things. Had always let them get under your skin--get you angry and upset. 

Snapping your head around, teeth bared in a nasty snarl, you watched the door slam shut behind you.

“You fucking spoon-fed idiots!” You hissed up at the two marines who had been ready to leave before you had spoken. “You know nothing of--” The taller one slammed his fist against the bars of your prison, causing a loud bang to ring through the metal walls. 

You hardly flinched. Hardly bat an eye. You’d dealt with some of the most terrifying big bads the East Blue had to offer. Big bads who thrived off chaos and ate babies for breakfast. These two goody-two-shoes marines would never in their wildest dreams live up to those creatures. Never utterly terrify you. 

“We know everything about you. We know of your failed run as a bounty hunter. We know you killed a respected and loved member of our community--you are a criminal. Nothing but a no-good pirate.” He shot down at you in an air of superiority. Like you were nothing but the dirt under his shoes. 

A criminal. A no-good pirate. Those few words were worse than any insult one could possibly conjure and spit at you. Worse than physically getting slapped in the face. 

You were by no means a good person, but a criminal--you were far from being a criminal. Not in the same sense as those you’d hunted down. Those who had done true evil in this world. Who had hurt innocent people--children. 

Criminals like their respected and loved community members. A, now-dead, marine commodore. A commodore who had gone too far in life without getting punished for his crimes. 

Crimes you punished him for. 

A crackling laugh filled the air before you could spit any sort of slights their way. A laugh that started off low, like a chuckling at oneself, but gradually grew into a wicked, bellowing thing. 

It was a laugh you were all too familiar with. One you had first heard as a fresh, new bounty hunter following your former master on her journey to take down Silvers Rayleigh, fearsome first mate of the soon-to-be King of the Pirates. 

Your master had been killed not long into the fight, but you had been too busy fighting off a red-nosed boy around your age to notice. You two had beaten the absolute shit out of each other, and would have continued till only one of you left victorious, but Rayleigh had stepped in, stopping you two before that could happen. He had spared you, despite your hot-headed vows of revenge.

You had thought all too much about that red-nosed boy as you continued across the East Blue. Thought about how he had been just as passionate and confident in his mentor’s skills--in his own skills--as you were. How he had been just as reckless and rash as you.

It wasn’t for another five years before you saw him again, still sailing around with your master’s killer, though you had given up on that revenge long before then. 

You had at this point in time found three other like-minded bounty hunters whom you joined up with. Hunters who had been tracking down a pirate unrelated to the boy you had battled with, though who just so happened to be celebrating some sort of victory on the same island. 

You two almost went head to head once more, had it not been for his calm and collected red-headed friend. A friend who had scared the shit out of you, despite his cool nature, so your fight ended swiftly and you left. 

More years passed and the more you ran into the clown. Each time you two found some way to fight--whether it be physical or verbal. A few times that red-headed friend was with him to help break it up, and other times you both were thrown out of whatever bar you had been in. 

You ran into him once more in some backwater bar, sitting alone and nursing a large pint of beer. He smirked your way when he spotted you and, to your surprise, bought you a drink. A drink you took reluctantly, waiting for the moment you would have to defend yourself against him. But instead, he merely talked to you. Told you how his captain had dissolved his crew, leaving him adrift. 

And there was hurt in his eyes. A sense of abandonment that had you carefully telling him of what had been happening in your own shit-filled life. Of a marine whose name you had just recently crossed off your list. How you had finally gotten him after years--gotten revenge for the lives he had taken from you in your youth. 

He’d laughed in something kin to understanding, insisting on buying you another drink to which you declined and went on your way. 

The last time you came across that laugh, you had just been left for dead by your so-called comrades--friends. Left to be found by the very marines you had crossed when you stumbled into a seemingly deserted town. A town you quickly found was overrun with freakish pirates. Freakish pirates who had managed to kidnap you in your weakened state and drag you into an equally freakish circus tent. 

The boy had grown up, just as you had. Had grown up to be captain of this band of freaks. One who had chained the poor people of that town up and used them for his own, sick entertainment. 

But when you saw him, that laugh sounding in your ears, you were reminded of just how much you thought of it. How many of your dreams had been haunted by it’s ring. Of how you, for whatever reason, held a sick sense of respect for him. And his eyes--they were all too bright looking upon you. All too seeing. 

After dramatically introducing you to his crew and captives, he had you dragged off into a back room where you were once more surprised when his freaks cleaned your wounds and gave you some water to drink. 

It was all very strange. It went against the very natural order of the world. The order between the hunter and the hunted. 

It had freaked you out all so much, you escaped before you had to face that haunting laugh and its owner. 

But here it was again, spilling from the red-painted lips of Buggy the clown, captain of the Buggy pirates, locked away in this all too wet marine brig pulling haunting ghosts from your past into the forefront of your mind. 

You kept your eyes trained on the two marines before you, watching them like a hawk. Watching for a slip-up. Something--anything that would help you in this situation. Something that would keep your eyes off the crazed clown and his grating laugh.

“If she’s a pirate, then that would make me one you shithead.” His gruff voice joked. The two marines shared a look between them. One that almost looked to have uneasy undertones to it. 

“You have no right interfering in marine business.” The second shot towards the cell just next to yours, only resulting in more insane laughter filling the air. The first marine just shook his head in growing annoyance. 

“Come on. He’s all locked up. That big-nosed freak can’t do a thing.” The laughter cut off sharply. 

“What did you just as say?” Buggy asked, his tone becoming all that much more serious. That more threatening--dangerous. The Marines bore shit-eating grins, obviously finding his growing pissed-off nature amusing. 

“You know, I never liked clowns. Freaky little fuckers.” The first said as they began heading for the exit once more. 

“This freaky little fucker is going to cut your nose off and force you to eat it when I get out of here.” This only seemed to tickle the marines further and they left without so much as another word. 

The brig was dead as a tomb for a moment you used to look about the confines of your cell, trying to find any weaknesses or things to make a makeshift weapon with so that you could escape sooner rather than later. Buggy gave an exasperated huffing sigh as your eyes locked onto something in the corner, just by the horrible-looking toilet. 

“Yeesh. Some people just don’t know how to have fun.” You all but ignored him, messing with the bit of scrap metal that had been idioticly left unfixed. “Whatcha got there, peach?” He said, using the nickname he had given you after you threw a peach you had mistaken for a rock at him when you had seen him that second time. He had used it ever since then and it’s continued to annoy you.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, finally yanking the bit of metal from its last hold on the base of the toilet. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. 

“That’s no fun.” 

“Since when have you ever thought of me and fun at the same time?” You huffed, working on trying to unlock the cuffs that had been slapped around your wrists. It took you a minute to even get the bit of metal into the small keyhole, and with your hands locked together as they were, you hardly saw yourself free any time soon. 

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you’re plenty fun. I think you do a fantastically fun job playing pirate bounty hunter.” You again ignored him. Tried not to even hear his all-too-chipper voice as you continued to work. “Playing pirate bounty hunter when you can’t even sail a ship. I think it shows your commitment to the part.” 

You finally snapped around to shoot a daggered glare Buggy’s way, whose usual red-painted lips were pulled up in a wide smile. He knelt before the bars separating the two cells, gloved hands clasped together before him. His clown-styled makeup was smudged in a way that told you he must have been here for a few days. You also noted the absence of his hat, which bore his insignia in the center, leaving him in his red and white striped bandana. 

You couldn’t help the small part of you that wished he was wearing it--the small part that thought it suited him all too well. A small part of you that you shoved down deep. 

Seeing him again after god knows how long was always--staggering. It brought back up such ugly feelings of hatred and utter sadness you’d felt after your master's death. Brought back up how surprised you’d been when he offered you a drink. Brought back up that equally as ugly feeling of respect and misplaced understanding. 

Buggy was an actor--a performer. Of course he would play the part he needed to get you to let your guard down--to not beat him into a pulp. 

It was all so aggravating. 

“It’s not some part.” Buggy rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion that only made your frustration coil tighter in your chest. “And I can sail a ship.” Buggy let out a sharp mocking laugh. 

“I seem to remember my freaks telling me of the struggle you had trying to leave that small island I found you on.” 

“I had lost a lot of blood.” You said as if you needed to give him any sort of explanation. As if you needed to keep talking to him. Turning away from this intense green-blue gaze, you went back to work on the cuffs. 

“You know, I was rather upset you left without saying goodbye,” Buggy said in fake hurt. “You didn’t even get to see my grand finale.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” You said in equally mocking tones. 

“I accept your--”

“Fuck off, Buggy. I should have beat your ass while I had the chance. I should have killed you and freed those poor people you terrorized.” Buggy pulled a smirk to his lips. 

“Beat my ass? I seem to remember it was me who kicked your ass last time.” A scoffing huff spilled from your lips. 

“We were ten years old--” 

“Ten in a half.” Buggy quickly corrected like it truly mattered. You shot him a look that said as much. 

“It doesn’t matter. I had no skill back then. No discipline. I would kill you now without ever batting an eye.” That smirk never once left Buggy’s lips, his eyes shining in utter amusement. Eyes that had your gut doing annoying and tiresome little twists. 

“And collect what bounty? Our cheery new friends seem to think you’re nothing but a “no-good pirate” now.” Despite that shot of anger that flared in your chest, you pulled on your own smirking smile. 

“It wouldn’t be for any bounty. It would be for my own amusement.” 

“Peach, if you're trying to flirt with me, it's working.” He all but purred your way. You rolled your eyes and truly went back to unlocking your cuffs. 

No more distractions. No more annoying banter with that clown pirate who grated on your nerves like no other. You couldn’t get caught. Not yet. Not before you got revenge for yourself. Revenge against those who had turned the world against you. “Peach--”

“You truly are horrible.” You snapped, unable to ignore the obvious rise Buggy was trying and successfully getting out of you.

“When I escape and free you,” Buggy started, only for you to cut him off with a scoff.

“You’re delusional.” Buggy rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“When I escape and free you, you’ll have to repay me.” 

“You aren’t freeing me. I can do that just fine on my own.” You snapped.

“Oh, I think I will.” You shot him a glare hoping he would shut up. He, of course, did no such thing. “And after I get us off this ship, I’m thinking you’ll be so overrun with emotion you’ll do something sweet for me.” You shook your head, shoving the bit of metal this way and that within the keyhole. 

“I don’t find your games amusing. I actually find them quite boring.” 

“Now you’re just being mean.” The sudden sound of rusting metal squeaking open pulled your attention away from your work and back onto Buggy. Your jaw all but fell open upon seeing Buggy sauntering out of his cell, his hand popping back onto his wrist, a ring of keys laying there. 

You had watched those Marines. Hadn’t missed a single twitch or breath, so how had you missed Buggy grabbing those keys from around the holder's waist? How had you missed a flying, dismembered hand?

“How--” You watched him unlock your cell door in utter disbelief. Watched as he took the few steps across the way so he was standing in front of you. Watched with a fluttering, tingling belly as he knelt before you, that all too charming smile on his lips. You covered your strange feelings with that of familiar annoyance for him. 

“Peach, I’m gonna let you out, but,” He said, sing-songingly elongating the last word. “I want you on my crew.” That was the last thing you thought you would hear from his lips. It was enough of a shock to squash any and all irritation you held in your chest for the clown.

You two had no like for the other. Every time you saw each other, it was either a fight or a backward attempt to mock and tease the other. You were the hunter and he was the hunted. Why would he ever want you to be near him in such a way? 

You laughed in his face. Laughed wholeheartedly in your unbelieving at his words. Laughed so hard it shook your shoulders. 

“You’re full of it. I despise pirates. I kill your kind for a living.” You snapped at him once you’re laughter subsided. 

“Past living.” You’re disbelief quickly turns back into that of anger. “And you’re perfect.” His words caught you off guard once more. Had you all but freezing up, unable to conquer up your anger.

Perfect. No one had ever uttered such a thing to you. 

It was…strange. You and him--it was all too strange. 

“I collect outcasts, those thrown away by society. Those hurt and betrayed and left to die, bleeding out on some hopeless island.” You felt your eyes suddenly prick in the remainder of your inner wounds. Wounds created by those you had thought were your friends--family. Those who you had loved more than you had ever loved anything in this world. 

Buggy saw all of this with those intent green-blue eyes. He saw this and he understood, despite your many differences. Because he had experienced it too. Had been hurt and left to rot by those he had cared about. 

“My freaks--my crew--don’t turn their backs as easily. I don’t turn my back that easily.” 

An actor--a performer. That’s all he was--all he ever would be…but damn if he wasn’t speaking to your soul. Wasn’t utterly pulling you into those green-blue eyes and that charming smile of his. 

“I--” You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. You should tell him to fuck off. That you would rather stay here and let the Marines drag you off to some prison to be forgotten in. But…but you didn’t say that. Your traitorous heart didn’t let you. “I am no pirate.” You all but whispered. It was a confession rather than a biting hiss.

Buggy smiled, his gloved hand coming up to grab hold of your chin in a grip that was just tight enough to keep you from looking away from him. It was all too much. It felt all too--too right, having the roles switched. Being the frightened sparrow and he the smiling chester cat, ready to snap your neck between his sharp, smiling jaws. 

“Oh, I know.” He whispered back as if it was a secret. “But I think you’ll like it. I think your cage door needs to be unlocked so you can fly free.” Before you could even open your mouth to try and pull together a rambling stream of words, the marine ship shook violently, the sound of cannon fire echoing down into the brig. That wickedly charming smile pulled onto Buggy’s lips. “Right on time.” He pulled his hand from your chin, the absence of his warmth leaving you annoyingly wishing for it back--wishing for more. 

What a strange, strange predicament you were in. What strange, strange emotions. It was all too confusing. Too much.

Buggy dangled the keys in front of your face as the ship was attacked once more. “How about you think on it while I take care of this, peach.” He said, dropping the keys into your lap before standing to his full, towering height. “Though, don’t strain that pretty little head of yours too much.” And with that Buggy left the cold, dank brig. 

You wasted no more time than you had, quickly unlocking the cuffs, which had been rubbing painfully against your skin, and heading in the direction Buggy had disappeared in. 

The next few moments went by in a flash. You getting to the deck and finding Buggy’s freaks had boarded and were mowing down marine after marine, leaving no survivors in their wake. Buggy laughing insanely as he fulfilled the threat he had shot their captor's way. You finding where they had stored your weapons, as well as Buggy’s hat. You killing anyone who got in your way as you found yourself heading for the edge of the ship--found your body had a mind of its own as you jumped, landing on the deck of the circus-themed ship Buggy commanded. 

This was your best and only escape route, you told yourself as you rushed around the ship, trying to find a place you could keep away from the rest of the world so you wouldn’t be found out. That place ended up being the large tent near the back of the ship, washed in shadow and thankfully empty. 

You passed the time by looking around the large area, finding it was very similar to that of the tent Buggy had set up on land all those years ago. 

Finding a pair of stairs, you winded up them, finding a singular chair sitting in the center of the raised platform. A throne, you realized. Buggy’s throne. You traced your fingers over the designs engraved in the wooden seat before sitting down, finding it would be the best place to wait out the fighting and think about your strange predicament. 

“That's my seat.” Buggy’s gruffing voice sounded in your ear a little less than an hour later. It didn’t startle you, his sudden appearance. You had marked his footfalls when he thought he had been sneaking into the tent to do just that. 

“Take it. It’s uncomfortable.” You murmured, pulling yourself from the throne which was, despite your words, rather comfortable. Buggy was much closer than you had originally thought, so close you had to tilt your head up just the slightest bit to look into those green-blue eyes of his. Eyes that never once moved away from your face as he flopped down on his throne, legs spread in some show of dominance. 

“So, tell me peach, what is your answer?” You moved your eyes away from Buggy’s intense stare, looking over his hat which you had taken with you off that marine ship. 

“Why free me?” You questioned, glancing back towards the pirate, whose eyes never seemed to have lifted from your form. 

“Because I’ve been looking for someone to fill the role of knife thrower in my performance. You are good with a blade.” It was a lie. You could tell it was a lie. And it ate at you despite your utter dislike for this pirate. You took a step closer, those green-blue eyes watching your movements. 

“That I am…but tell me something; what makes a pirate buy a drink for a bounty hunter?” You took another, calculated step that the clown marked. He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Why not? Getting you drunk seemed like a fun idea at the time.” He cracked a mischievous smile. “Still does.” You gave a small nod, pausing just before him. “You’re dancing around my question, peach. Maybe that's what I should make you.” 

You leaned forward the slightest bit, his knees brushing against your legs, being as close to him as you were. 

“You let me out of my chains. You dressed my wounds when you could have let me bleed out, and for those things, I owe you my life.” Buggy gave a small nod of his own.

“I feel a but coming.” 

“But I can’t be free yet. Not when those who betrayed me are still breathing.” That smile of his stayed in place, but a seriousness you had never seen before filtered into his eyes. A seriousness that spoke of understanding. Of respect. 

Strange--this was all so strange, things between you and him. Between hunter and the hunted. 

“And then?” He questioned. You moved ever closer, you’re legs fitting between his in a strange sort of puzzle. Buggy watched and allowed you to gently tug his hat back onto his head, his breath tickling your lips.

You thought of the way his hand on your chin felt. How it had all but drove you crazy. How you had wished, no matter how absurd, to have it back there--to have more. 

“Tell me why you saved me.” You spoke softly so that Buggy and Buggy alone could hear. “Why do you want me on your crew? Why, when you should have killed me--when you’ve wanted to kill me ever since we were young?” Buggy’s eyes fluttered down to your lips as they moved. A small action that had that buzzing in your body stirring alive once more. 

“I think you know.” He spoke just as softly in that gruffing voice of his. A voice that had been bouncing around in your brain for longer than you liked to admit. 

“I don’t think I do.” Buggy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit like he was annoyed at your comment. An annoyance you wanted to drag out of him. You knew he didn’t want to admit it. Knew that he probably had never had to explain himself before. “Because I am still under the impression that I am the hunter ready to collect that sizable bounty on your head.” 

“You think my bounty is sizable?” He smirked, continuing to dance around the topic. 

“Enough to get me a ship that floats and an expensive bottle of wine.” You said in an attempt to get under his skin. You saw that flash of irritation in his eyes that made your own smirk pull to your lips. 

“A ship you couldn’t even sail?” He teased, moving closer so that his lips were mere inches away from your own.

Your mind raced to wonder what they might feel like fitted against yours. How it might feel to have his hands running over your skin--to feel his skin. 

It was all too strange, the things he was able to pull from you. Such strange feelings. 

“You annoy me.” You jabbed his way, your eyes fluttered every so often to those red-painted lips of his. 

If you kissed him, would your lips come away just as red?

“You’re eyes annoy me, your laugh, your voice.” Buggy looked as if he was trying to figure out if your words were supposed to be meant as an insult or some backwards complaint. You wondered this as well. 

“And it annoys me that you understand. Say you understand.” You found yourself saying in a biting manner. The pirate looked over your face, seeming unsure of what to do next. Unsure of what to say even when you had just spelled it out for him. 

His hand reached out and took hold of your chin in his solid grip. A grip that sent your stomach fluttering uncontrollably. “I understand.” Was all he said before he was pulling your lips flush against his own. 

You hardly had control of yourself as you kissed him back in a frenzy, all sense of self-control and reason flying out the window. A kiss fueled by your strange, strange feelings for this clown. Feelings a mix of dislike, annoyance, understanding, and respect. Feelings you’d been harboring deep within yourself for a long, long time. 

His kiss burned through you, had your hands grabbing at his jacket and all but ripping it from his body, feeling over his strong, exposed arms. His skin was warm and felt so nice against your own. Skin you wished to feel covering your whole body. 

Buggy hands moved along your body, pulling you closer. His touch sent your skin on fire. A fire that hat engulfed your entire being, demanding to be satisfied. 

Your hands moved downward, over his equally strong chest and abdomen until they found the edge of his pants, your fingers fumbling to undo his buttons. Buggy mimicked your actions, finding and unfastening the buttons there. 

You pulled away from Buggy long enough to hasten along the process of shoving your pants over and off your legs. A process you had hardly finished before Buggy was grabbing you up once more, claiming your lips in a hot, needy kiss. A kiss that felt more like a fight for dominance. A fight the two of you never could seem to truly finish. 

Buggy’s hands took fist fulls of your ass, guiding you up and onto the throne with him, your knees straddling either side of him. Reaching down between the two of you, your hand disappeared into Buggy’s pants, taking hold of is hardened cock and giving it a few good, teasing pumps. He gave a throaty groan that had that heat shoot through your core, making your pussy throb in just as much need as the rest of your body. 

As quickly as you could, you pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants, hardly waiting before you were descending downward, a sweet little moan spilling from your lips. 

Fuck it was good. It felt so good being connected this way. In a way that was slowly filling that yawning need within you. A need you had been holding at bay for a long time. 

“F-fuck, peach.” Buggy moaned into your mouth, his hands moving to hold onto your hips in a near steel-like grip. A grip that guided you further down so that you were fully seated on top of him. “So fucking good.” 

You moaned your own pleasure as you began to move up and down, slowly at first so that you might feel every last inch he had to offer. A pace that gradually quickened, finding that need within you all but commanding you to do so. Grabbing hold of one of Buggy’s hands, you guided his gloved fingers to find that small bundle of nerves that all but begged for his attention. Silently told him just how you liked it to be touched and, surprisingly, he was a quick learner. 

It was good. Almost too good. Never would you have imagined this happening--you fucking this vastly annoying clown. The very clown you’d fought for years. But then again, this was just another sort of fight. A fight for dominance and submission. A fight you much rather preferred over that of brute force and stabbing words. 

Buggy’s lips left yours only to latch onto the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting in a way that drove you crazy. That sent you quickly spiraling closer and closer over the edge. 

“Oh god--Buggy, I’m--I’m…” His fingers kept circling your clit, bringing you all that much closer to your finish. 

“Come for me, peach. F-fuck--you’re such a sweet little thing.” You moved your face so that you could press your lips against his once more, moan after moan vibrating through your throat. 

So much--too much. It was all so good you’re legs began to turn to jelly. Began to give out under your own weight. Buggy seemed to understand this and pulled away from your clit only so he could grab you up in his strong arms. Arms that held you up as he fuck into you mercilessly.

You spiraled up and up and up until your pussy was clutching around his cock and pure bliss was shooting through you. Buggy’s name flew from your lips as you held onto him for dear life. The pirate gave a few last, grunting thrusts before he was spilling into you. 

Buggy buried his face in your chest, his chest heaving up and down just as your own, both of you fighting to take in the thick air around you. 

The tent was filled with nothing but the sound of your mixing breaths for a long moment. A moment you took the time to run your hands over any and all exposed skin Buggy had to offer. Warm skin that brought you such strange, strange comfort. 

“And then?” Buggy asked, taking you by surprise. It was the same question he had asked you only moments ago. A question of what you would do after you had avenged yourself. You pressed your cheek against the side of his head, your lips brushing over his right ear. 

“Then I will return,” You breathed, feeling Buggy’s body go just that much more still against yours. “And I will be free.”

[lokittystuckinatree]

Happy Pride losers, I’m ready to be clowned but my dumb ass is now convinced Rogue is the Master…

Rogue and Renegade have eerily similar meanings under the right circumstance.

To rebel against an organized group. To go rogue.

An endearingly naughty person

Koschei, our second fave Renegade Time Lord

Apparently they were also called a Rogue Time Lord? I am not making this up.

Although Maestro is Master in Italian and look how that turned out

“Lord” interesting.

Red and Blue. The master and 13 were red and blue coded respectively. Have they switched, Symbolically?

Rogue was looking at the Doctor rather nefariously, even once they were buddies. Just go through some of the scenes again. It’s harder than you’d think to tell if he’s trying to seem seductive or evil

The entire premise of this ep seems to be “things are not as they seem; people are not as they appear” which is a Master staple

The Master has been haunting the fuck out of the narrative lately.

Here’s my thread on just how much

When I saw the first trailer, I instinctively thought “ballroom dance guy” was gonna be the new Master

The inside of Rogue’s (familiarly messy) ship has controls eerily similar to the configuration of a TARDIS.

Rogue is obviously a time traveler if he has that space ship and knows DnD (Rogue + Time + Lord. Oh?)

DnD might be a dead giveaway

Was Rogue’s name being inspired by DnD necessary to include? Cute thing the writers wanted to put in, or clue?

Why would Rogue know what DnD was but not know what cosplay or improv was?

The Master has been taken prisoner by the Toymaker, infamous for his love of? Games. You know who also has a running theme of “winning” and “losing”? The Master

In DnD you play as a character and rely on skill and chance to survive within the confines of a structured storytelling game. Bending the rules is often involved. The Master tried that against the Toymaker and failed.

DnD players will often have little tiny figurines of their characters. Remind you of anything?

the Master is a dnd rogue archetype. Trickster, lone wolf, shapeshifter.

If the Doctor is symbolically trapped in a TV show, is the Master trapped in a game? If the Toymaker is the DM, is he going rogue against the Toymaker?

The Master is infamous for their disguises and “cosplays” and has catfished the Doctor before.

Rogue is almost suspiciously too much the Doctor’s type. He’s like the love child of River Song and Jack Harkness. He is exactly the type of character the Master would create to lure and seduce the Doctor.

He and the Doctor just…get each other. It’s like they’ve known each other for much longer than a few hours. They’re too cushy (haha)

Rogue threatened to kill the Doctor, and then imprisoned him in a nice little cage. Familiar?

He tried to make the Doctor kill Ruby, who we all know is just Clara 2.0. Familiar?

He knows too much and too little

He knew the party was attended by alien birb people but only knew about one alien birb? And did he reaaaally think Doc was an alien bird?

The Dancing. They knew they wanted there to be a dance party before they even settled on a time period setting for the episode. Enough said.

The ring was…interesting

That’s a lot of commitment, even if only a promise ring. Something tells me he intended it as an engagement ring though

Someone tried to write a book in the 80s where 5 and Ainley were ex spouses, but it was shot down

Just an unrelated detail, but a ring on the pinky is a gay thing

Mirroring. Thoschei do that. A lot.

“You!” “No, you!” “no, you!”

The way they danced

The scene where they kept turning on and off the music

Speaking of music…Bad Guy by Billie Eilish? Too on the nose? Can’t get you out of my head? Poker face?

You remember that lady’s hand that picked up the Master in his widdle toof? Hand of the Rani?

This episode was written by two women. The Master would literally be in women’s hands

I remember watching Sacha Dhawan’s Spy Master for the first time and going…darn, he reminds me so much of Avengers era Loki. Kate Herron directed season 1 of the Loki Series and had a lot of creative control. Would it really be surprising if RTD (confirmed Loki fan) went to her for the Master after Sacha?

Didn’t Russell say he’s leaving the Master for “other writers?”

“The Master is parked” did he happen to park a Tardis disguised as an everyday spaceship???

In an interview, Kate said she and Briony designed Rogue to be the Doctor’s “equal”

References

“When I see him, I’ll know” and he is drawn to Rogue like a magnet.

“Travel with me” who must you be to want the Doctor to be your companion instead of vice verse

“We can argue across the stars”

“I’m in your head” + “can’t get you out of my head” + the Master being referenced multiple times in almost every episode since PoTD

“I’m trigger happy” feels really fucking intentional

He said “find me.” If he is the Master, the person he lost was the Doctor, (notice he said “them” and not “her” or “him?”) and the Master and Doctor always find each other.

Scream of the Shalka? And didn’t the Master fall through the floor like 40 times in Curse of Fatal Death? Richard E Grant was the Doctor in both of those.

For more, @bugeater77 and friends have this lovely thread

Guys CHECK MY REBLOG, RTD posted something wild.

[bimobuddy]

Fizzarolli x Asmodeus TK Headcanons

I love these two so much!! If you haven't seen S2 - E6, I highly suggest you go do that right now.

These might contain spoilers, but nothing too big, I don't think

Fizzarolli

Lee:

He's a giggler!

While he usually wakes up first, on the rare days he doesn't, Ozzie will tickle him awake. Partly because he thinks the sleepy giggles are adorable, but also partly out of revenge for the air horns (it's not gonna stop Fizz from using them though)

With anyone else, he'll fight back, but with Ozzie, he enjoys it and finds it fun. He'll even go as far as to try and provoke him sometimes.

Worst spots are his sides and tail, he'll probably start flailing. If you're unfamiliar with how he reacts, it's easy for you to accidentally get swatted, but Oz knows him and knows just how to avoid the swinging limbs or wagging tail

The tip or 'blade' of his tail REALLY gets him kicking

Tummy gets him curling up and giggling, tail thumping against the floor happily

He even gets flustered and giggly when Oz starts kissing on his cheeks and forehead. Not the most ticklish place, but just enough to get him giggly and smiley

Ler:

Back when they were kids, Fizz used to go after Blitz all the time. He'd usually win most of their tickle fights

Now, his main target is Ozzie, even if he isn't able to get him most of the time, as Oz usually just turns the tables on him

With his extendable limbs, it's pretty easy for him to wrap up his victim and still get at their sides or tummy

This is usually how he gets Ozzie, the rare moments his attacks actually work

Has chased Ozzie around their room a couple times during a chaotic ler mood (Poor rooster is just such a big guy though, it's hard for him to get away)

Has only ever gotten Blitz once since they've made up, but Blitz is an assassin now and was very quick to escape and turn it back around on him

Asmodeus

Lee:

Usually isn't much of a lee, as Fizz is really the only one able to get close enough or catch him off guard

And even then, it only works if he's in the mood or if Fizz sneaks up on him

DEEP CHUCKLES DEEP LAUGH

Fizz absolutely adores his voice, especially when he laughs

He knows he could easily overpower the little imp, but why in Hell would he risk hurting his Fizzy or ruining his fun? He'd much rather sacrifice his sensitivity to Fizz to see him happy

If you get him good, he'll accidentally crow. This has only ever happened one time when Fizz snuck up on him and grabbed his hips. However it didnt last long because he IMMEDIATELY wrecked the imp afterward

Sometimes Fizz starts kissing (or even scritching under the chins of) the other two heads in Oz's fluff. It's not exactly super ticklish, but it has gotten a chuckle or two from the Prince, as it felt weird, and he'll usually gently pull Fizz away with a soft "stooop"

Worst spot is his hips

Ler:

oh boy

This man can be absolutely ruthless

It's easy for him to scoop Fizz up in one hand and tickle him with the other

If he's feeling evil, he'll go after Fizz's tail and hips

But he's also such a sweetheart though, the SECOND he hears Fizz so much as even start the word 'stop,' he stops. He'd feel so bad if he overwhelmed his little clown

When they're alone, he'll start peppering Fizz's face with little kisses, while his other two heads do the same to his neck (in a sfw way) and it gets him super flustered and giggly

Big fan of teases. He'll go for the cliché 'tickle tickle tickle,' and stuff, but he'll also make kissy noises, make that clawing hand motion right over Fizz's tummy, or make him ask for it. ("I don't understand what you want, Fizzy, you're going to have to ask")

He's got feathers, he's basically a demonic chicken man. Sometimes he molts (sheds) his feathers too. (see where I'm going with this?)

When he loses his feathers, all he's gotta say is, "You know, Fizzy, it's molting season," and the imp is either immediately running away or hopping up into his lap for the gentle tickles.

Just like Fizz, he gets chaotic Ler moods too. He can and WILL chase or hunt down his partner, which is sometimes a challenge. Yes, he might be bigger, but Fizz is also very good at outmaneuvering him

But jokes on Fizz, this just makes the attack worse when Ozzie finally catches him

On mornings when they don't have to work, when Fizz goes to get up and out of bed, Ozzie will just hold him close to his chest, not letting him up, and give morning tickles

[writingoddess1125]

The twin girls getting into readers makeup and giving Buggy a girly makeover before a cross guild meeting? The girls also wanting to give uncle Mihawk and uncle Crocodile a girly makeover as well, who are they to say no?

Make Up Time

• "He's late-" Crocodile grumbled, Sitting back in his chair as he took a puff from his cigar in irritation.

• The men had been waiting for nearly half an hour for their other Member Buggy to actually make an appearance. Typically the man showed up on time- However it seemed today he wanted to slack off..

• Mihawk was leaned back with his hat covering his gaze as he just decided to rest.

• Crocodile got ready to stand, figuring just leaving was better then staying in a empty room. That was till the door finally slammed open-

• "About time-"

• There walked in Buggy- The typically flashy dressed man with a large hat seemed to be missing that day- instead a exhausted blue haired man- his hair in a messy bun and simple trousers strained with something and a baggy button up that also had some either food or paint stains- As well as carrying a big bag.

• "Fuck- What happened to you?" Mihawk questioned- genuine sympathy in his gaze as he looked at the clearly exhausted father who looked like is he got into a fight with a eviler clown that likes pinks, purples and glitter.

• Crocodile raising a brow as well, that was till he saw the two little girls trailing behind Buggy giggling and beginning to run around with thwir toys. They hadn't seem then since they were sick and Buggy clearly needed the assistance-

• "Is the Misses sick again?" Crocodile mused, earning a glare from the exhausted father who took a seat at his chair. "No- My wife doesn't need to be sick for me to watch our kids.. She's just taking a day to herself"

• He sighed as laid back, clearly tired already.

• "And you're tired already?" Crocodile said with a roll of his eyes.

• "They are just High energy" He said calmly as he set the bag down. When he did the girls decended onto it like a pack of hounds, pulling out more toys and what was more noticable makeup-

• Mihawk looked down and saw one of the little girls- Ari if he remembered correctly tugging on his pants leg and doing grabby hands to be picked up which he complied to.

• "Have them sit then for the meeting-" The man grumbled.

• "Thats now how kids work. They either play or scream their lungs out for the next few hours-" Buggy explained- Ali saying 'Up Up' to Crocodile as she tapped his leg and tried to climb up with a makeup pallet in her hands.

• "Why not discipline them to sit still-?" Crocodile asked genuinely a bit surprised as he picked up Ali finally and set her in his arm. Their understanding of younger children clearly lacking.

• "They're three asshole- They dont need to be disciplined for wanting to play-" Buggy said quite irritated by Crocodile's line of thinking-

• Crocodile looked to Mihawk to back him up but saw the man with his eyes clothes as Ari was already applying something to his eyelids- "Just suck it up and let her do the makeup-"

• For Fucks Sakes-

• "So our monthly take home has increased by- Okay no makeup in the mouth" Crocodile said calmly- Ali sitting on his arm as she dabbed a healthy amount of purple lip gloss on the brush and pressed it to his lips- sure some getting on his teeth.

• Ali giggling up at him cutely as the man sighed, Taking the brush and applying it himself to show how it's done.

• "Pretty!" She squealed, clapping her hands as Crocodile grumbled something and nodded. Letting her have the tools back to absolutely destroy his face in more makeup.

• "Let's continue-"

• For the next hour the men crawled through their meeting, while trying to handle the two toddlers in their care once more. Buggy reaching into the large bag he brought to get them snacks and drinks- both of which were forcibly shared by the toddlers as well.

• Nothing like floor cereal for a bunch of dangerous pirates-

• Once the meeting was over- all three men were exhausted beyond belief, like they all had their asses beaten thoroughly and humbled just ever so slightly.

• When they walked out the meeting hall no one expected the rather weird sight. Mihawk holding Ari who was asleep tucked into his side, his had removed and his face decorated with red lipstick, far to pink blush and a smear of blue, red and orange around his eyes and brow- paired with what seemed to be a purple bow in the front of his messed up hair.

• Crocodile holding Ali who was talking to him in her broken array of words. The man supporting her on his shoulder, his own hair apart in two pink tails with non matching hair ties, purple lip gloss on his lips and eyelids, blush on his cheeks and nose- something blue on his chin and gold glitter on his cheeks.

• No one dared to look at the group- both from fear and fear of laughing at the leaders.

• "I will say this- I am impressed" Crocodile said- Buggy staring at the man in surprise but didn't press further. Just smiling with bubbling pride-

• "Honestly. It wasn't as bad as I though, They are cute" Mihawk said calmly. Adjusting Ari on his shoulder who mumbled something in her sleep-

• "It's typically pretty nice ac-" He stopped as he heard shouting from the other side of the lobby doors. The three men stopping in their tracks as they just stared at the closed doors.

• A loud crash could be heard paired with a pair of cackling as matching small feet could be heard scampering around as sound of Galbido yelling could be heard and Cabaji trying to tame whatever destruction was taking place-

• "Please tell me there are no more-" Mihawk deadpanned, staring at his peer who sighed heavily already knowing that those were his boys-

• "Do you want the honest answer or the one you want to hear?"

[gaybananabread]

hiiiii!

could I please request day 21, ‘costume’? I’d like lee Pomni and ler!jax if we can do that! Thanks ever so much <3

TickleTober Day 21 - Costume

~Okay, I wrote Jax VERY different to how I did the first time. One, he's a huge asshole, but I still choose to naively believe he isn't all bad. Call it optimistic character study. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Pomni

Ler: Jax

Summary: Caine's adventure for the day leaves each character in an interesting costume, with some having more features than others. Jax gets paired with Pomni and quickly runs out of patience. Instead of his typical violence, he chooses a less painful route of getting his “payback.”

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“This is stupid,” Jax grumped, tugging at the collar of his lion onesie. Caine had decided to have everyone wear a costume for Halloween that day, but had neglected to ask anyone of what or who they’d wanted to be. He just randomly assigned one with a snap of his fingers.

“I didn’t even think we could change our clothes…” Pomni said–mainly to herself–as she flicked the little bell on the collar of her cat onesie. It was quite soft, and she liked the warmth it provided. Well, simulated warmth, but still. She thought she could remember having something similar once, but…the memory was just out of reach.

“You can’t! I have control over your digital bodies, so only I can alter them! Isn’t that exciting?” Caine got right in her face as he explained, making Pomni yelp and jump back. The bell jingled softly with the movement, glinting in the light of the tent.

“No. Not even a little.” Zooble’s monotone response came from nearby. They were less than pleased; Caine had apparently decided they’d make a good zebra, adding more funky patterns to their body.

“We’ll see if you still feel that way after today’s adventure!” Caine’s chipper words made the group groan, save for Ragatha and Kinger. She was in a Panda onesie, while Kinger had been dressed as a goldfish. With his eyes, it was actually rather fitting.

“Today’s adventure is Trick-or-Treat Team-Up! You’ll each be split in pairs of two to explore the tent and knock on doors with the pumpkin symbols! Whichever team gets the most candy wins!”

That actually didn’t sound too bad. Nobody could sense anything dangerous or annoying about it, even if they’d rather be relaxing.

“The teams are: Pomni and Jax, Ragatha and Kinger, and Zooble and Gangle! If anyone chooses not to participate, Bubble has volunteered to go in their place!” Caine gestured proudly to the dead-eyed bubble beside him, her sharp teeth greeting the players in a smile.

Zooble narrowed their eyes, knowing they couldn’t leave Gangle to such a fate. With a sigh, they grabbed the ribbon girl’s hand and went off to find the first door. The other groups followed their lead, though Ragatha lingered a moment, grabbing Jax’s lion tail to get his attention.

“Jax, I need you to promise me that you won’t be a complete jerk to Pomni. The last adventure really shook her up, and I don’t want a simple adventure to become something evil.”

Normally, he would’ve brushed her right off, but that look in her eyes…it kinda scared him. Ragatha was dead serious, actually showing an emotion besides worry or happiness.

“Fine, fine, whatever. I won’t break the clown.” Jax rolled his eyes, but Ragatha could tell he at least sort-of meant it. She left after that, the sounds of her re-explaining the rules to Kinger slowly fading out as they left.

“C’mon. The other teams already have a head start, and I’m not losing an easy challenge.” Jax started walking before Pomni could answer, forcing her to jog to keep up with his long strides.

“R-right. I’ll shout if I see a pumpkin door.” Pomni trailed a step or two behind him, struggling to keep up with his pace. She was much shorter, making it hard to match him.

It only took about two minutes for Jax to almost break his promise.

“Ugh- can you stop that?!” The rabbit man whirled around, glaring down at Pomni as he jabbed a finger at her chest. The small bell on her cat onesie had been jingling with every step, slowly driving him insane.

“I don’t think I can. It’s attached, and only Caine can alter our outfits.” Pomni shrunk back a bit from the yell, but she’d been growing used to his douche-ery. It didn’t bother her as much anymore.

“D-*ploink* it.” Jax groaned, running a hand down his face. Of course he’d gotten stuck with the one person whose costume made annoying noises; that was just his luck. “Walk lighter then. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Pomni sighed, walking only on her tip-toes. She quickly fell much farther behind doing that, stuck about a yard away from him at all times. Surprisingly enough, she was the one who spotted their first door.

“Ooo, over there!” Pomni pointed to one of the doors, a bright orange pumpkin symbol sitting atop the red.

Jax slunk over to it, a small hum of recognition leaving him. Instead of knocking like any sane person would, he took a few steps back, then charged at it. His foot slammed into the red surface, blowing it open. Instead of candy, he received a bucket of green slime to the face.

“Gyack! Oh you motherf-” Before he could finish that sentence, another blast of slime shot out, this one carrying a note. It smacked him in the face, making Pomni giggle.

“Shut up, clown girl!” Flinging some of the goo at her, he unrolled the note and read it out loud. “‘Too hard. Trick-or-Treat, not Beat-for-Treat.’ This is so dumb!”

“I mean, you did kick the door down. It probably got mad and took the candy.” Pomni stated the obvious, absentmindedly tapping the bell on her onesie.

“It’s a door! They don’t have feelings!” Jax snapped, narrowing his yellow-and-black eyes at her. “And what did I say about that stupid bell?!”

Pomni narrowed her eyes in return, challenging him. She’d had about enough of his mean attitude. “It’s Caine! For all we know, he made it an AI NPC! Maybe you should think about that stuff before you just do things!”

“Oh, that is IT!” He was done playing nice. Jax tackled her, loathing the cartoony thump their bodies made as they hit the ground. He was going to start a fight, but Ragatha’s sort-of-threat lingered in his mind. When that woman got mad, she got livid. He’d rather not face her wrath, but he needed some kind of retaliation…

Oh, right. Duh.

Jax dug all eight of his purple fingers into her sides with an indignant huff. “This’ll teach ya to show me some respect!”

Pomni squeaked loudly, sounding almost exactly like a dog toy as she descended into pitchy laughter. Jax couldn’t help but chuckle at the sound of it. There’s another item for the “Weird Things Our Bodies Do” list.

“Jeez, you sound like a dog toy! You’re lucky nobody’s modeled after one; you’ve got two reasons for a pooch to maul ya right now.” Jax smirked, giving one of the ears on her onesie a little tug.

“G-GEHEHET OHOHOFF! JAHAHA- squeak OHO GOHOHOD!” Pomni quickly started to lose it, kicking and squirming beneath him as he went for her worst spot. It was hardly fair; he’d guessed it so soon! “WEHEHE’RE GOHONNA LOHOHOHOSE!”

“I don’t really care about that anymore. He didn’t even say there was a prize.” Jax just shrugged, his eyes becoming half-moons as his smug grin grew wider. He was clearly enjoying himself. “This is much more gratifying work.”

“B-BUHUHUT YOUHUHU *squeak* YOU SAHAHAID YOUHU WEREN'T LOHOHOSING AHAHN EHEASY *squeak* CHAHAHALENGE!”

That was impressive, Jax had to give her that. Laughing so hard, yet she still managed a complete, coherent sentence.

“Changed my mind. Don't you know people are progressive?” Jax asked innocently, his tone barely containing the teasing sarcasm in his words.

“THAHAT’S NOHOHOT- *squeak* SHUHUHUT UHUP!” Pomni wriggled beneath his hands, trying to shove them away. Jax seemed to be stronger, though, locking his arms and preventing her escape.

There we go.

“And that's not proper grammar. It's a shame, really; the literary arts are dying. You're a part of the problem, Pomni.” Jax was just saying anything he thought had a chance of annoying her at that point. It was kinda jerky, but it was a lot better than what he'd wanted to do.

“F-*boi-oing*K YOUHUHU!” He was so smug about everything! It was killing her, though a small sort of her was enjoying it. Touch wasn't exactly common in the circus; while the current touch was maddening, it still made her feel a bit better. More alive.

“Nah, I've got plans this afternoon. Thanks for offering, though.” Jax snickered at his own immature comeback, giving both her sides a hearty squeeze.

The rabbit man was more than happy to continue for at least an hour, but the sound of distant screams and spooky sound effects made him think. They probably still had a chance of winning, even after the lengthy distraction. Jax was always one for impulsive decisions.

The tickling ended just as abruptly as it had started, Jax standing and offering Pomni a hand up. She took a minute just to lie there, draping an arm over her face as she giggled.

“Youhu…are a bad person.” Pomni huffed as she begrudgingly took his hand, a small grunt leaving her when he tugged her up from the ground.

“No duh.” Jax chuckled at her flustered state before looking around the hall. “You need water or anything? You're useless to me if you pass out.”

Pomni was a bit shocked by that. He was…asking if she needed something? Genuinely, it seemed? Sure, he was an asshole about it, but it was still shocking.

“Uhm…no, thank you?”

“Good. I didn't wanna make the trip anyway.” He glanced down the hallway of doors before shaking his head. “Don't think he put any more candy doors over here. We're checking behind the stage.”

Then he just walked off, leaving her with all those confusing thoughts and not a single answer. Great.

Pomni hurried after him once again, the bell on her onesie costume jingling once again. That time, however, the jingling noise only made Jax smirk.

Cute…

[woofs-silly-ships]

Oh boy, it’s that time again

(Haven’t done it much here but when a big piece of media comes out, you usually get a hyperfixated ramble post right after I finish it and a deep dive a day later. This is the deep dive lol)

Warnings: discussion of abuse and neglect, solitary confinement, and ptsd/childhood trauma. And ofc spoilers for WOTFI 2024 and just smg4 in general

Oh yeah and since I’m tagging this as selfship, the selfship stuff is at the bottom of yall want to just skip to that lol

I think I need to preface this by saying I still loved literally all of the WOTFI besides the ending. The song was freaking awesome (I’ll get into that later), the challenges were perfect, the clown designs for the main cast were amazing, etc. I’m just trying to get the negativity out first lol

But yeah ok, gotta get the elephant in the room out of the way first: what the trio chose to do with Puzzles was absolutely awful.

I was mostly shocked that Meggy seemed just totally ok with it considering SHE JUST SAW FIRSTHAND HOW ABUSED PUZZLES WAS??? She literally met his child self and saw how weary he was, how he flinched away from her touch like those are clear signs of abuse and it seems like Meggy should’ve known that

So why the frick didn’t she object? Mario is always doing stupid crap so that makes sense, but you would think Meggy or even SMG4 would do something???

But why is it abuse, you ask? Well, Puzzles has one major issue, and that’s that he has no friends. And then Meggy became friends with his child self, therefore logically setting him on the path to redemption. But obviously Puzzles has done some awful crap and should’ve been punished in some way, maybe something like having to stay exclusively in the showgrounds for a while until he shows improvement, with the gang there to support him (just came up with that off the top of my head lol). But you know what they decided was the best possible punishment for this man? Solitary freaking confinement. The punishment notorious for literally causing prisoners to go insane due to lack of interaction. And you just had to give that specific punishment to a man WHO LOST HIS FREAKING MIND AS A CHILD DUE TO LACK OF INTERACTION?? DO YALL SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS???

I’m not even mad that they did that, obviously it’s wrong but these are fictional characters making that decision, and characters can be misguided. You can have characters that literally violate everything on a basic dni list or something, characters can be evil. My issue is when it is glorified or romanticized. And that’s pretty much exactly what they’re doing here

Another line that came out of Meggy’s mouth that really hurt me was when she said that maybe he’d get better in there, stop being so obsessed with ratings…. is she stupid? The whole reason why this all started is because Puzzles was an abused child with no friends who basically hyperfixated on wanting to fulfill his dream of running a park (and later tv production as well) but was shut down by his father and isolated himself with a tv all day. Meggy had just managed to heal his inner child and see the good in him. And then they act like finally giving him what he needs to heal and then VIOLENTLY RIPPING IT AWAY FROM HIM AND LOCKING HIM IN A ROOM (MIGHT I ADD, LIKE HE DID AS A CHILD DUE TO TRUAMA, THERE IS NO WAY THIS ISNT BRINGING UP SOME GENUINE PTSD FROM HIM) IS GOING TO JUST MAGICALLY FIX HIM??? NO! AND THERE IS ZERO INDICATION IN THE MOVIE, NOT EVEN A HINT, THAT THE TRIO MIGHT BE IN THE WRONG.

I’m sorry, but this is abuse and also extreme neglect of what Puzzles needed to change.

And also, Puzzles being a villain doesn’t make any of this ok. Didn’t we already learn that with SMG3?? Villains that have clear issues like this can be reformed over time, it just takes work. But no, apparently they’re not gonna do that

Genuinely speaking: if they wanted betrayal via Mario, they should’ve had him just straight up kill Puzzles or something right then and there. Or keep the original story but have the others seem horrified of what Mario did.

Also that scene really should’ve been given more time to breathe, I know this is the haha funny Mario spaghetti show but that doesn’t excuse going from villain being likely reformed to villain being arrested and the park exploding in a matter of 5 god dang seconds. Sure that would’ve been funny if this was some random side character or minor reoccurring villain, but this was literally the man behind 3-4 arcs and the star of 2 more, and a clear fan favorite character. Even if he wasn’t gonna die, they should’ve treated it like Axol or One Shot Wren, where both the audience and characters are given time to mourn and see what was happening, see character reactions, all of that. Even a stupid line from a couple of the police officers would’ve worked perfectly. Just time to process what the frick just happened.

My only other issue besides, well, all that lmao, is that the actual movie was just nothing like the trailer, like there were scenes exclusively in the trailer and that felt really weird to me

Ok, negativity out of the way now :D

The song!!! I was kinda hoping for a rap but yeah this fit way better lol, haven’t seen anybody talk about it but the puzzles design with just the head and hands is freaking epic omgggg

Also I loved how the parts sung by the trio are kinda more akin to children’s movie songs (describing exactly what’s happening on screen, the sad “I know there’s good in you” part, etc) and then Puzzle’s parts are just hahaha I’m gonna freaking turn your corpses into gushing mounds of blood-

Also GGRRRR I WANT TO DRAW THE CLOWN DESIGNS SO BADDDD!!! THEYRE SO DANG COOL!!!

And also UGHHH THE MERCHHH I WANT IT SO BAD BUT IM B R O K E 😭

The challenges were also really fitting, didn’t see any users I recognized but those that got in were perfect

And no SMG34 fuel sadly :(, eh can’t always get the gay old men lol, maybe next time

And yeah this is my selfship blog so gotta let a few of the demons out:

THE FREAKING FACE HE MADE BEFORE ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE!! IGNORING WHAT HAPPEN AFTER HE WAS SO GOD DANG CUTE AND I JUST WANTED TO HUG HIM AND CUDDLE HIM GRGGRGRGR HES SO DANG SILLY-

Anddd that’s about it! This post will probably get like, 2 notes but who tf cares!! I just needed to ramble a lot lol