#why else would he name himself the jester

[skidaddleskidoddle]

Men talking shit about things they know nothing of deserve to be treated as the side clown of the circus.

I don't even know where to start with this one

[phoenixblaze1412]

Can I kindly ask for a Dottore X reader who has a bad habit of stealing his fatui coat and wearing it or using it as a blanket?

"I could have sworn I placed it on the couch..."

Dottore muttered under his breathe as he looked around his office in search of his fatui coat. He was supposed to be attending a harbinger's meeting and he was about to be late. He sighed in exasperation as he went to ask his segments if they have seen his coat somewhere.

"That ugly thing? No, I do not know where it is. But I did noticed darling dearest came inside the room a few moments ago before leaving quickly."

Is what the Theta segment answered, his focus was mostly on the report that was assigned to him and not bothering to glance at his creator. Dottore could only hum in return before leaving the laboratory, searching for your room.

He should have thought of it by now, he knew you would always try and steal his coat just to wear it. Dottore always wondered why you prefer wearing it when it's bigger than your figure but your reply was because it was warm and smells like him.

The warm part he understands but his scent on the coat? Ridiculously not.

Dottore finally reached your room with a huff before knocking on the door and calling out your name.

"Darling, it's me. I know you have my coat and I need to wear it for the meeting."

When Dottore didn't hear any reply from you, he let out a sigh before opening the door himself and entering the room. He noticed your figure on the bed as he walked up towards you. Dottore was about to scold you for taking his coat again but the sight before him made him stop.

There on the bed you lay, with his coat covering your small figure, your hands gripping onto the fabric. He did noticed the temperature of your room being more colder as of late, possibly due to the winter weather becoming more harsher the past few days. And with him always busy in his work, you didn't bother ask him to cuddle with to keep you warm and instead decided to use his fatui coat instead.

Dottore sat on the edge of your bed, tucking a few strands of your hair behind your ear that was blocking your face. He watched as you slept peacefully while being under the warmth of his coat. He would want to join you but he is required to attend the meeting or else Pierro will be scolding his ears off.

Lifting his mask up, Dottore leaned down and pressed his lips against your temple before getting up from your bed and leaving the room, deciding to let you keep his coat until he comes back from the meeting.

Quickening his steps, he made his way inside the meeting room where all his fellow harbingers are.

"You are late, Dottore. Where even is your harbinger coat?"

"Sadly, that coat got into such an unfortunate circumstance and I am never late Jester.. you and the rest of the people in this room are simply too early."

Dottore crossed his arms over his chest, not caring how he is the only one out of the rest of the harbingers who isn't wearing their traditional harbinger coat. Some gave him a curious glance while others only rolled their eyes at his remark. Pierro on the other hand, simply sighed before continuing the meeting.

"I am quite curious.. is the reason why you don't have your coat on was because of a certain someone? It has gotten quite chilly these past few days. Should I make a customised coat for your partner?"

Pantalone glanced at Dottore with an amused smile, noticing how the doctor himself isn't even shivering under the cold temperature of the palace.

"No need, Regrator. Besides, I doubt they would even accept your generosity over a new coat."

Dottore replied, already knowing the reasons why you wouldn't even dare to accept Pantalone's offer. He would rather let you wear his coat instead, besides he's already used to cold temperatures. And if he does get cold, he could just pull you towards him and hug into your warmth.

[d6volution]

you, a little mime, just trying to keep quiet and stay out the way in this new and strange world, but the ringmaster doesn't seem to be too fond of your silence.

tags: afab reader x caine, dubious consent, fingering, creepy caine.

Caine hummed, straighting his tie in the mirror as he prepared himself to look his utmost best before introducing today's new adventure!

"Now, you see Bubble, as ringmaster I have to look absolutely prepared for any situation. That includes—" He turned to face bubble, squeezing his tie as it squirted water from it directly into the bubbles face. "Perfectly prepared to put a potential fire!~" He laughed at his own wacky joke, slapping knee in the process. "I don't see how that would really—"

"Quiet bubble!" Caine hushed his friend simply by scooping him into his hat. "Don't you hear that?"

Absolute silence.

"Exactly, I'm 2 minutes late for the introduction today!" He appeared in front of the digital circus crew in the blink of an eye.

What he didn't notice was the lonely mime hiding away in the corner.

So without a moments delay the ringmaster began yapping away until pomni awkward raised her hand.

"Uh.. Caine?"

"Yes, my colorful friend how can I help you!?" He pointed his Caine at the jester.

"Uh.. well— weee... sorta have a new member." Pomni pointed at the corner where you were hiding out.

"OH! Oh, dear! How rude of me! Why don't you come out, my dear, we don't bite!" Just then bubble suddenly popped from his hat without warning to quietly add, "Heh.. I do.." Caine rolled his eyes, "Come now, don't be shy!"

"Maybe you're just being too loud Caine, they seem a bit.. overwhelmed." Ragatha added with a reassuring chuckle, attempting to ease the uneasiness you were feeling.

"ME? LOUD? NEVER!"

With all eyes on you, it seemed like you had no choice but to stand up, gloomy as ever, and finally walked towards the crowd.. your colors seemed washed out compared to everyone else's, which in turn made you stand out a lot.

"Well then, what's your name? Or perhaps you need a new one!" Caine's voice seemed to drown out , you weren't listening to a word he was saying nor did were you planning on replying.

"Ah.. a quiet one then? No matter! I'm sure you'll open up in no time!" With his usual gleeful act he spun into the air.

"Now then! Where was I!?"

Caine did his usual spiel about the adventure, keeping his eye on you most of the time. You could feel his eyes on you, and it only causes you to curl in on yourself even more, attempting to make yourself less noticeable.

"Alright then! Off with you lot!~"

Just then, Jax popped up next to you comically , draping an arm around your shoulder as if you were old pals. "Get all that new kid?" You blinked a few times. "Yeah, yeah.." He seemed to fill in the spots where you'd normally be expected to reply. "Caine's a riot .....but, hey.. I'm sure you'll do juuusst fine.. heh." He was getting a kick from your expressions. They succeeded in doing all the talking for you.

You looked up, expecting the charismatic leader to still be floating in the air but he vanished.. you felt relief flood your body, the way he was eying you early made you feel.. uneasy.

The day was.. eventful to say the least.

You're relieved that no one really forced you to speak, opting for nodding yes and no instead.

See, you can speak.. you can you just haven't felt inclined to ever since you arrived here. It was strange, staying silent.. selectively mute almost. Right? Perhaps it had something to do with your new body. You looked like a sad little mime, after all.

"Hey , mime person— thing watch out!" Pomni rushed past you, and you failed to notice until now that all of the props in the circus came to life and chased everyone around. It was utter chaos, and you did beneath a table until someone finally found the solution to getting them back to normal.

Thanks, Ragatha.

All in all, it was an exceptionally draining day.

You followed behind the crowd at a distance, and gangle tried to close the gap a bit to make you feel more welcome in her own .. introverted way. Silently, you appreciated it..

....?

To your left, there was a stray floating eyeball watching closely as you walked by. Not the crowd ahead of you.. just you.

A shiver went up your spine.. surely it was just ! ... one of the props from earlier you all forgot to tame , yeah.. had to be.

You all had the infamous digital dinner, and headed back to your quarters.

So this is what life would be like now?

No— no, you can't give into that idea so easily it has to be a dream— "Oof! Eyes up here dear! Wouldn't want to get hurt now do we?"

Two large gloved hands rested on your shoulders and steadied you. Blinking away the dizziness you looked up, .. Caine!

Immediately you stumbled back and out of his grip before falling onto your ass, you winced quietly but not quietly enough that Caine didn't notice.

"Ahh, so you can make noise! Here I thought your vocal cords were— well who knows! Glad to see their working my dear! Now, I think it's best we get to know each other a little better."

He yanked you back up unceremoniously and you sucked in a breath at the suddenness of it all. But.. still you didn't respond.

"Oh, don't be modest my dear you can speak to your hearts content little one!" It was starting to sound more like a command if anything but you shook your head and attempted to walk past him to get to the safety to your room instead.

You don't know why you expected this to work, he appeared right in front of you causing you to plant into his chest face first.

"Ah, of course ! You must be excited to show off your new room hmm?" He opened up the door and moved aside causing you to stumble in, losing your footing you planted face first on the carpet. Caine's eyes lingered on your rear end for a moment too long before you finally gathered your bearings.

He cleared his throat. "Hm."

How awkward. Your eyes tried to look everywhere but him, the wall the floor the little knick knacks that adorned your dresser.

Without warning the ring master gripped your waist with both hands, sending a shiver up your spine and another pathetic sound left your lips.

"My, my I think I MAY have cracked the code~!" He grinned and allowed his hands to pull you in closer, hands snaking up your waist just along the swell of your clothed breast. You made another sound.

The prick was toying with you just to get some noise out of you.

"Humans are sensitive here arent they? What silly little creatures you are!" Another beat and his gloved hands cupped your breasts squeezing them without holding back.

"S.. Stop..." You finally spoke up, bit it was hardly a whisper.

"Hmm? I couldn't quite hear you dear!" His pupils were blown wide, and for a moment you felt relief as his hands trailed away from your breast and down to the hem of your shirt instead.

You thought it was over, until a cool breeze hit your now bare breast. The bastard yanked your top upwards and immediately started tweaking and pinching your nipples, causing them to harden. You whimpered and shook your head, scrambling in his grip which only seemed to tighten.

You could feel hot his breath hitting your neck.

" ...please.."

"What a darling voice you have dear, what a shame you want to keep it from everyone! ... why don't you let me hear a bit more, hmm?" He asked, voice laced with desperation now. He'd lost the original reasoning of why he was doing this, right now he just wanted to hear more of your pretty voice.

Yes, the voice that made his slacks tighten and his breathing to become heavy.

He needed more, and you'd have no choice but to give the ring master what he wanted.

"How about here?" He inquired , removing one hand from your chest and cupped your sex instead. Fingers rubbing along your clothed folds.

"Nh...!" Your eyebrows furrowed, it was so hard not to give in. Not to make noise, you didn't know how long you'd be able to last.

Your knees were getting weak , buckling in on themselves. He held your body close to his as you both slid to the floor unceremoniously. Caine used this to his advantage and hunched overtop of you, your face pressed to the floor and ass in the air now.

Your head felt dizzy and your legs trembled.

His gloved hand ran along your ass before it giving it a slap, and you yelped. Causing him to shudder in delight. "Oh dear me! My hand seems to have a mind of its own." He looked at his hand accusingly, before it rested on your behind just for a moment.

He lingered in silence , debating his next move. His thoughts so were jumbled right now, but he couldn't help himself. After this.. he'd stop, yes just this last thing.

He yanked your bottoms down and you immediately scrambled and tried to sit up , but he pushed a gloved hand on your back to keep you still. "Now, now none of that. You've been very stubborn up until now my dear. It's only fair you receive a little more punishment, yes?" He sounded amused, desperate and absolutely delighted all at once.

"N.. No.. no.." You whined, but your body was hot and secretly wanting more. Release.. something.

"SEE! Look how far you've come, speaking more words now then you have all day!" He chuckled before plunging a finger into your wet sex. You gasped, back arching and your gummy walls tightening around his finger. "Hmn.. there we are

..." He hummed and thrusted his finger in and out, your soft pants were enough to keep him satiated at the moment.

After a few moments, he slipped in another finger, and you reached back, grabbing his wrist, trying to push him away, shaking your head.

But he wouldn't let up, his fingers were slamming into your sex , the room filling with the wet sounds your sloppy cunt was producing.

This was wrong.. right? But it felt so good, too good. Your body was on fire. You couldn't think about anything besides the fingers pummeling in and out of you, secretly wishing it was something bigger.

"Please— g-gonna.. hhaa.." Your body locked up, tightening around his fingers and spasming like crazy. He seemed amused at how fast the coil inside of you seemed to snap. Still his fingers moved , his other hand gently caressing your back as you yelped and pleaded because of the overstimulation.

He watched you tremble and whine for a few seconds more before finally removing his fingers, licking them clean with his oversized tongue.

Your breathing was returning to normal, but your body still felt tingly buzzing with the aftershock of pleasure.

"See? I knew you could do it! perhaps more exercises like this would be helpful, don't you think?" It was a rhetorical question, not like you'd answer anyways. Caine pulled your pants back up, leaving you in your sticky clothes, but at least not naked for all the world to see.

"OH DEAR! Would you look at the time!? You'd better get some rest dear , wouldn't want to be late to tomorrow's adventure, would you?" He winked, and just like that, he was gone.

[pygmi-cygni]

Spilled Milk

summary: you realize your husband might be a little spoiled.

I don't think you guys realize how tempted I was to use the king john gif from the animated robin hood because lmao.

cw: john being an annoying brat, free use? but not smut, mentions of sex, imma put this at a spicy rating because nothing that sexy happens, just a bit of touching and kissing.

"John, would you- stop it, I'm in the middle of something," you scolded, dropping a quill as you felt a familiar pair of hands shove under your dressing gown. The warm, sleepy mound of a man ignored you and continued his mission, slumping over you once he was fully groping your soft form. You rolled your eyes and patted his hair affectionately.

"Want," he mumbled, nipping a little too hard under your ear. You sighed.

"Maybe a please, dear?"

"No."

He tugged at the laces of your dress, grumbling when they got stuck. You swatted his hands away, ignoring his scowl.

It was barely morning and you'd just gotten dressed. The chambers were roasting - John couldn't sleep if it felt less than mid-July and you hated the heat. Deciding to do your writing in the library, you basked in the cool air of downstairs.

Clearly, this had not satisfied all parties.

John had dragged a quilt around himself with nothing else, the nerve and waltzed downstairs, groaning loud enough to wake the staff.

"If you vowed to love me till death, why are you betraying me?" He groused, resolving to press as close to your back as possible. The dramatics were in full force this morning, apparently.

"I'm not betraying you, John, it's seven in the morning. Get dressed, dearest."

Again at breakfast, he got up from his end of the table and walked over, planting a big wet kiss on your mouth. You were halfway through chewing. Yelping, you pushed his face away and coughed delicately into your napkin.

"Wh-"

Reclaiming his prize, John not-very-subtly reached his hand to your thigh, stroking as he kissed your jaw. The waitstaff looked politely away. Once his craving had been sated and your reputation sufficiently tarnished, John returned to his seat and finished his meal.

"John Lackland," you sputtered, utensils limp in your hands. He looked up from his bowl and paused, taking in your furiously disheveled appearance. A moment of tense silence.

"Do not ever-"

"I do like it when you say my name, darling." With that piece de resistance, he pushed away from the table and strode off, airily announcing he had a hunting date with a lord in Loxley.

One of the senior maids eyeballed you as she cleaned up. You sat, jaw clenched in tense focus, before smiling politely and walking briskly to your chambers.

John would be gone the rest of the day, thankfully leaving you to enjoy your day without interruption.

Good. You had things to do.

He'd found you hours later, reading in the garden. You heard his loud, strong strides crunching along the path and continued to read, counting the seconds until your cloak was pulled of your shoulders.

"Hello, flower," he purred, diving his sweaty head of curls into your neck. Christ alive, he was filthy.

"Have you bathed?" you asked chidingly, tugging a leaf out of his curls. He mumbled noncommittally and kissed you regardless. It was a sweet, pleasant kiss that warmed the tips of your fingers. A chilly breeze blew through the vale, rustling the rosebushes.

"I'm cold," he complained, "why are you reading outside?"

"I like the fresh air."

"But I can't kiss you outside." His dark blue eyes were pinched and frustrated with your resilience.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm cold," he enunciated. You scoffed and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Go bathe, John, I'll be inside soon."

He stood, dumfounded by your lack of affection. Of course you wanted to hold him and kiss him, but it was the afternoon, and you had things to do, and he could wait a damn second. And, his expression was funnier than any jester you'd invited for a gala.

You raised your eyebrow and pinched his cheek. "Run along, the water won't be getting any warmer."

While he strode off grumpily to clean up, you hurried to the bedroom. You had some things to prepare.

You sat on the bed, back to the door, a knowing smile on your face. John always took his baths in the evening, because he liked to take a 'nightcap' right after. Obviously, this would ruin the cleanliness, forcing him to take a bath in the morning, prompting another session, which...well, you get the idea.

A great yawn came from the adjoining washroom, and John waltzed up to the bed, bare naked and grinning like a coyote. His warm, damp cheek nestled against yours, and you felt the hard planes of his chest against your shoulders while he played with your hair.

"I've finished my bath," he announced, chin held high. Snorting, you put aside your embroidery and scratched his chin.

"Yes, how noble of you. Did you wash behind your ears?"

He sent you a sour look, prompting another giggle.

"Don't mother me," he groused, hands worming under your nightgown. He sighed contentedly, palms cupped warmly over your breasts. You inhaled sharply and shivered at the pleasant feeling. John's rough hands smoothed appreciatively over your waist, and you could feel his lips sucking at your neck.

You let him have his fun, then abruptly pulled away. A slight twinge of regret at the loss of his warm body, but his affronted expression made up for it.

"John, it's evening. You need to dress for bed," you said gently, adjusting your nightgown.

He blinked, confused.

"John-"

"Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?" His eyes were narrowed and he folded his brawny arms over his chest. The sight of his golden skin made you falter momentarily, eyes skating downwards.

You sat further away, pushing a smile from your cheeks. When he reached for you and you retreated, his lip curled, slightly amused.

"Are you playing games, flower? Well, my legs are longer and-"

"If you don't dress for bed, I'll never touch you again for as long as I live."

He gasped, eyes burning in an offended scowl. You wished to take it back, the bewildered hurt in his eyes was endearing. John stood, naked and scolded, for a moment, until he complied. Stomping to the dresser, he threw open the doors and yanked out a linen shirt. You watched with baffled amazement as he dressed in record time, slamming drawers and dropping obscenities.

Huffing, he stood at the foot of your bed, face twisted in a pout. You bit your lip, unable to resist.

"Your buttons are wrong, my love."

"Oh, damn it all to-aaagh," he fussed, fumbling for his neckline and wrenching the buttons closed. You grinned primly from under the coverlet, eyes glittering in the candlelight. John, finally righted, stomped over and shoved himself under the covers. He hesitated, then turned completely away from you.

You watched his still-wet curls soak the pillowcase. After a moment of silence, you began to worry. Inching closer, you rested a hand on his forearm.

"John?" Your voice was light, caring. He huffed and scooted away, nearly hanging off the bed.

"You'll fall off, silly thing, come here," you tugged him backwards. He held strong for a moment, but relented when you stroked his hair. A terrific sigh blew up his bangs, and he cast you with a dramatic eye roll.

"Why am I being persecuted?" He asked, voice petulant. Ah yes, what a reasonable man. Persecuted, he says.

"I'm not mad at you, John," you started, ruffling his curls fondly. His scowl melted a bit as you spoke gently. "There's just some...things we need to work out."

He pursed his lips, suspicious, but let you continue.

"You have a habit, dear. A very...tactile habit, and one that usually I enjoy-" he smirked- "but really, John? At breakfast?"

Realizing you were genuinely trying to convince him of something, he begrudgingly straightened up, curls matted and sticking up. You paused in your attention for a second, letting him ponder over the idea.

"All that to say," you continued, gauging his blank stare, "if you could contain your attention to this room, that would be just fine. But you've gotten a bit greedy in the out-of-doors, and people talk." You kissed his cheek softly and smiled at the flush across his nose.

John scowled.

"But love," he whined, "am I to just look at you all other hours of the day?"

You shrugged, nestling back under the covers. "You'll piece it together, dearest. Now turn over, I'm tired."

He was quiet then, the subtle muttering of his crossness just noticeable over the crickets outside.

You felt something warm and distinctly damp shove itself under your nightgown. Shrieking, your eyes shot open and you pushed his face away from your chest.

"John-"

"We are in this room, are we not?" His eyes sparkled mischievously and he winked. "And I haven't had my dessert."

You rolled your eyes, smiling in defeat. "I suppose."

A barrage of tickling kisses was pressed to your ribs, cascading the both of you in laughter.

tags!! comment to join xox ty for reading

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love @unear7hly

[uglypastels]

Darling pls would u mind writing a fic with OPLA Buggy where the reader is like a big fan of him. The type that wants his autograph, likes his shows and stuff like that and so Buggy melts for his little supporter and tries to impress them more and more bc for once he’s loved 💗🥰

no but i absolutely love this idea!! thank you so much for requesting it

masterlist | inbox - requests open

warnings: drinking. slightly dark themes - it's buggy after all. but nothing explicitly mentioned.

His Biggest Fan

How he did not notice you staring was a miracle. You knew it wasn't right, but how else could you make sure that it really was him?

Well, it probably didn't require that much to figure it out. After all, how many other pirates had long blue hair, a red nose, and that kind of make-up? At least, around where you were from, none.

That is why you had never expected to see him walk into this dingy little bar with his crew. You watched him from your table, from the edge of your cup, switching glances between his figure and the wanted poster that hung on the wall- more as an accomplishment than a warning, really- among the many others.

15 million Berry. A pirate doesn't get such a bounty for nothing. You had heard the tales of the Flashy Fool, the Genius Jester. The Ringleader of the most notorious outcasts and freaks in the East Blue, and somehow, he was sitting only two tables away from you.

You kept your eye on him the entire night, constantly egging yourself on to just go for it, to walk up to him and say something, anything.

Finally, encouraged by another large drink, you decided to make your move and walk over to the table.

He was sitting at the head of it, looking unimpressed as his crew drank the bar cry, smiling but never laughing at the jokes being made, generally uninterested by the conversations, thoughts far away from the island you all found yourselves on.

You cleared your throat, trying to call out his name, but it just got washed out by the noise around you. After another lost attempt, you tried to tap his shoulder, but before your hand reached it, his hand snapped up, nearly slapping you in the face.

'What?' He snapped alongside his limbs, looking over at you. His eyes glared with anger momentarily before softening up the slightest amount when he realised who was trying to speak to him.

'I'm sorry, sir.' You did your best to stop your voice from shaking. Some of his crew had stopped their conversations to look over at what their captain was doing, and you tried to ignore them as much as you could. 'Are you the pirate... Buggy?'

The acknowledgement sparked something up in him, and the corners of his wide smile grew even larger.

'The one and only,' he nodded his head, pleased, 'and who may you be?'

Nervously, you introduced yourself and watched him mouth your name to himself, grinning that wicked grin of his.

'I've heard a lot about you- about the things you've done. It's- well, it is quite impressiveve.'

'Why, thank you.' He cocked his head to the side, almost in bewilderment at the fact that someone might have found his accomplishments noteworthy. 'So, is there anything I can help you with?'

'Oh,' well, now that you were here, you weren't really sure what you had expected from approaching the pirate. 'No, I just wanted to- I'm not really sure.' You laughed off your own nerves and the silliness of the situation.

'Now, now, honey, no need to get so shy with me.' He picked up his drink. 'Tell me, are you a pirate?'

'Me? Oh no,' you, who never had left your small island and lived your days working on your family's farm outside of town, where the only form of excitement was to meet the fascinating figures that sailed by the harbour. 'I'm just-'

'A fan?' Buggy filled the gap in for you. 'Admirer?'

'I suppose so.' Your cheeks flushed hot.

'Never considered just sailing off into the distance? Seeking treasure and fame? No?' He read your body language as you responded to him with a shaking head. 'No. I wouldn't think so.'

He smiled at you, and so the quick turn from this kindness to the manic yell he shot at his crew, who had been giving him interested looks, was startling 'What the hell are you morons looking at?' he shouted out. The shock of it was enhanced by the fact that he reverted back to you and his smile just as quickly afterwards.

It should have scared you. Perhaps it even did, but you easily could have mistaken the fear for excitement. There was just something so raw and refreshing about the pirate captain, something you had never seen in any man before.

Buggy leaned over the table to look up at you, knuckles under his chin. 'But I bet you would want to go on a big adventure, hmm?'

'Uhm...'

'Go out into the world, follow your dreams? I'm sure there is something out there you'd want?' But was there? Your world so far had been so small that dreams had never even felt like an option.

When you didn't answer, Buggy sat back in his chair. 'Perhaps not. The pirate life isn't for everyone, is it, sugar?' He chuckled. 'Anything else I can do you for? An autograph maybe?'

'Oh, I don't mean to bo-' you didn't want to seem like the annoying kind of "fan", after all, but Buggy wasn't having any of it.

'Nonsense!' He clicked his fingers, and someone at the other end of the table got up and ripped the captain's wanted poster off the wall. They handed it to him as Buggy pulled a pen from the inside of his coat, signing his name in large, scratchy letters. 'Anything for my... biggest fan.'

Another hot flash came over your face as he handed you the poster.

'Thank you,' you said, unsure. Surprised. For an infamous pirate with a bounty of millions of Berry on his head, he was nothing like you had expected him to be. Not with that smile he gave you or the wink he had sent you off with.

And so, you left the bar. A big smile adorned your face, and you thought of your interaction with Buggy for the rest of the night.

And he did, too. He kept you in his mind's eye as he listened to his crew's schemes on how to take charge of the island they had just sailed to. The plans they had for the citizens. He could already see it take shape. The biggest audience he's ever had, all sitting and watching him. Crying and laughing with him. With you, his number one fan, as his special guest of honour.

Oh, the plans he had for the two of you.

[edges-of-night]

Hello dear friend! I was waiting for your request to open. Can I request a reader who is openly flirty while writing letters but in person is a complete love struck fool (I love flirting with my gf over text but I will scream and cry happily if she holds my hand or if she kisses me I FOLD)

Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you’ll enjoy your post!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn strikes me as someone who is not overly flirtatious. Maybe your letters have always been just a little too much for him. So in fact, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds you’re not as forward in person! He has no problem with little displays of affection and would like you to grow more confident in your romantic desires.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would definitely tease you about the discrepancy of your letters with your actual reactions to displays of affection. Maybe she’d even spread rumours about you being some sort of amorist or adventurer! This is, of course, never malicious, and Arwen is very good at noticing your daily level of comfort when it comes to this. She makes no secret of it: she enjoys your cute blushes to no end!

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir fancies himself very suave, I think. But I feel like he would share the exact same situation with you, actually! His letters may be overtly flirtatious and even spicy as he tries to out-do your writings – but in person, Boromir is actually just as nervous and easily flustered as you. It takes him some time to admit it, but you both find comfort in your similarities.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond initially thinks there must be a mistake – some jester who writes spicy letters to him in your name. When he confronts you, his sweet and innocent partner, with this conspiracy, your face heats up – of course it’s been you! Needless to say, Elrond understands immediately once you explain the situation to him. He’d even laugh at how everything went down.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

To be honest, I feel like Éomer would be disappointed at first. After all, he thought he’d meet an outgoing social butterfly – which maybe you are – but not someone who covers their flushed face as soon as he’d play back some of the things you wrote in your letters, against a wall in Edoras. Even in the candlelight, he can make out your blush. However, after overcoming this initial disappointment he delights in your little interactions.

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

Éowyn would need more time than others to realise the difference between your letters and your real personality. She’d mirror your forward flirts and innuendos and not notice at all how incredibly flustered you’d get – not until someone would point it out to her. She’d apologise immediately and ask with what you’d be comfortable, because that is her end goal after all – to make you feel good ♡

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

Poor Faramir would probably think something was wrong with him, or that you were disappointed by him in person. After all, why else wouldn’t you initiate any touches or flirtatious whispers, something that would be more in line with your letters? It’d take him some time to understand that you simply weren’t that kind of person. Needless to say, he’d happily take on the job of initiating affection himself!

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Being the dreamy bookworm that he is, Frodo initially thinks that you two were essentially role-playing in your letters! It is only when you apologise to him for being so flustered and nervous when he takes your hand that he understands. He’ll just laugh and tell you he wasn’t as adventurous as the character in his letters either. “Why, we can be flustered together then, can’t we? I’d like that.”

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Galadriel, of course, cannot be fooled when it comes to your feelings. She is quite content with knowing only your thoughts, be it through letters or telepathy. That said, she likes to indulge in the occasional handholding, while always making sure you’re not pushed too far out of your comfort zone.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf wouldn’t buy into your letters in the first place. While he does find them amusing to read, he knows very well how you get in person with just as little as a kiss. He accepts you as you are and doesn’t push anything on you that makes you uncomfortable. He also makes you laugh quite a bit with the letters he sends back to you!

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Gimli finds your letters, no matter how spicy they actually were, quite scandalous – in a good way! He keeps them a well-kept secret, delighting every time you write him a few lines. He doesn’t see that big of a discrepancy between the characters of your letters and in person. He likes you as a whole. To him, it is fairly normal that one is more forward and suave when having hours to think of what to write, instead of a spontaneous display of affection.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir cannot help but feel a gust of gratification after realising just how easily flustered you’d get in person. He deems it payback for all those shameless letters you keep writing him! However, that also means the stony Elf has to get out of his comfort zone: If he really wants to embarrass you, he’ll have to initiate a kiss or two, sooner or later… How unfortunate (not)!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas would definitely approach your shy personality with “training” – meaning he would initiate many romantic gestures and little displays of affection, just so that you could get used to them and more comfortable in your relationship with him. He’d be mischievous but never cruel: “Why do you not try to go ahead and kiss me, dearest? There is no need to be shy with me!” He’d even guide your hands, your chin, etc. ♡

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Although Merry has very eagerly sent you just as flirty letters backs, he is pleasantly surprised to meet you in person and finding that you would blush and get flustered so easily. He’d explain it to you as almost having ‘two partners’ – a ‘two for one’ deal, so to speak! He’s immensely excited about this difference but always makes sure to keep it a secret between the two of you.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would grow ten feet tall (haha) once he learned how shy and lovestruck you were in person. Because of his playful character, he’d tease you while trying to make you more comfortable, à la: “I dare you to hold my hand right now! If you don’t, I’ll just take yours!” That said, Pippin would totally write back letters that are just as flirty and spicy as yours!

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

Sam may be very shy himself, but he is absolutely charmed by your sweet blushes and cute whispers whenever he takes your hand or gives you a kiss. The man is just head over heels in love with you! Although he knows how you’ll react, it always takes him by surprise, and he’ll grin widely as you try to hide your blush.

[deathbysnakes]

heey love your writing!!! What about Pantalone POV taking care of a sick shy (y/n) who doesn’t understand why Pantalone is taking care of them and the Harbinger tells them cause he loves them??

Pantalone's Taking Care Of Sick Shy Reader

Pantalone x reader (Romantic)

Warnings:Sickness/Mentions of a toxic work environment/ Lot’s of physical affection

Pronouns:He/him (Pantalone) You/your (Reader)

Fluff/Comfort

Explanation:Pantalone taking care of sick shy [Name]

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You walked through the fatui headquarters sniffling slightly as you do. Your scarf and kept your head down to cover your runny nose and flushed face, not wanting anyone to see that you were sick, not that they would really care anyways, the life of being a fatui member was harsh, the pay was well, but you couldn't get out once you got in, and they don't exactly treat their workers well, no matter the rank, even the head harbinger Pierro the jester found himself being dragged down by the fatui's harsh conditions, it was fight to survive here.

"Wait just a second!" A voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you whipped around, only to be ment with the 9th harbinger, Pantalone, caressing both of your cheeks, inspecting your face. He placed a hand on your forehead and his eyes narrowed. "You're sick!" He exclaimed, a bit too dramatically for your liking. "Yes but I'm fine..." You mumbled, your face was the color of a cherry due to Pantalone's touch. "Unexpectable." Before you could say anything else, Pantalone was dragging you to the fatui medical bay by the back of your coat.

Pantalone practically barged into the fatui medical bay, you blushed in embarrassment and looked down at the ground as you felt eyes on you. Pantalone walked up to one of the medics. "I need antihistamine and vapor rub, now." Pantalone demanded. "F-for what?" The medic asked. "[Name] has a cold." Pantalone responded. The medic now looked confused, but still scared. "A common cold? [preferred pronouns] can walk it off, can't [preferred pronouns]? Common colds happen every-" Pantalone's expression shifted into a more angry one, and the medic immediately knew they shouldn't be asking questions and dashed off to get the stuff Pantalone demanded.

You were sitting in Pantalone's living room with a blanket wrapped around you, and on the table in front of you was your favorite food. Pantalone exited the kitchen with freshly brewed tea, sat it on the table, and sat down next to you. He bushed some hair out of your face and you shyly looked at him. He smiled warmly at you. "You look like you have something on your mind [Name]." You sighed and looked back down at your feet. "It’s just...I don't get it..." Pantalone's head tilted to the side. "Get what?" "Why you're making such a big fuss over me..." Pantalone chuckled and also looked down at his feet. "Can I be completely honest with you?" He asked. You looked back at him. "Of course." Pantalone's grin faded, and he looked a bit afraid. "Well...I'm in love with you..." Pantalone looked back at you, he was clearly scared of rejection. You felt a blush form on your already red face. "Wait, really?" "Really." Pantalone reached out and took one of your hands in both of his. "Do you feel the same?" You couldn't help but squeeze his hand back. "I...yes..." Pantalone's look of fear turned to a look of shock and happiness, he started to laugh, and he embraced you. "I thought you'd say no!" He said between laughter. "Oh, archons." He pulled back, his hands still on your shoulders, looking at you with a sweet smile. "I love you so much."

[nessinborderland]

V-E-N-U-S (01)

Pairing: Rafe x plus size!Reader

Genre: smut, dark-ish fic

Word Count: 6 ,7k

Warnings ⚠️ Mildly Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, more like Enemies to Enemies That Fuck tbh, Rafe Cameron Being an Asshole, mentions of bullying, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Mentions of death of a parent, Drinking, Drug Use, Rafe needs therapy asap, fatphobia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: The nickname he had given you in 8th grade was supposed to be ironic. In Rafe’s defense, he used to be a pretty stupid and cruel fourteen-year-old, as most kids that age are. So yeah, nicknaming the fat and nerdy chick Venus – like the goddess of sex and beauty – had been pretty hilarious in young Rafe's opinion.

What he would've never guessed was how much that name would fit you now as a grown woman.

Notes: this is - hopefully - the first of more OBX fics written by yours truly. A joy to write really because Rafe/Drew are turning me into a mad woman and I desperately needed something to quench the thirst. So here, enjoy 💖

AO3 | Masterlist

Rafe was pretty sure he was about to do something he was going to regret. That, or go insane with desire. He could feel something sizzling in his chest the longer he stared at you, hyper-aware of the attention you were attracting. Attention that did not come from him and him alone.

"Wow," Kelce whistled beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts, "Venus looking thick as hell, man, look at that ass."

Rafe had been looking. Hard not to, when the red bikini you were wearing hugged your body like a second skin, showing off your curves in ways that made him wonder how nice it would feel to trace your soft-looking skin with his palms.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only one with his eyes on you.

He gulped and took another sip of his beer – jaw clenching as he tried to not let his temper get the best of him over Kelce’s words. He couldn’t blame the other guy for staring when you looked that good, but goddamit, did Rafe feel the urge to punch him and every other ogler that dared to eye-fuck you.

His eyes never left your figure as you danced by the pool with the confidence of a young woman that had outgrown her teenage insecurities, a faint smile on your lips as you swayed your hips to the beat of the Latino song playing.

It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and – if you had been anyone else – he wouldn't have hesitated to approach you and charm you into his bed.

But he knew it would never work. Not on you.

It was the worst-kept secret that you disliked Rafe Cameron. No, not dislike; you hated his guts; you couldn’t even stand the mere sight of him, a scowl twisting your features every time you were forced to interact with him at the country club where you waited tables. He couldn’t really blame you for that though; not after the things he had done and said to you in high school.

Even Rafe himself was aware of how much of a nasty teenager he used to be; especially to you.

You just so happened to be his favorite plaything. Why, he had no idea, but young Rafe lived for the moments where you would avoid him like the plague during recess, just so he could hunt you down to bully you in the meanest way he could think of.

You had a crush on someone, and he happened to find out? He made sure to personally break your heart. You tried to develop a friendship? There he was to break it even before it started. You dared to tell on him to a teacher? He would harass you at your own home and bombard your phone with nasty texts until you dropped it.

He was king and you were his favorite court jester.

Not that you didn't put up a fight.

More than once you had punched and screamed at him, tears in your eyes as you pinned him down under your fiery gaze. He loved it. In a way, he wondered if that was what made him sink his claws into you in the first place. You scratched that urge in him for confrontation, for a good fight.

He still remembered that altercation between you that had turned into a slapping contest in the hallways, everyone around you urging you on until a teacher came to stop it. He could still feel the sting in his cheek, remember the way your hard gaze never left his even when his palm met your skin. That was one of the reasons why he couldn't stop bullying you, even when that inevitably got him in trouble.

Rafe knew that he used to be your worst nightmare, and, at the time, he hadn’t cared how it make you feel. Looking back, he regretted it.

He really had no idea how he had once thought of you as ugly. If he was being honest with himself, had he ever? Or had he just been a horny teenager with no idea of what to do with his feelings toward the ostracized fat girl? He couldn’t be sure. To be fair, you had been awkward in high school, always dressed in baggy clothes and worn-out shoes, with your glasses at the tip of your nose, which was almost always stuck in the pages of some thick fantasy novel.

But now? The only thing he could say was that you had finally learned how to dress and flaunt every piece of your body in the best way possible.

You had the body of a fucking goddess, an hourglass figure he could get lost in, all curves and wide hips and tits that he could bet even his large hands weren’t big enough to contain. More than once he had imagined your thick thighs wrapped around his hips as he thrust into you, your soft body pressed against his.

Ironically enough, you reminded him of the artwork ‘Venus and Adonis’, which he had seen during a visit to the Met as a kid.

But it wasn’t just your body that made his dick twitch with desire.

Your eyes still had that fire from when you were kids, and your gaze could smolder him on the spot if he locked eyes with you for too long. Your lips alone were enough to make him fantasize about you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, moaning around him as he came down your throat.

Fuck, did he want you. He was getting hard just imagining all the ways he could bend you over and fuck you until you were an incoherent mess.

A hand on his shoulder followed by his name snapped him out of his thoughts, and he changed his focus to the petite redhead staring up at him with a coy smile on her face.

“Hey, Rafe.”

“Hey, Amber, what’s up?” he greeted distractingly before redirecting his gaze back to you.

His brow furrowed as he noticed a guy approach you and start to dance right behind you, a hand going on your hip as he said something in your ear. Rafe could almost hear his jaw unclench as he saw you shake your head and bat the dude’s hand away, successfully making him leave you alone after that.

“What?” he asked, focusing again on the redhead that had said something to him.

“Was wondering if you have some of the… you know…” she shrugged and leaned against him before whispering, “The white stuff.”

“Got money to pay for it?” he asked straight, taking another sip of his beer as his gaze involuntary moved back to you, still dancing by the pool and thankfully on your own.

“No,” said Amber, her hand tracing patterns on his chest, “but I’m sure we can get to some kind of agreement…”

Rafe scoffed, her double meaning clear to him. It was not the first time she offered him a fuck or a blowjob in exchange for some grams of coke, and it wouldn’t be the last. Hell, any other night and he wouldn’t have hesitated to lock himself with her in the nearest room and let her ride his dick until he came.

But not tonight. She was not who he wanted.

“Sorry, Amber, no money no coke. That shit’s expensive.”

“Oh, c’mon, Rafe–”

“Just fuck off, will you?” he snapped, shaking her hand off of him. “Not in the mood tonight.”

He heard her gasp and curse at him before storming out, but he couldn’t care less if he had offended her.

Right now, you were walking towards him.

He took another gulp of his beer as he tried to act nonchalant; the last thing he needed was for you to notice his constant stare.

But then it happened. Just as you passed by him, so close he could see the beauty marks on your neck, you looked up at him and your lips twitched before you calmy broke eye contact and walked inside the house.

Rafe took a deep breath as he considered following you. You were trying to drive him insane on purpose, it was the only explanation. Why, though? That was a question he was dying to know the answer to. It didn’t even make sense, given your history.

But things had been… off for a while now. He hadn’t even thought much about it until you had smiled at him during one of your shifts at the country club, gaze bearing into his as you refilled his glass. You never smiled at him. Never. And you had definitely never looked at him with anything other than annoyance and contempt in your eyes. That look you had sent him though (so similar to the look you sent him just now), whatever it meant – and he was sure it meant something – that shifted something in him.

After that, it was like he was seeing you everywhere.

He was at the country club; there you were, catching his eye as you served drinks and took orders. He was at the beach with his friends; oh, there you were hanging around your pogue cousin and his pogue friends. But seeing you at a party? A party thrown by kooks, of all people? That was when he started paying attention.

Fuck it, he whispered to himself before downing the rest of his beer.

His feet were dragging him inside the house before he could register the decision to follow you, and Rafe passed by the other partygoers as he looked around for you. He ended up finding you in the kitchen, leaning against the marble counter as you sipped on a glass of water and checked your phone.

He hesitated for a second by the threshold, unsure of what to say, but it didn’t last when you finally noticed him, brows raising as he approached you with a smirk.

You were going to fucking end him.

“V-E-N-U-S,” he spelled as a way of greeting, “long time no see.”

“R-A-F-E,” you imitated in a mocking tone, looking at him with a raised brow. “You know your friends are doing coke in the living room, right? Not here.”

Your expression – together with the mocking movement of you wiping your nose – wiped the smirk off his face, making him bite the inside of his cheek as he tried not to let his temper get the better of him. He wasn’t expecting a conversation with you to go smoothly, but he wasn’t expecting such clear animosity.

He let out a fake laugh and tilted his head to the side as he took a step further into your personal space, suddenly wanting to make you as uncomfortable as you were making him.

“Ha ha ha, aren’t you hilarious. Nah, I was just wondering what a pogue like you does at a party like this…” he said, bite clear in his tone. “Your cousin doesn’t let you hang out with him and his loser friends anymore, is that it?”

Rafe grinned at the glint of growing fury in your eyes.

Let it all out, baby.

“Not that is any of your business, but this pogue is a big girl,” you said with a fake smile, hands on your waist as you stared up at him. “I can go to whatever party I want and, also, I’m not always around John B.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at your tits, “you’re a big girl, all right.”

Your eyes grew wide at his words, and you scoffed before crossing your arms over your chest, only giving him a bigger eyeful of your breasts. Fuck, he had to get his mouth on those.

“Fat jokes, Rafe? Really?” you said, raising a brow as he sent you a sneer. “How pubescent of you. You really haven’t changed, huh? Just the same mean rich kid.”

“Oh, c’mon Venus, are you still upset over high school? We’re adults now, can’t we put that shit behind us?” He offered you his hand in a clear peace offering and you scoffed, looking down at it like it had personally offended you. “Look, I’m sorry okay, for everything. Can you forgive me?”

He actually meant it, as odd as it was; especially if he got something else out of it. Rafe would apologize a thousand times if it assured him he would get a taste of you.

“Hmm...” you patted your lower lip in pretend contemplation, and Rafe had to control himself not to replace your finger with his. “Let’s see… besides all the things you said and did to me when we were teenagers – which, I confess, I’m still not over – you have tried to hurt my cousin one too many times for me to even consider forgiving you so… how about – no.”

Rafe dropped his hand with a sigh and an eye roll.

“Really mature of you.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re one to talk,” you scoffed as you purposely bumped against his side as you walked past him in direction of the sink to refill your glass. “Leave me alone and stop being a fucking creep, I know you and your friends have been staring at my ass all night.”

Rafe didn’t mean for the next words to leave his lips.

“Then maybe stop fucking walking around like you want me to spank it.”

A few seconds went by where neither of you said a word, your back still turned to him as you refilled your glass. He heard as you turned the faucet off, another moment passing before you slowly turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“What did you say?”

“What, is that not what you want when you lean over right in front of me at the country club?”

You snorted before taking a sip of your water and spilling the rest in the sink, setting the now-empty glass on the counter before sending him a very familiar look of disdain.

“You’re honest to god disgusting.”

“Okay, listen…” He took a deep breath as he chose the right words, seeing his efforts to get on your good side going down the drain. “I know that you hate me given our history, but–”

“Whatever you’re gonna say – don’t,” you stated, pushing him aside as you left the kitchen.

Rafe watched with mouth agape, brows furrowing and hands closing to fists as you pushed him aside and left the kitchen.

“You know what? Fucking fine!” he snapped at your back as he controlled himself not to go after you. “Be a bitch about it If you want, why do I care!”

Fuck you for being such a stuck-up and disrespectful bitch. No piece of ass was worth the way you backtalked. Screw apologizing, and screw you. You should be thankful he even looked at you in any way that wasn’t revulsion.

With a frustrated slap against the countertop and a growing need to punch someone, Rafe left the kitchen after you, set on making you regret your attitude by the end of the night.

«»«»«»«»«»

“Hey, bro, you all right?” Topper asked from his seat next to Rafe.

“Yeah, why?” the blond answered as he took a drag of the cigarette in between his fingers.

The party was still ongoing, with people dancing and getting drunker by the hour, including Rafe. His temper had subsided somewhat after another beer and some lines of coke, but the cogs in his brain were still turning as he concocted a plan that would make you swallow your words (and something else, if he was lucky).

He still hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring at you, but drinking was helping him not give a shit about it. He could look at whatever and whomever he pleased, and it was no one’s business – including yours. If you didn’t like it, you were more than welcome to leave his vicinity.

Rafe knew you knew he was watching you. You glanced at him from time to time, never giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze. That was making his temper rise but, more than that, was seeing you sitting by the pool with some guy chatting you up (with his hand dangerously close to your thigh, he couldn’t help but note with a tick of his jaw).

“Just noticed you’ve been… distracted all night.”

“And? That a problem?”

“Not at all…” Topper answered nonchalantly, pausing for a moment before adding, “Venus looks pretty hot, doesn’t she?”

That made Rafe break his intense stare on you to focus on Topper, the other blond raising his hands at the confrontation in his eyes.

“Wow, man, easy,” he chuckled. “Can’t blame you for staring at her all night.”

“I haven’t been staring at her all night.”

“Sure, you haven’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafe asked, starting to get particularly annoyed by the tone in his friend’s voice. “Just say whatever you wanna say, Topper.”

“Chill, bro, just noticed you seem pretty interested in her, that’s all,” he explained with a nod in your direction. “You guys made amends or something?”

“Nah, she still hates my guts and she’s still a major bitch.”

“Well, can’t blame her…”

“You’re one to talk, Top. As far as I remember, you were there too.”

“Yeah, but I’ve actually apologized for it like ages ago. She has been pretty friendly lately, that’s why I asked. Plus,” Topper paused to take a sip of his drink, “she has been staring at you a lot too.”

Rafe had nothing to say to that, just grunting in acknowledgment as he finished his beer in one swift gulp before standing up and stretching his arms above his head, sighing as his joints popped.

“Gonna take a leak, be right back.”

This time, he didn’t go back to his friends. No, he wanted to look at you closer, make sure you knew he wasn’t one to be played with. You weren’t kids anymore, but he could still make your life hell if he felt like it. If you wanted to be a bitch, then he would be a bitch back.

And that’s why he sat right beside you by the pool, so close he noticed you flinching when he sat down and his hip bumped yours, his foot also lightly touching yours as he submerged his legs in the heated pool water. You gave him no reaction besides that, your tone of voice unchanged as you kept talking and laughing as if he wasn’t even there.

“I actually don’t have the game, but I love watching playthroughs on Youtube,” he heard you say in an enthusiastic tone. “Would love to play it someday though, I have the books and they’re pretty great.”

Rafe leaned back on his hand and watched you both, a new cigarette in between his lips, chuckling as he noticed the little shimmy you did as you tried to move as far away from him as you could without sitting on the other guy’s lap.

“No way you haven’t played them!” the dude exclaimed, leaning closer to you. “I have them all on PS5. You know what, why don’t you come by my house someday, we can play together.”

“I would–”

Rafe snorted, followed by a laugh as you stopped whatever you were going to say. He tried to just sit there and breathe down your neck. He really did. But he couldn’t stand listening to that fucking guy anymore.

“Of for fuck’s sake, dude, will you shut the fuck up with that nerdy shit?”

He watched as both you and your friend finally shut up, the easy smile on your face being replaced by a scowl as you turned to him, mouth open to no doubt tell him to go fuck himself.

“Rafe, c’mon man, what’s your problem?”

Ryan. Or was it Brian? Rafe didn’t care what the dude’s name was, but he was pretty close to just giving it a go and trying to drown the guy for even daring to talk back at him. His dad was some distinguished surgeon or some shit, so Rafe knew that if he got into a fight with him consequences would inevitably come in the form of Ward, but honestly? He couldn’t care less right now.

“Me?” he asked in mock surprise, pointing at himself with a scoff before throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “Oh, I got no problem. But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off so I could talk with my girl here. You know, I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to fuck her right anyway. She’s, well, she’s not a small girl and I don’t see a lot of muscle on you so–”

Your elbow hitting his side was enough for him to let you go with a huff. Rafe just stared as you stood up in a hurry, the eyes of the people that had noticed the altercation following you as you stormed off.

He watched you go, content with himself, eyes darkening as he focused on the other guy again.

“Lucky for you,” he started, threat clear in his voice as he stood up, “I got more important shit to do right now.”

With that, he stormed off after you.

He found you by the front lawn, where you now stood in a pair of shorts and a fine jacket, your phone in hand as you no doubt called someone to come get you. Rafe didn’t even hesitate before snatching the phone from your hand, putting it against his own ear as the familiar voice of John B called your name.

“Yeah, sorry, she’s busy right now,” he said, not waiting to hear the response as he disconnected the call.

“Hey, are you fucking insane?” you exclaimed as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Nah, just drunk,” Rafe laughed as he held the phone above his head and out of your reach, watching you jump and press yourself against him in your sad attempts at getting the device back.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you said with a swat at his chest before taking a step back and extending him your hand. “Give me back my phone, you asshole!”

“What’s in it for me?” he dared with a smirk.

“Not getting kicked in the dick, for starters,” you replied, still demanding your phone. “Also, can you tell me why the fuck did you act like a complete idiot back there? First, you insult me, then you keep staring at me like some perv, and now you just tried to… what, exactly? Embarrass me in front of everyone by causing a scene?”

“You should thank me, that dude had bad intentions.”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause your intentions towards me are so pure.”

He paused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not some naïve little girl, Rafe. What, think I wouldn’t know why you’ve been staring at me like I’m the last cookie in the jar?”

“Okay, listen, whatever you think you saw–”

“What, embarrassed to admit you wanna fuck the fat girl?”

“Be careful, Venus,” he warned, eyes slanting as he took a step towards you. “Sometimes words backfire.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to fuck me?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

You did nothing but stare into each other’s eyes for what to Rafe felt like an eternity. He could see the fire in your gaze, feel the desire burning inside him as his dick hardened under his shorts at the sight of your chest right in his face and your lips so close to his. All he had to do was to grab you by the back of your neck and press his lips against yours. Just a simple move and he would know what your lips tasted like.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me even if I let you,” you broke the spell, fingers touching his chest as you pushed him away, challenge in your eyes.

A moment passed. Then Rafe smirked.

“Bet.”

You shrieked as he picked you up and over his shoulder, and he huffed out a laugh as you screamed his name and thrashed against his hold. Sure, you were heavier than any other girl he had done this to, but you were nothing he couldn’t handle. With a slap to your ass and a hand on your shorts to stabilize you, he returned inside the house like a man who had just hunted down the big prize.

He ignored your screams of his name and your fists against his back, barely noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he took the stairs one by one.

He opened an unlocked door, commanding the half-naked couple in there to leave before throwing you on the bed without ceremony.

“Oh, I’m gonna make you regret this!” you shouted as he locked the door. “You can bet I’m gonna spit on every single one of your drinks from now–”

He shut you up by cradling your face and pulling you up into a deep kiss, tongue swiftly passing by your parted lips as you weakly tried to push him off. A bite on his tongue made him grunt and pull away, only to see you staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest, a small stain of his blood on your lips.

“I couldn’t care less if you spit in my drinks,” he said as his thumb grazed your lip to collect his blood before pushing it in against your tongue. “Now be a good girl and suck on it.”

He couldn’t say he was surprised when you bit him instead, pushing him away as you crawled further to the other side of the bed, a look of unease and want mixing in your heated gaze.

That look was enough for him to decide how this night was going to go.

“Touch me again and I’ll bite your dick off.”

“Do you imagine my dick in your mouth that often?”

“Ugh, you’re such a pig!”

Rafe took off his shirt in one swift move, throwing it somewhere in the room before getting on his hands and knees on the mattress, eyes never leaving yours as he crawled closer.

“I can be worse if you let me.”

“Rafe–”

“What?” he asked as he successfully trapped you under his frame, lips brushing against your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Is the big bad girl scared?”

One of his hands found its way to one of your tits, palming the soft mound over your bikini. His dick jolted as you let out a soft moan, and he laughed at how well everything was going. He never thought of you as the kind of girl that would just lay there while he, Rafe Cameron of all people, touched you like this. If he knew this, he would’ve had his way with you years ago.

Years ago. He almost wanted to hit himself from how stupid younger Rafe had been.

He took your mouth in his, smiling into the kiss as you kissed him back, hands on his shoulders pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. Rafe took that opportunity to get himself comfortable in between your thighs, moaning as his erection grazed against your core.

He had to get you naked.

“No, Rafe, we can’t… we should stop,” you mumbled against his lips.

But the blond didn’t stop kissing you, going from your lips to sucking at the skin of your neck as his hand wandered past the waistline of your shorts. You smelled so fucking good, and your skin was so damn soft he wanted nothing more than press himself against you as he fucked you hard and deep.

“Give me a good reason to,” he drawled in your ear as his fingers found your hot core.

You gasped as he pressed against you, and he couldn’t help but notice how your nails gripped his shoulders and your back arched at his ministrations. He rolled his hips against yours, smiling at your sudden lack of words. You wanted this as much as he did, no point in hiding that from him now. Not when he could feel how wet you were under the fabric of your bikini, not when your thighs shook, and your chest heaved like you couldn’t wait to have him inside you.

In one swift move, he sat back with his legs folded under him, pulling you with him in the process. You gasped as he sat you in his lap, legs on either side of his hips.

Whatever you were about to say got lost when he kissed you with the ferocity of a man that wasn’t about to let anything stop him from getting what he wanted. Even if that someone was you. He was going to fuck you tonight; of that he was sure.

“Be a good girl for me and relax,” he said as he slid the straps of your bikini down your shoulders, finally exposing your breasts.

Rafe nearly groaned as he finally got sight of them, big and soft and warm under his palm. He wasted no time in popping a nipple into his mouth, moaning as the bud hardened under his tongue. You yelped and put your arms around his head, caging him against your chest as you arched it against his face.

Good, he thought with a nib to your flesh, I could suck on these for days.

The hand that wasn’t busy kneading your other breast curled around your waist, keeping you close to his body as you swayed in his hold, your soft moans filling his ears.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve been doing to me?” he asked as he grazed his lips and tongue over both of your tits, hands going down your body to palm your ass over your shorts. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane...”

You didn’t bother acknowledging his words besides a soft hum. He glanced up at you, biting his lip at the sight of your heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips. Everything in you was screaming at him to take you, fuck you so hard everyone in this house would hear you scream his name, pump you so full of his cum that you would have to leave this room with it dripping down your thighs like the whore you were. His whore.

After tonight, you belonged to Rafe Cameron, whether you wanted it or not.

You yelped in surprise as he pushed you back on the mattress, staring at him like you had just woken up from a dream. Rafe admired your tits bounce for a moment before focusing on unzipping your shorts, pulling them down your legs with no hesitation before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your bottoms and giving it the same treatment.

He licked his lips at the sight of your pussy waiting for him in between your plush thighs, gaze darkening as he noticed how you were already glistening with arousal. His gaze went up and down your naked body several times, drinking in your curves and rolls, beyond turned on by the vision that was you naked and blushing under him.

“Soaking wet for me, aren’t you?”

He touched your clit then, smirking at the gasp you let out as his fingers went up and down your slit before pushing two digits inside. He groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. You were so wet he had no doubt he would be able to sink fully into you in one swift thrust.

With that in mind, he pushed away to get himself undressed, sighing in relief as his hard cock broke free from the confinements of his underwear. He was quick on going back to his place on top of you, spreading your legs open as he lined up with your core.

He was pressed against you – the tip of his cock wet with your arousal and lips on the curve of your neck as he readied himself to take you – when you slapped his shoulder hard enough to break him out of his lusty state.

“What?” he asked, starting to get annoyed by your constant interruption. “You’re regretting it now?”

“No,” you said before surprising him by pushing him onto the mattress and straddling his hips. “I just like to be on top.”

When you sank down onto him, your velvety walls squeezing his dick, he could swear he saw stars. Rafe gripped your hips as you started bouncing up and down his length, eyes locked on yours as he forced you down on him in sync with your movements.

“How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?” he asked, smirking at the look you sent him.

“I could ask you the same–”

You moaned as he slapped your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh only making you clench tighter around him. He was living the dream, buried deep inside you as your tits bounced in his face, your fucked up expression making something akin to male pride swell in his chest. You were enjoying having his dick inside you as much as he was.

His hands roamed your body as you fucked him, head thrown back in continuous moans and body shivering in pleasure as he started rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh my god, don’t stop,” you moaned as you leaned over to support yourself on his chest.

Your moans and whimpers were like music to his ears, and he quickly realized he wouldn’t get tired of fucking you so soon; not when you looked and sounded like that while dripping down his cock.

He wanted more.

In one swift movement, he turned your body around, pushing you back on the mattress before grabbing your legs by the back of your knees and folding you in half. This was how he wanted you; on your back with your legs spread and ready to get fucked senseless.

“Oh fuck!” you moaned with a high-pitched scream as he sank back into you, filling you up to the brim.

The sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs filled the room, mixing with your moans and whimpers as he fucked you at a ruthless pace, forcing your body up the mattress with every hard thrust. Your eyes were closed, and your head was thrown back, giving him full access to your neck as he lapped and nibbed all over your pulse and collarbone, enjoying your scent mixed with his.

“You take my dick so well,” he whispered in your ear, his words followed by a deep thrust that made you yelp his name. “Yeah, just like that, scream my name. Let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

He could feel your pussy clench around him like a vice at his words, sucking him in like you didn’t want to let him go.

“R-Rafe, don’t stop please, I’m so close.”

He obeyed your request, dying to see you unravel beneath him. Rafe didn’t stop fucking you even as you came, your legs shaking and pussy fluttering around him as you let out a muffled sob. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He wanted to make you come like that again.

You moaned when he pulled out, eyes opening to glance at him with a question on your lips before he surprised you by twisting your hips to the side.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered. “Ass up.”

“You’re way too bossy for your own good,” you mumbled, abiding by his order all the same.

He chuckled at your words with a loud slap to your ass, grabbing his glistening erection before pushing again inside your dripping folds. You both moaned in unison as he entered you, hands keeping your hips in place as he settled on a rhythm.

Fucking you in this position – ass jiggling as he filled you up and hand gripping your hair, completely at his mercy – made him almost slap himself from how stupid he had been in the past. He wasted all this time looking down on you only to now wish he had been fucking you from day one.

“I should’ve fucked you back in high school,” he growled in your ear as he pressed his chest to your back.

“Like I would’ve let you.”

“You’re letting me fuck you now, aren’t you? On all fours, taking my dick like the good little slut that you are.”

“Oh, shut up asshole. Just come already.”

Rafe chuckled at that, grabbing your chin and turning your face to him before giving you a rough kiss, teeth clashing and pulling at your lip before he promised you, “Keep talking like that and I might just put that smart mouth to good use.”

You laughed then, a moan quickly wiping the smirk off your face as Rafe started touching your clit again, fingers expertly touching you just as he figured out you liked it.

“Come around my cock one more time, baby,” he purred as he sped up his thrusts, his movements shallower as he felt himself near the edge. “Come around me before I stuff you full of my cum.”

“Come inside me and you’re dead.”

Rafe laughed, not at all threatened by your words. Nothing was stopping him from coming inside you, consequences be dammed. You would leave this room with something to remember him by.

He came undone as you orgasmed a second time, firmly holding you by the hips as he came inside you as deep as he could, set on riding both your orgasms for as long as he could.

You both lay on the bed when he was done, a mess of tangled and sweaty limbs as Rafe refused to pull out and drag himself away from you.

“Can you get off of me?” you mumbled after a moment of nothing but panting.

Rafe took a deep breath, not saying anything as he savored your body pressed comfortably against his, soft skin warm and damp like his own. He wanted to prolong the moment, knowing damn well that you would go back to despise him as soon as he pulled out of you. He didn’t want to admit it, but he would rather not go back to how things were, no matter how entertaining the beef you had going on was.

“Rafe…”

He sighed and pulled out without a word, sitting back against the headboard as he watched you stand up and start looking around for your clothes, giving him a nice view of your ass as you leaned over to grab your discarded bikini and shorts.

That familiar tension sat between you in the heavy air as you got dressed without any words shared between you. In the meanwhile, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off of you, waiting for your next move.

No way he would let you leave as if nothing had happened.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked after he was fully dressed, watching as you texted someone on your phone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this was not supposed to happen,” you said with a shrug. “And it’s definitely not happening again.”

He held your gaze for a moment, taking a step in your direction as you made a move to leave.

“Oh yeah?” he said as he tilted your chin up. “Says who?”

“I do,” you said, batting his hand away before walking past him and opening the door. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

Rafe wasn’t an inflexible man; if you wanted to leave, he would let you. But if there was something he was, was stubborn. For tonight he would leave you be, but he couldn’t promise that tomorrow – or every day after that – would be met with the same leniency.

You would be his, and that wasn’t up for discussion.

«»«»«»«»

Part 2 ->

[chaoticgoodthief]

Slay The Princess Ramble

Ok I have been having Thoughts about the Voice of the Contrarian and am not afraid to share them. Will start under read more link because this might get a little long.

Ok, one of the Main Things about the Contrarian is that he doesn't follow the narrative, and I accept this, but I cannot emphasize enough just how Different he is from the other voices.

Ok, let's start at the tip of the iceberg here. Change. Born as counterparts to the Shifting Mound's Princesses, it makes sense that the Voices remain static in their personalities. Broken is submissive. Cold is apathetic. Hunted is animalistic. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But Contrarian actually changes over the course of The Stranger path. He sees what he's done to the Princess, recognises that it has hurt her, and just ... drops the jester act immediately. The only other Voice that really changes at all is Hero, and that's because he's literally always by your side. And that's not even getting to how you find him Strange Beginnings.

Strange Beginnings. Oh, do I have Feelings about this ending, but I'll focus on just the Contrarian (for now). Out of all the Voices, all the cabins, the Contrarian is the only Voice other than the Hero himself that can join you in the finale. Maybe it's because his change has made him closer to the Shifting Mound than any of the other potential voices. Maybe it's because inside of The Stranger's cabin was the first you saw, rather than the Princess'. Maybe it's something else altogether, I don't know. However, what I do know is that once again, he's changed. He's ... honestly more downtrodden than even the Moment of Clarity version of himself. Only making jokes when he notices Hero's concern, accepting the knife without a second thought, (even calling himself the worst part of the Long Quiet in the most recent update, I've heard). But that's still not the end of things.

I think what interests me the most about Contrarian, though, is his relationship with the princess. He. Does. Not. Have. One. She is a literal stranger to him. He is not the Stranger's true counterpart, not really. Nothing about him contradicts her, unlike how all the other Voices have been named after their actions relative to their Part I Princesses. Instead, he is the Contrarian because he contradicts the Narrator. I can not emphasise enough how wild that makes my brain go. Because it explains SO MUCH about why he's Different from the others. Long Quiet is a foil for the Shifting Mound, his Voices are foils for her Princesses. Everything about them is static, unchanging. Because they are a single being, spiralling further into itself with every decision you make, only ever changing if you refuse to follow the path set out for you. And then there's him, the reflection of an echo of a mortal. (If he was there in the Spectre route, would she see him as something Other as well, something that once belonged but has been fragmented off of its given path).

Gah I'm obsessed with him. I want to dissect him for science. I want to tear and rip and pull him apart until I can understand what mysteries still hide behind the facade he shows the world. What are you hiding, you smiling little freak of nature?

[a-menagerie]

Everything Has Changed

Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

Molly didn’t know where he was, barely knew who he was. When he finally opened his eyes - eyes? eyes never shut - and was faced with a pink firbolg, Molly was more confused than ever. So he ran.

Empty empty empty. He’s lost in himself and in this terrifying cavern - of flesh? - and he doesn’t know anything. There’s words in his mouth and people around him and he doesn’t know who anyone is. They’re hugging him and saying things and he’s just lost.

Except you, back behind everyone and quiet, you catch his eye and he knows you, he’s sure he does. But his heart is beating out of his chest and he can’t catch his breath so he gives in, lays on the ground, lets himself fade out.

*

Molly had never seen the Blooming Grove before, but he quite liked it and the Clay family. Eccentricity appealed to him - he was eccentric, wasn’t he? - but the family was just kind. They almost reminded him of another group, people he couldn’t quite picture or name, but the lingering feeling of family made him wonder.

For a week or so, you watched as Molly wandered the Grove, slowly recovering memories. He was never far from Yasha. Jester had fixed up his coat for him and he looked nearly like he had before you’d lost him. Some missing eye tattoos and slightly underfed but that would change with time.

*

“Is there a reason you’re avoiding a particular tiefling?” Fjord asked you, joining you where you were weeding a section of the cemetery.

“I spoke to Jester like an hour ago.” You reply without looking up.

“Alright, smartass.” Fjord scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m not avoiding Molly; I’m giving him space.” You say.

“Does he know that?” Fjord asks. You look up at him sharply, frowning.

“He doesn’t remember…us. Whatever we were. I don’t wanna add any extra pressure on him.”

“And when he does remember, what then?” Fjord asks.

“I’ll tell him what I just told you.” You stand, yanking off your gloves. “What’s this about Fjord?”

“Everyone’s worried about you.” Fjord admits, rubbing his neck. “All of this is…a lot. Molly’s back but you’ve hardly reacted, barely talked to him. I just wanted to check in.” You try not to bristle at Fjord, he’s just doing what he does, checking in on his friends. But hardly reacted?

You’ve cried yourself to sleep almost every night since you returned to the Grove.

What was worse? Losing Molly or having a Molly who didn’t remember you? Losing Molly or having him so close but out of reach? Your chest aches and you fought hard not to cry in front of Fjord.

“I’m fine.” You tell him.

“Bullshit.” You and Fjord both jump as Beau speaks up. Sometime during your conversation she’d wandered over and now she was facing you with crossed arms and a raised brow. “You look like shit.”

“Beau.” Fjord hissed. She just rolled her eyes, waving her hand at him.

“You gotta talk to him or something, just watching you is making me miserable.” She said, poking you lightly in the chest.

“I don’t want to pressure-“ Beau cuts you off.

“Yasha said he asks about you, can’t figure out why you’re avoiding him. Molly’s not remembering everything yet but - just go talk to him.”

*

Molly’s been watching you, keeping track of where you were throughout the day. He wasn’t sure why. He’d wanted to speak to you before now but you seemed to disappear anytime he got too close.

Until today. He was sitting against a tree outside the Clay home, reading through Beau’s journal. Well, more specifically, he was struggling to read the journal and was considering asking Beau to just read it aloud. Molly looked up at the sound of feet crunching grass.

“Hey.” You greeted him with a small smile.

“Hello.” Molly replied blankly, confused - and intrigued - by the way his pulse quickened in your presence.

“Can I join you?” Molly nods so you settle beside him on the ground. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else though. What do you say?

“Did I…do something to you?” Molly asks and you jolt back to the present, out of your head. “To make you avoid me?”

“Oh no, no, I wasn’t-“ You sigh. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you but I was. I wanted you to have space.”

Molly cocked his head, observing you through narrowed red eyes. He looked back to the journal then his gaze wandered to your lap, where you were wringing your hands together.

“Space from you?” You nodded and he hummed in thought. “Because…we were together?”

“…yes.” You answer. Molly blinked.

“Wait, really?” He asked, grin curling across his lips.

“Yes?” You reply, slightly confused.

“I didn’t think I’d be right.” Molly laughed, reaching and grabbing one of your hands. “I’d hoped, of course, and obviously something had happened between us but- it really was like this, the two of us?”

Molly was looking at you so openly and adoringly that you almost couldn’t think straight, couldn’t really fight the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Yeah, for a while before…” You trailed off but started again. “I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to be with me, remember me right away.”

“Trust me, I’m very unhappy to have forgotten anything about you.” A sweet sentiment but you’re pretty sure Molly’s enunciation was meant to be teasing too. “Thank you for treating me so kindly though I would have preferred you spoke to me earlier.”

“Sorry.” You say softly, glancing up from your hand in his to look at him. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“We’ll just have to make up for lost time.” Molly said. He took a deep breath, just enjoying your presence when something tickled at the back of his mind.

“You used to call me your Tea-lightful Tealeaf when you were in a silly mood.” Molly says it as a statement but pulls away enough to see your face, to see if he’s right.

“Okay, you could’ve waited to remember that.” You groan, covering your face with your free hand. “I only did it because it made you laugh.”

“Don’t you hide from me.” Molly pulled your hand off your face, held both of your hands in his. “We have all the time in the world now to be silly and laugh together.”

“I’ve missed you. A lot.” You manage to say without crying. Molly gives you a small smile.

“I feel like I’m missing me still.” Molly admits. “But I have you and our very odd friends, so my memories can take their time. They’ll return, in time.”

“And in the meantime,” Molly says, leaning his forehead back against yours, “I will delight in learning about you all over again.”

[moonsoupstar-ao3]

Demons in aoex: a common misconception

Hi guys! Here I'm again talking :)

I posted this last night, but Tumblr decided to be an ass, almost gave me a heart attack (the post wasn't showing anywhere, not even in my own blog), and not show this in the tags, so here we go again.

Warning for some minor and major spoilers from the manga, read at your own risk!

Most spoilers are for Asylums' arc, and the lastest arc in the manga. So, if you haven't read them, maybe don't read the examples I've used after Mephisto! I didn't explicitly said too much, but I spoke about some major events a few times.

So, demons in aoex are a big part of the story (no shit!), but there's also a HUGE narrative that has been given to us, the audience, and the characters in the manga from the very beginning.

Demons are evil (or, to a certain degree, "neutral).

And

Demons are demons.

Sorry for how redundant that sounded, please let me explain.

Demons in aoex has been presented to us as "biblical/mythological demons" (depending on where the inspiration for them came from), mostly for the top demons and so one. But, in the very story, we have been repeatedly told that this is not true.

One of the mayor arguments of this is in the fight against that spore castle demon (sorry, I don't remember the name right now) from season 2. Both, in the manga and the anime, the fire demon (again, I'm sorry, I suck at names and I just want to get this done) that helps Rin burn the spores told him that he (or it was a she?) had been given tons of names an titles during his existence, from angel to guardian to demon, it was always just a label given by humans to defined him.

So, if demons are not necessarily demons, what are they? They are "spirits", plain and simple. Beings with powers from the mirror dimension (Gehenna).

Why are they evil then? Most are not! They're just mischievous or curious, especially the ones that don't tend to interact with humans. They're driven by impulsivity, naivety, ignorance, desires, curiosity, jealousy, resentment (does this remind you of any example? I'm sure it does), but not raw evilness MOST of the time.

Of course, there are evil ones, I won't be the one to deny it.

But, as I said, they're driven by emotions. The thing with demons is that they're not emotionally mature, nor do they completely understand human cultures and human's needs. On top of that, demons has been even worshiped all over the world during every step of civilization, so try to teach them to treat humans, well... humanly?

One of the biggest humanity supporters (not humans supporter, humanity as a concept/single thing and its creations), Mephisto, despite all his efforts for protect and help humans, doesn't see most of them as "equals". He does care, except that he just truly cares for the ones closest to him, everyone else are more like "ants" in his eyes. He's driven by desires when it comes to protect humans, the desire too see what things they would invent in the future.

(I have like, a LOT to say about my jester man (actually about almost all the main characters), so here's a limited extract of that).

And, then, there's the other side of the coin, Lucifer. I do believe that he, in his own twisted vision, do what he does because he thinks it will be good for everyone, but we cannot deny that he's following his plan for his own selfish reasons. He doesn't care about humans, or demons, or anyone but himself, not in a deeply way at least. He won't sacrifice himself for anyone, geez, he won't mind putting them at risk if his emotions get off control (that damn million yards stare when Yukio betrayed and challenged him 👀👀👀), but will stop if he's, well, stopped first.

Someone may think, "what about Satan? Wasn't he doing all that shit to get him a body?" And, let me tell you, he doesn't care about him either. He literally destroyed his body to catalyzed the Blue Night (though I must say I don't think he saw that coming, he just did it because he was furious and, partially, jealous that his father not only got a body (the thing he has yearned since forever and is obsessed about getting) before him, but also decided to threw it away as well as the elixirs research because he found "something better" ← quotation marks, 'cus I also think he thought Satan was being delusional), and took advantaged of the fact that Satan thought it was Yuri who betrayed him to convied him into (potentially) allying with him.

And speaking of, what about Satan? The "big baddie", dear, all I have to say is that I have a whole entire post in my draft dedicated to him. So, to summarize it, Satan is the equivalent of a child king throwing tantrums, who is trapped in the middle of political and royal plots to control everything through him, and has barely or no one who really cares about him at this point. (← I also has a LOT, LOT to say about my last statement, and it needs at least three entire paragraphs to fully bring the meaning behind it, so please take this bit with a grain of salt).

ㅤ

With all that being said, I don't know how to close this post :D! Jokes aside, I really don't JABDNDJDBDK

Sorry for any grammatical mistake or weird wording, English isn't my first language. I also would love to know your point of view! Or, overall, discuss my post! I love talking about aoex, so feel free to speak to me, even if you disagree with literally everything I said! /Seriously.

[rorywritesjunk]

Be gentle with yourself as you uncover Your best kept secrets yet to be discovered

Buggy meets an infamous pirate who dabbles in magic that everyone seems to be after, but they only have eyes for Buggy. Why is he so special? Rating: PGish. Warning: None. Buggy is unhappy and doesn't want strangers touching him without asking first. A/N: My "Howl's Moving Castle" fic based off the movie because I never read the book. It will have different moments than the movie just to omit some things. This story uses "You" but I couldn't not give the character a name and for some reason "Shore" is what I thought of. And Shore is referred to as they/them, nonbinary, and breaks hearts wherever they go. Buggy is Sophie in this fic, is 22, and not always in a good mood.

Title comes from "Better In The Morning" by Birdtalker.

TAGLIST: @fanaticsnail

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4

Chapter I

The final performance of the evening finished. The final bows given as the lights faded and the music played the performers out. Buggy stood to the side and out of the spotlights, arms crossed with a scowl as he watched his companions soak up the attention: the attention he deserved for all that he did for them but he was never thanked. Sewing costumes, fixing props, the makeup, cleaning up before, during, and after each performance. And every night Buggy was there, ready to do what was needed to ensure the circus lived on. 

It was frustrating. He had been a promising performer, up and coming, his former ring master said so, but when he died and another took over, Buggy’s chances were destroyed. He had to stay at the bottom of the pile, taking care of everyone and everything. It was hard, he watched as a child how the circus was built up, but now it lacked the flash, the passion, the creativity he once knew, and no one would listen to him. Years of being pushed aside took its toll on Buggy. He stopped offering suggestions, only staying around to try and maintain the image of the circus he once knew.

He spent hours cleaning, ignoring the chattering voices of the performers. Their latest bit of gossip was of a notorious pirate, one who stole the hearts of beautiful men and women at every town they went to. He heard a jab made at his expense, Buggy’s lucky, he has nothing to worry about! followed by laughter. They always said things like that, figuring he didn’t hear them. Their voices often carried through the tent.

Assholes, all of them.

He was done hours later and the last one to leave. His home was the tent, wherever it went, but some nights he needed to get away. A walk around the town would be nice. The circus was never around in a town for too long, a few weeks at most, before packing up and leaving to the next one. He could always stay behind, Buggy knew that; he was young enough to start a new career. At just 22 he had his whole life ahead of him, but his heart was in the tent. He couldn’t leave it, not ever.

He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on before heading off the grounds and into the night. The town had seemed quiet so far, a nice change from some of the rowdier places they had been. 

It was nice to take some time to think without the noise of the crowds, of the performers, just to be by himself without anyone else around. 

Except he walked past a Marine after ducking down an alleyway, one who was much bigger than Buggy, who stopped in front of him and blocked his path with a drunken grin. He leaned forward, using the corner of the building for balance as he looked Buggy up and down. Buggy could smell the alcohol on his breath and grimaced.

“Is the circus in town?” The Marine laughed. “Can you do any tricks, jester?”

Buggy hesitated for a moment. If he fought back, he’d be thrown in jail and no one would bail him out, so it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he stepped around him, choosing to ignore him, but there was another one waiting.

“Wow, you found a funny lookin’ clown!” The other Marine chuckled as he reached up to touch Buggy’s hair. “This a wig?”

“You forgot to take your nose off!” The first Marine added with a laugh. Buggy took a step back, the urge to fight growing though the little voice inside him said don’t, not worth it, but it was so hard to not give in. He wanted so badly to fight back but what would be the use? The two started to crowd him, taking up his space, and before Buggy could scream at them to back off, a hand was on his shoulder. It wasn’t one of the Marines, the touch was too warm, too gentle, and when he turned to see the visitor, his voice was caught in his throat.

The first thing he noticed was your hair, white as snow, cropped above your shoulders with barrettes keeping your hair out of your face. Hazel eyes shining bright in the darkness and for a moment Buggy thought maybe he saw the stars reflected in them. You were shorter than Buggy by a few inches, he had to look down at you to see your face.  You tugged him close to you, keeping your hand on his shoulder as you smiled at the two drunks. “Sorry I’m late! We need to get going if we want to make our dinner reservation.”

“Wait-”

The two Marines tried to step in to stop but with a flick of your wrist they both went still before turning and marching in the direction Buggy came from. He stared in shock as they marched, invisible strings controlling their actions. You gave his shoulder a squeeze, catching his attention. He turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for just a moment before he looked away.

“Let me drop you off at home. I want to make sure you’re safe.” You said with a smile. “Can I hold your hand?”

“Can you- what? Why?!” He demanded, unconsciously reaching for your hand. You grasped it in yours, the warmth was still there and he was glad it was dark so you didn't see his red cheeks. You pulled him closer, glancing behind him before grinning.

“I'm being followed. This will be faster.” You said as you took his other hand in yours. “I hope you're not afraid of heights.”

“Afraid of heights?” He repeated, confused.

Before Buggy could register what you said, you held both of his hands and jumped up, bringing him along. There was a noise below, a crash of shadows and men with swords and axes, all matter of weapons, attacking where you both just were. He was in the air. Not quite flying, but you started moving your legs, strolling along as though normal. His legs wouldn't move, he had them tucked up against his body, suddenly terrified that if he even thought of relaxing he'd fall to the darkness below.

“I got you, don't worry.” You assured him kindly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Relax and walk. You're safe with me.”

“I'm not scared!” Buggy snapped at you as he forced his legs to start moving, stretching them out below and trying to make them walk. You chuckled, leading him in the direction of the red and white striped circus tent.

“I didn't say you were.” 

He glared at you, huffing in annoyance as the two of you gradually drifted downwards to the ground. The lights around the tent were still off, no one else was awake. He wasn't gone that long, but between walking, the Marines, and then you helping him made him drop to his knees in exhaustion once you touched the ground. He felt like he ran a marathon with how wobbly he felt. Was it just adrenaline? He wasn't scared. Buggy didn't get scared. But maybe just keeping up with you in the air, trying to make sure neither of you fell to the ground, tired him out faster than he expected.

Your hand was on his shoulder once again, giving a gentle squeeze. He looked up at you, scowling once more. Why were you sticking around? Were you expecting payment? He didn't ask for help, he would have been fine without you. 

“Go get some rest.” You said as you pulled your hand away, the warmth gone from Buggy's shoulder now, already something he was missing. He wanted to at least ask your name, just so he knew if you were coming later to demand any kind of payment or favors later then he could be sure he was ‘off site'. 

Buggy finally got to his feet and you were gone, walking off into the night, someone he wouldn't see again. The kindness you showed him in that moment stuck with him as he headed into the tent. All you did was help him, ask to touch him, which was more than anyone else in his life had done. The only other person to treat him like that was the former ringmaster, dead now six years and Buggy hadn't had someone smile kindly to him since then. Until you, that is.

The tent was quiet, the lights off, save for one lantern lit in the middle of the ring. He knew he blew them all out before leaving, but maybe one didn't stay out. Shaking his head, he approached the middle and picked the lantern up, opening the little glass door as he readied to blow it out.

“So, who's your friend?” A voice asked, low with a hint of amusement. Buggy jumped, nearly dropping the lantern as his head turned to see who spoke. At the entrance of the ring was a woman, around his age maybe, who was leaning on a mace with a grin on her face. 

“Circus is closed.” Buggy told her, straightening up and trying to sound authoritative despite his voice wavering. “First show tomorrow starts at four. You can come back then.”

She laughed as she lifted her weapon up, resting it against her shoulder as she approached Buggy. When she got close enough, her hand extended out towards his face, he took a step back. He didn't know who this was, why she was in the tent, but he didn't like it one bit. 

“The circus is-is closed, you need to leave.” He insisted. She just smiled at him and took another step forward, palm open and against his cheek suddenly. Buggy thought he was dunked in ice water, the feeling of her hand against his face was nothing like the hand on his shoulder minutes ago. There was no warmth, no gentle touch, and he felt himself start to panic. 

“You're telling me to leave?” She asked with a smile. “Sweetie, don't you know who I am?”

“No, and I don't care!” Buggy snapped as he jerked away from her. “You need to take your weapon and leave now!”

It wasn't working. She just shook her head and patted him on the cheek. “That's no way to speak to Alvida, the Witch of the Waste, sweetie.”

Witch of the What?

“Lady, I don't know who you are, so take your weapon and get out! You're not welcome!” Buggy told her. “Get the hell out, you nobody!”

“Nobody?” The faux friendliness vanished, she was no longer smiling. She let the handle of the mace slide through her hand, the heavy head of the weapon striking the ground with a thud, causing Buggy to jump. Her free hand went into the pocket of her jacket. “Oh, sweetie, that wasn’t very nice.” 

Before Buggy could respond, she pulled her hand out of her pocket, fist clenched tightly until she held it up to her mouth, relaxing her hand before blowing. Sparkly pink dust hit Buggy in the face and he coughed, waving his hand in front of his face as he tried to waft it away. What just happened? He managed to open his eyes, squinting through the sparkles, as Alvida smirked at him.

“Good luck telling anyone what happened to you, sweetie.” She said as she lifted her weapon back up. “No one will know.” Resting it against her shoulder, she turned to head out of the ring. “Oh, and tell that pirate Shore that I’m looking for them.”

“Sho-Shore?” Buggy coughed. “Who the hell is that?”

“You know who it is.”

She left with that, leaving Buggy alone. Shaking his head, he collected the lantern and headed to his room. Whatever was in those sparkles made him feel tired, his body ached a little and he couldn’t help but hunch a bit. Maybe it was that… other person, maybe they did something too. Coughing, Buggy rubbed his arm before heading to his room. Maybe a good night’s sleep will help him forget what happened tonight.

[desultory-novice]

Magalor gets the crown but neither turns on the main cast or gets controlled instantly and just kinda leaves.

(Bonus points if he gradually gets controlled, taking such a long time (like a couple months - a couple years) that people can see it happening but just can't stop it and have to watch it happen no I'm not copying adventure time)

Since you said Magolor left Kirby and the others alone, I'm afraid you'll have to deal with a Marx and Marxolor-heavy version of this prompt! (I sure hope you're one of my readers who either likes or doesn't mind some shipping between them, Anon! >w< )

I originally wrote this as a script to maybe comic-ify before I realized it was way too long and quickly transformed it into a prose piece!

"False King's Lament" Pairing: Marxolor Genre: Angst Words: 1,000 Warnings: Uh...they kiss briefly...?

[Read More]

A breezy question, spoken almost out of boredom, echoed with unexpected weight throughout the room. 

"How long you gonna keep wearing that?"

The wizard king turned in the direction of the voice: it came from his court jester, who spoke to him upside down, being in the middle of a series of complex acrobatic exercises. 

The jester was the only member of his court. For theirs was a kingdom of two.

"...Wearing what?"

"The big glittery crown on your head, your majesty."

They tried to invite others to join in their kingdom of laughter and good times. Most refused with looks of disgust or terror. Some took up weapons. Some simply ran. Of course, together the two of them had the ability to force anyone they wanted to stay, but after a time, the wizard king would sigh and say their screams weren't the ones he was looking for and let them go–to the jester's disappointment.

"The Master Crown is an object of unlimited power." 

The golden diadem in question, sculpted to resemble some kind of airborne creature, like a bird or a bat or perhaps a dragon sat atop the wizard king's head. The jewel in the center, a light opalescent color that every so often looked blood red in the light, sparkled on its own, as if it somehow knew it was being spoken about. 

"Why would I ever stop wearing it?"

The jester hopped forward, deft in his comically oversized shoes.

"Uh, cause it looks dumb on you?"

The veil of majesty on the wizard king's face fell away, one gloved hand massaging away the annoyance he felt in his brow from betwixt the crown's enormous claws.

There was no more dignity there as he dropped the royal charade to sigh at his longtime friend and lifelong partner in mischief.

"Ma~rx..." Irritation rose in the last notes of that name.

The jester, unfurling his wiry wings, crossed the distance between himself and his king with a single glittering flap.

"Seriously, Magolor. You haven't taken that thing off since you came back with it. I know you like looking all important, but come on!"

Magolor noticed Marx's ever delighted smile had left his face. His own countenance was a frown.

"Once more, I have to question you why I should?"

"...Can you?" This question was softer in pitch than that which initiated this conversation. Heavier in tone.

"What was that?" Magolor feigned a fool's ignorance. It was true that his hearing was not what it had been in years past. But to say he hadn't heard the jester's question would be the kind of lie that distinguished his life before his coronation.

"Can you take it off?" 

Firmer now. Marx no longer concealed his concern.

"....Why is that a question?" Golden eyes looked around the throne room for anything else to concentrate on. (Though had it not, at one time, been built for a purpose other than ruling? Had this empty castle in his image not been made to host more than just them?)

Marx wrapped his hands–though it was only Magolor who thought of the large, monstrous claws that way–close around the two ends of his jester's cap like they were cuffs, miming his king's horns.

"It's hugging your head pre~tty tight." His violet eyes glimmered as he stuck his tongue out of a crescent smile. "Even tighter than I do!"

Magolor laughed, suddenly at ease again. "Is that it? You're jealous over a piece of headgear?" 

He lifted the small jester in his large hands; up to the brim of his scarf for a secret kiss. But as the two pulled away, Magolor saw that the mirth in Marx's expression had been only temporary. A trap to encourage Magolor to let down his guard.

"I'm being serious for once."

Magolor absentmindedly bounced the jester from hand to hand as a distraction, Marx nimbly skipping and twirling along the stairs of the other's fingers in their little lover's game.

"Whatever you're worried about, don't be. I've spent years researching the Master Crown and its power."

The last two words came out with crushing force. "...I'm fine."

"Great!" Marx stopped, smiled, and hooked one hand on a white gloved finger, orbiting it like a trapeze artist to fling himself up on top of Magolor's head. "Then you'll be fine without it too!"

"...Marx, just let it go." Magolor wanted to crane back to pull him off but knew that he would not be able to turn his head to his satisfaction. He instead swatted uselessly at the air behind him.

"No, I won't." A once soft voice hissed with anger and determination. "Not until I get this creepy thing off your head, Mags."

Magolor's blind grasps grew quicker and more panicked. Marx stretched his wings to their full span and slipped the tips of his bony claws under the thick golden ones that wrapped crushingly close around the head and horns of his lover. 

The fake royal finally let the old weakness and helplessness of his former life slip through the cracks in his voice as he began to shout, "Don't! Don't tou-...!" Then, Marx began to pry at it.

"...Ngh!" Magolor groaned, feeling his head simultaneously forced up and pressed down by Marx's determined efforts to de-crown him. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Yet. Still, he cried Marx's name through tight lips, pleading with him to stop before...

His howl of excruciating pain echoed through the room, bounding across every wall like a wounded animal desperate to escape as Magolor violently arched back, flinging Marx off of him like a missile.

"Ugh...!" Marx rolled several times before coming to a stop against the wall. He shook his head to clear the dizziness. "Mags, what the..."

He looked up at his injured king, whose hands were tightly clutching the crown that now appeared to be wriggling atop Magolor's head like it were alive. Magolor shook and shuddered, whimpering at the angry, punitive thrumming of the crown-creature that wore him.

Marx noticed that, in the struggle, Magolor's neck wrap had fallen. His round eyes widened, irises like dots, at what he saw.

"M-Mags...?"

The jester traced the path of the crown-creature's claws with those eyes. Unlike the ones clutching his brow and hugging his horns, these trailed down a ways before they disappeared entirely into Magolor's back, where body and gold fused together.

"Are you...satisfied...now that...you know?" A glint of a golden eye found him, wavering as the light illuminated a stillborn tear.

Marx flew around immediately to face him, kneading his claws gently into Magolor's curled fingers until they unfolded once more for him to hop up into. "How long has it been like this, Mags...?"

"I don't remember... Right after I put it on? Months later?"

Anger boiled over in Marx to the degree that he no longer knew where to direct it. "How do you not remember when this thing suddenly began crawling over your head and growing into your back?! How did you study it for years and not realize it wasn't a stupid crown at all but some sort of...messed up monster?! Do you even HAVE limitless power?! Then use it and get rid of it! Blow it up or take it off or whatever you have to do! You CAN do that, right?" 

The lying wizard ducked his head in shame; he did not want to lie.

"...What's it doing to you Mags...? What's it going to do?"

The jester, who in a moment had forgotten forever how to laugh, looked at his liege, his fellow trickster, and his love as the other opened lips split in a most unnatural way. "...I don't know..."

-

[qiqinal]

Ok fine I'm gonna share my head cannons for Bitterban/Jesterban

Bittergiggle will often give banban the queen treatment while Banban is confused about it but treats Bittergiggle very nicely just confused on why Bittergiggle treats him like royalty this is because being a jester trying to make the queen laugh and take care of her influences him to treat his lover like that.

When sleeping Banban is always the small spoon due to his size while Bittergiggle is the big spoon but sometimes Banban tells Bittergiggle he wants to be the big spoon, Bittergiggle let's him be the big spoon however it looks funny because the height difference makes it hard to take it seriously.

Banban understands that Bittergiggle cannot control himself because Banban was once in that situation (and probably still is) not able to control himself due to his instincts while Bittergiggle has something similar except it's not that serious, but Banban still accepts him no matter what because he was in that same situation (it's about Bittergiggle not able to control his stupid decisions btw!)

Bittergiggle sometimes accidentally calls Uthman,"Banban" and tries his best to fix that and calls him Uthman however if someone elses does dead name Uthman (Sir dadadoo) he would be very angry and correct them.

Knowing the depressed Banban is, Bittergiggle will always be there comforting Banban and make jokes to make him feel better and Banban laughs at his jokes even if they're not funny, he will support him no matter what.

Bittergiggle is protective towards Banban, he is aware other mascots are very aggressive and some do not like him and Banban might be able to protect himself but most of the time he isn't, he can sometimes completely take control over his instincts but that is very difficult for him to immediately take control so Bittergiggle is beside him paying attention to his surroundings.

Everytime Bittergiggle is having a panic attack thinking about the mistakes he's done Banban will comfort him by caressing his head and telling him "everything is ok, you are worth it" and ending cuddling together for some minutes.

Bittergiggle lifts Banban up to smooch him, the embarrassed Banban blushes and smooches him back :3

Bittergiggle draws sometimes and Banban joins him even though they aren't good artists they will spend time together and have fun and they draw each other.

Banban monologues a lot and Bittergiggle may not be paying attention but he loves listening to his soothing voice.

Last one : every time Bittergiggle and Banban go to the theaters and ask for one large popcorn they always touch hands when trying to get popcorn and get embarrassed

[estro-gem]

Zooble x Pomni (Platonic): Build the bridge to burn another.

Author's note:

Friends! Friends friends friendsfriendsfriendsfri-

Okay, now that that's out of my system, I present to you; probably the most unpopular pairing to exist in this fandom! In this AU, I've always seen them being very good friends that will insult each other to their hearts content. Neither backing down or holding back and definitely no false pretension.

I might be one of the few who supports this pairing. Zooble has no time for bulsh*t and Pomni is continuously losing her sh*t.

It's perfect, I tell you, PERFECT👌

And finally, Caine is mentioned in more than two sentences. I'm not going to go beyond what I'm about to say: It's a slow start. Interpret it any way you want. :)

That is all.

Warnings:

Not recommended for minors or readers that are sensitive about mental illness, psychotic episodes and existentialism. This story also contains ANGST:

Psychotic episodes

Dissociation

Depressive episodes

Suicidal thoughts

Triggers

Foul/suggestive language.

Fun fact: I almost sent myself down a very dark, familiar hole while writing about Pomni's mindset. I'm ok, though!

SUMMARY:

Pomni is having a hard time after an interesting and revealing conversation she had with Caine. To make matters worse, the jester is pushed to her limit by Zooble's shameless, apathetic mannerisms. She would never understand why they suddenly wouldn't leave her alone, after weeks of receiving the cold shoulder.

BUILD THE BRIDGE TO BURN ANOTHER

Pomni was frozen in place as she desperately tried to wrap her head around the situation that she found herself in.

It was a tough morning leading up to this point, having had little-to-no sleep the night before. It was odd; everyone kept telling her that she technically didn’t need sleep and sustenance, but she felt tired. She was exhausted to say the least. It came to a point where her new life was just floating by with each passing moment, as if she was a mere spectator.

At least, it made things easier to move along, only to start off with the next thing.

The night before, Caine, the ringmaster himself, pulled Pomni aside. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the fact that he looked like a pair of glass eyes that were accidentally misplaced in a set of dentures, but beyond that; he had thoughts and opinions, like a human had. It was hard to believe that he was one of the few individuals that she interacted with daily, that weren’t human, but advanced A.I.

While it was miracle, he was horrifying, like a monster from an episode of Courage the Cowardly Dog.

How did she recall a television show, but not her own name?

“Pomni! How is our newest member of The Amazing Digital Circus adjusting to her brand-new life in the Digital Plain?” He enthusiastically spoke, like the showman he was programmed to be.

“Uh…” poorly.

There was no question about it; she was adjusting poorly, but she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, “I’m alive… I guess?”

“Why wouldn’t you know… you are right!” Caine triumphantly bellowed, before leaning in too close for the jester’s comfort, “At this rate, you just might beat the record of characters who held out the longest without dying when they first arrived.”

“Wait a minute!” the fool interrupted him just before he could say anything else, “We can die here? Like, pushing up daisies? Final breath and all?”

“Of course, you can! Once your health bar runs empty, you die.” Caine said with an inappropriate amount of chipper.

Pomni felt something foreign rise withing her chest. It felt like hope, with an overwhelming, bitter aftertaste of mind-numbing dread. She found her mind darting to a very dark place – a place she never thought to find herself in. If death was an outcome in this world… and others have died before her…

Did she find an escape, after all?

“Don’t look so disturbed, my dear.” Caine’s light pat on her shoulder ripped her back into reality, as his touch, although artificial, left her flinching into herself. He seemingly paid her reaction no mind. “It will only be a for a few moments! After that, you will respawn and stumble your way back into the position you were before you died – or well, sometimes you’ll respawn a few feet away from that position, but my point still stands!”

The foreign feeling within Pomni instantly dissipated into a bland numbness. Of course, there was a respawn mechanic; how could she ever believe otherwise? In her excitement, she didn’t even consider the logistics of the other characters still being there. Caine’s statement about ‘’holding out for the longest’ suddenly made more sense, but she didn’t like that it did.

There truly was no escape from The Amazing Digital Circus.

Caine’s interrogative questions didn’t end there, but she couldn’t remember much anyway. She vaguely remembered that the ringmaster asked her if her room was to her liking and if she had made any friends so far. His questions were interluded with a monologue following each short answer she gave. She was sure to answer whatever it took to get away and hide in her room as soon as possible.

As it came to be, the jester soon realized that it was foolish for her to have thought that she would be able to keep up a normative façade for that long.

It was an effort to swim through the stale molasses that her mind had become in such a short time.

At one point, she didn’t bother responding, but for a moment, something had her believe that Caine’s tone eventually lost its enthusiasm and greatly decreased in volume. Maybe, at one point, he just stared at her with some unseen form of disdain, but she wouldn’t know – she was too far withing the depths of her mind’s molasses; drowning.

Drowning with the inability to die, forever preserved in the heavy sludge.

Unable to swim up for air. Unable to degrade into the depths.

And yet…

Caine somehow managed to pull her back for brief moments that were long enough for her to have a series of small, fleeting, but coherent thoughts. It was ironic that the showman managed to gain the most attention when growing silent and unenthused. If Pomni had known any better, she would believe that he was being empathetic; helplessly dragged down by the jester’s empty husk that simply chose to stare back at him.

But Pomni did know better.

The ringmaster was probably programmed with a series of reactions and animations in response to people not following the prompt that he gave. She didn’t care at the time, and she doesn’t care now. An A.I. couldn’t feel anything… and at that moment, Pomni hated the fact that she could empathize with Caine too.

She couldn’t feel anything.

SHE COULDN’T FEEL ANYTHING.

It took a moment for Pomni to realize, but Caine was suddenly gone. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but she found herself alone in the uncomfortably large common area. It should have been unnerving just how quiet it suddenly was, but the numbness clung to damper the little fool’s emotions.

She looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers before her mind could command them to do so. It was as if she was separated yet housed within her own body as a spectator. Her legs started moving, but she didn’t know or care where they were taking her. She just knew that she was moved by her body’s own tuition.

The hallway leading to their rooms slowly came into view. It was small, but a comforting feeling gently caressed Pomni’s otherwise distant heart. She was finally able to collapse in her room!

She walked down the hall with no thoughts beyond whatever came into view.

The sounds of struggling and inhuman screaming didn’t phase her too much, until her slow mind comprehended that Jax was fighting and thrashing in retaliation for being intimately intwined with the ribbons of Gangle.

The jester had never seen the smug rabbit act as he did then. He was beyond himself – as mindless as a brick – and desperate. It was unmistakable that he was desperate as he relentlessly fought and reached for the door in front of him. His pupils were blown, and his jaw was slack, causing only the tips of his teeth to gleam in a menacing taunt. The rabbit’s body was practically bulging as the limbs fought against the mighty restraints, but only able to occasionally have his claw nick the door before him.

The door was littered with deep gashes that left small trenches within the sold wood. There were splinters and wood shavings laying at the foot of the door, while long, spindling spirals sprouted from the flat surface. Additional to the craving into the wood, the profile hanging on the front of the character’s room was also assaulted.

Three ugly gashes ran down Ragatha’s face.

It was only a matter of moments before the fighting evolved into the quiet sound of panting and incomprehensible, murmured whispers.

Finally… FINALLY, the confusion sparked Pomni’s mind back into action and she was met with Gangle’s displeased reaction upon spotting her. She dragged Jax down the hall to disappear into her room, followed by Ragatha leaving her room to inspect the damage to her door as if nothing was wrong. The conversation the girls had, was only effective in highlighting two things that Pomni already knew.

Ragatha was delusional beyond help.

Pomni had enough for one day.

While sleep didn’t claim her that night, the little jester’s quiet, dark room was welcoming.

…

Morning came too soon for her liking, and while her mind was clearer than the night before, Pomni’s motivation to get up and leave the confines of her room was unfounded. She did eventually leave to find herself idly waiting in the main area, but she couldn’t understand why.

There was no aim – there was no goal.

There was no end and there was no point in anything. She never thought that she would long for the privilege to say that she would simply live until the day she died. There was no end. She would live this life day after day, for eternity, with no purpose.

It was an endless desert with no end to its borders. Only the merciless sun in the empty sky, with sand dunes that stretched into the ether of the unseen horizon. Growing taller and taller, the dunes loomed over Pomni, who was sinking into the golden sand.

It was then, when a soft voice shook her to her core, effectively ripping her out of her own mind. Pomni was left frozen in the situation she found herself in.

“You really opt to live on the edge, huh?” Zooble spoke with a bemused tone as she stood behind Pomni, with her weight shifted onto one leg.

The jester didn’t mean to, but she swung around so fast, that she lost balance and stumbled forward. She knocked into Zooble before they could react, and they both ended up sprawled out on the floor. Profusely apologizing, Pomni got to work. literally picking up the pieces of Zooble, who’s only complaint was an eyeroll. The little fool’s mind was rushed into a blind panic. She didn’t know how to comprehend the situation; if the abomination fell apart on a regular basis or if it was painful? Traumatic?

“I’m so, so sorry!” Pomni said, cringing as she held the arm and leg out to Zooble, hating how they still wriggled and resembled someone’s touch despite being severed from the body.

“Ugh, would you quit it?” the Zolo-being scoffed, “You totally ruined the vibes-”

“I know! I- I don’t know what came over me, I just lost balance and-”

“Ok, first of all…” Zooble cut off Pomni’s rambling as they stood up having been reassembled once again, “…you don’t interrupt me. You got that, pipsqueak?”

Pomni nodded, “I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m still not finished.” the colourful character interrupted again, with an annoyed, yet even tone. At that time, Pomni reluctantly kept silent as Zooble continued, “Second of all, I can’t be mad at you being a klutz when I literally fall apart every day. Forget about it. Lastly, the vibes I was referring to, was the depro schtick you got going on before. I was digging it, and you went and ruined it.”

There was a silence that stretched for a moment, as Pomni left enough room for Zooble to add whatever they wished without risking being interrupted again.

“Earth to Pomni?” The Zolo-being waved a hand in front of Pomni’s face, “You good?”

“May I speak now?” Pomni spoke without thinking – her tone a little too hostile for her own liking.

The creature huffed a laugh, “Yo, I like this! Do more of this.”

“More of what?”

“You! More of you!” Zooble shook their head while seemingly getting lost in thought, “You actually have a personality beyond ‘I’m sorry!’ and ‘Woe is me!’”

Something about what Zooble said flipped a switch in Pomni. It was an ugly switch.

Pomni felt the fright and frazzle melt into bitter distaste for Zooble’s implications. Before she could count her words, it just slipped out without warning. She noticed her surprising and unannounced sarcasm a bit too late after the words left her, “Oh geez, thank you! That’s such a thoughtful thing for a rejected arts-and-crafts project to say!”

“Wait, WHAT?” Zooble cried out like a kid in a candy store, before laughing with genuine glee, “Depressed AND sassy? Girl, where have you been?”

Pomni pushed away the urge to apologize for what she said before. Instead, she was dumbstruck with just how… happy Zooble seemed with the situation, “…What is wrong with you?”

This place was demented! These people – if she could even call them that at this point – were all insane. The jester had enough. She didn’t want to be there anymore. Things just HAD to continue in the Digital Ciircus, didn’t it? The show must go on, mustn’t it? Well, Pomni didn’t want a part in it! She just wanted to be somewhere else. She wanted to be something else.

She’s had enough.

She decisively turn on her heels and walked away to spare whatever sanity she had left. It felt good to be MAD. She had reason to be ANGRY and it felt GOOD.

“Wait, Pomni wait!” Zooble stopped her laughter to catch up on Pomni’s strides, “Where are you even going?”

“Anywhere that’s far away from all of you!”

“And you think I’m gonna pass up a chance to ditch?” Zooble walked beside Pomni, who refused to look up at her, “Why are you so triggered anyway?”

Pomni rolled her eyes when she left the tent and sighed in exasperation at the sound of Zooble hot on her tail, “Oh, am I supposed to thank you for calling my personality one dimensional?”

Pomni had no idea where she was going, but she was going somewhere.

“The ‘woe is me’ thing? You know I mentioned two things, right? So that would probably make you…” Zooble sounded much too pleased with herself for Pomni’s tolerance to stand, “…2-dimensional?”

Pomni stopped the throw Zooble a filthy look before eyeing them up and down, “You are unbelievable.”

“And you’re more chill than I thought.”

“What about me WALKING AWAY and wanting to BE ALONE, makes you think that ANY of this is ‘chill?’”

“Well, for one; you are finally done hiding behind that meek little mask of yours.” Zooble said almost accusingly, causing Pomni to stop, but not turn around to look back as Zooble continued, “You grew a pair to finally show just how DONE you are with this place.”

Pomni turned around, “What does it matter? Whether I try to be nice… whether I’m angry or sad – it doesn’t change anything! We are trapped here, and you people just go about your day singing kumbaya?”

“Who knew you’d be this spicy.” Zooble said with a taunting smirk, watching Pomni pour her heart out like it was a comedy show.

“You are insufferable!” Pomni accused, walking up to the Zolo-being and poking them harshly in the chest to emphasize her point. When Zooble didn’t react, she growled and walked off as she did before. She still didn’t know where she was going, but she was too overwhelmed to stop.

Stubborn, as always.

Much to her demise, the character walked after her, unbothered and silent, as if they were simply enjoying a stroll in the green, rolling hills. The jester didn’t bother looking back again. There was no way to leave this realm, anyway; and she highly doubted that Caine would leave her roaming as she pleased for an indefinite amount of time. She was sure he would just summon her at will.

Until then, she would allow herself to breathe.

In any other scenario, Pomni would have allowed her thoughts to drift along the rolling hills she was walking among, but she was too distracted by her outburst. She was climbing a hill, not knowing what she would find on the other side, but she also didn’t want to stop either. Her own resilience was like a puzzle with jagged pieces for her to put together. She was driven to push through obstacle after obstacle, even though she knew – she knew – it was pointless. She was standing with the weight of the world pulling her down.

Why?

The little fool didn’t receive and answer, but she did make it to the top of the hill she was climbing. Standing under the smiling sun, Pomni looked over the vast landscape beyond her vantage point. Her eyes were spoiled with the sight of a great, but quiet lake. She couldn’t remember what real lakes looked like, or most things related to nature, but sight before her felt like a blessing to her overstimulated eyes.

The jester felt her knees buckle, so she sat down in the grass that looked too green to be realistic, while her sights trailed along the silver lining that danced along the water surface. The small waves rustled onto the generous, sandy banks - Pomni’s ears were filled with the sounds of them trickling along the edge and she found the sights and sounds drowning the desperate screeching of her racing mind.

It wasn’t a moment of quiet, but it was a moment of peace that she desperately needed.

“So… you found the lake!”

…and the peace was ruined.

“Yup.” Pomni said with a hopeless sigh, “I said I wanted to be alone. This is a big area – did you HAVE to decide to be in MY space?”

“Is it really YOUR space?” Zooble countered apathetically, “If anything, it’s Caine’s space.”

Pomni regretted ever dreading any form of silence.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand any of you.” Pomni shook her head in disbelief, “There is nothing for us here. Everything here is as endless as it is pointless.”

“Uh-huh.” Zooble stumbled beside Pomni, also fixating her eyes on the water surface.

“And yet you guys just keep… going… but you all aren’t even trying to make things tolerable for each other! You guys are a bunch of judgmental, two-faced jerks. On purpose!”

“Yeah.”

“Is that really all you have to say?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You seriously have no regard for your own self-respect?”

“No, everything you’ve said is true.”

Ponmi was struck by the statement Zooble threw to her head. Finally, there was silence, but the jester didn’t enjoy it this time. She turned to look at the abomination with shock. Zooble didn’t seem phased at all. They just kept sitting beside Pomni with a frustratingly difficult face (or lack thereof) to read.

“W- What?”

“You’re right.” Zooble simply says, “It’s torture. Not even abstraction is an out – you just get thrown into a black hole. There is no end to life here.”

The fool stayed silent as a morbid curiosity egged her on to listen. Zooble shifted meet Ponmi’s eyes as they spoke evenly.

“There is only an end to us.”

Time ticked away with the ripples of the water crashing onto the shore. The creature’s words blown into the fool, like a calm breeze. The words tumble and toss in Pomni’s mind, considering the seriousness and honesty Zooble used to deliver them. She finally understood what was meant with the statement.

While one person will live on, even after abstraction, the group will not. With someone already gone, the group that was situated had already been changed – it was no longer set. It no longer existed because someone irreplaceable was already gone.

It hurts to think like that.

“Okay.” Pomni said, glancing at the water once again, “But do you all have to act so demented? Hostile? Jax makes it his personal mission to make you guys into pin cushions. Gangle is either eerily quiet, obnoxiously giggling or crying her eyes out – no in-between. You don’t care about anyone except for Gangle, it seems? Kinger’s just… gone, until he’s not and Ragatha is so delusional about this place that she’s probably crazier than Kinger.”

“Fair enough to say that.” Zooble mused – her tone as dismissive as ever.

“Why?” Pomni pressed, eager to understand. Just a little bit of understanding would do her wonders.

“We all do what we have to do.”

Pomni sighed heavily, not at all understanding, “…Ragatha said that too. What’s with that?”

“Maybe she’s not as delusional as you thought.” Zooble jabbed back with more bite than Pomni expected. The jester reigned back a bit, while Zooble rolled their eyes at Pomni’s display.

“I doubt it,” she boldly disagreed, earning an interested look from Zooble, “…but she’s probably the only one who doesn’t hate me. It doesn’t even make sense that you would sit down to have a conversation with me while Gangle runs at the sight of me.”

“Why would Gangle’s opinion on you gatekeep whether I can hang out with you?”

“She’s your girlfriend!”

“Exactly.” Zooble states, as if hitting a nail into wood, “I’m not her parent, nor is she mine. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions, as am I. We are our own people with our own lives, we just want each other in them.”

Huh.

“So… what?” Pomni asked carefully, “Are we hanging out now, or what’s happening?”

“We chillin’, that’s it.”

They sat in a beat of silence before a wave of awkward tension built up within Pomni. It was supposed to be comfortable, she supposed, but it felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was.

“So you don’t hate me?”

“I preferred it when you were pissed.” Zooble sighed, rolling their eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day – and it was still morning, “No one hates you. We are just $%&($ terrified.”

Pomni furrowed her eyebrows, while the creature beside her reluctantly explained themself, “We lost one of our own and you just magically appeared on the same day. Can you blame someone for thinking that you seem like some type of replacement for someone who started asking too many questions? Do you know what Caine is capable of?”

Pomni shook her head as the words sunk in.

“Well…” Zooble huffed, leaning back on their palms that was planted behind them, “Welcome to the club, Harley Quin! Neither do we.”

The silence stretched longer this time. The air felt heavy, but Pomni began to see the strange method to her Circus members’ madness. She didn’t fully comprehend it all, but it felt comforting to have had the conversation – a real conversation, without hiding under false pretenses. Zooble saw her true colours – when she was at her worst.

The abomination didn’t even flinch, they went above and beyond to chase her down, delighted.

It was a relief.

Pomni huffed, leaning back onto her palms to match the posture of her new companion, “Harley Quin, huh? Was that the best you could come up with, Jumbo Blocks?”

Zooble sat up, leaning towards the jester with a mischievous sparkle in their eyes.

“Oh, it’s on, you %&@($ air balloon-cosplaying @$&@(!”

Unrestrained laughter chimed in the air as two freaks stared into the unforeseen horizon. For Pomni, the her ways of viewing her place in the circus, was ripped from beneath her feet in a single conversation. She was left on unstable ground.

Sand.

But for that small, precious moment, she was just happy to bicker with someone. They probably weren't enough to be considered friends, but they were together, sharing a space with no hidden intentions. She wasn't bothered with standing tall.

She was too short for that anyway.

Fanart kinda relevant to this story: (CLICK HERE TO SEE)

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 15: Doomsday

What happened next was, as Bowser would put it, a big clusterfuck.

Luigi never expected to see a Paper Person again -never mind a psychopath whose fashion sense should have stayed in the 16th Century.

Ironically, that was the least of his worries when the whole world literally flipped on its axis.

“LU-!“

His stomach turned when he realized that was BOWSER, and he wants to reassure him, but-

He’s alone now.

Except-

“Now then.”

That figlio di puttana-!

“Let’s get this show started!”

Mario hadn’t expected to see the Paper version of himself again, or even Paper Peach and Bowser.

He just wishes it was under better circumstances…

“Dimentio?”

Paper Peach nods, “He’s a magician we’ve met before. We thought we’d ended his game, but…”

“The idiot seems to think HE could just waltz in and 'destroy all worlds'!” Paper Bowser seems to be angrier than usual, and it gives Mario near whiplash whenever he thinks about his calmer (nowadays, anyway), fleshy counterpart. “So we're here to finish the job!”

“But why is he here?”

Mario feels something in his stomach sink when they all share a look.

“...We think he's trying to get your Luigi.”

And just like that, Mario felt like the world was ending.

"Why?!"

"I would like to hear the answer as well."

It's a near miss when Mario lashes out, feeling too overwhelmed- where's Luigi, he needs to get to Luigi- but not enough to not recognize the familiar sight of Kamek.

To his credit, the Magikoopa barely flinches as he floats on his broom.

“Kamek?!” At least everyone else was just as surprised.

"You weren't at the throne room, but I figured I could follow the sound of your shouting." His gaze seemed to sharpen, even if his eyes were hidden by his glasses. "Why is he here? And if so-"

Wait, why is he here-

"Are his abilities great enough to overpower transportation wards?"

Mario felt sick- surely he misunderstands--

The tense atmosphere says otherwise.

oH fu- "Can you take us to the castle?!"

He barely registers the confusion and surprise of the Paper versions before there was a poof-

And find themselves in the midst of mayhem.

Bowser wasn't thinking straight, but screw anyone who faults him for it!

He didn't register the newcomers as anything other than possible threats, and Mario and Peach were pushing it as they approached HIS NEST AND KIDS-

And then a wave of calm washed over him, a blue haze rolling over his scales with familiarity-

Kamek.

The world is less overwhelming, but the 'talk' that came after threatened to have his temper override the magic.

It felt like the world was ending for Bowser. Hell, their world's doomsday is technically on a countdown, if Paper Peach was to be believed.

Dimentio… a stupid, regretful name if you ask him.

And the fact that this guy kidnapped Luigi?

That the shitty jester plans to use him- have Luigi kill millions against his will? The same Luigi who Bowser watched as he cried over a smushed butterfly?

That Luigi might be somewhere alone, scared, maybe even hurt? Especially after...?

That Luigi's scared face might be the last thing he sees-?

When he finds the damned smiley fuck-

T H E R E W O N ' T B E A N Y T H I N G L E F T T O R E G R E T.

Luigi couldn’t remember- what did he do whatdidhedo-

The- jester- Dimentio- he had this heart- it won't stop beating stopbeatingSTOPBEATING-

It hurts to think about how he BrOkE hIm is breakinghim- he can't concentrate with that DaNnAtO lAuGhTeR- hAhaHaha-

GeT OUTGETOUTGET-

"It seems you are a bit more... resilient in this dimension." He hates-DESPISES that sMiLe- "Here, let me help you~."

And then, it went dark.

And Luigi couldn't help but be glad.