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#that’s one shitty part time clown

deadsetobsessions · 5 months

Text

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

#bamf danny phantom #danny phantom #dc x dp #jason todd #Jason takes him to a library and they pick out books for each other #Danny asks him on a second date and they talk about the book over coffee #and then they watch the stars (Danny uses his ghost powers to clear a patch of sky)#but Danny just kind of watches Jason’s face and goes yeah this is just as good #Danny dngasf #Danny will throw hands with a clown #Danny thinks the Gotham Rogues are kinda cute #with their gimmicks #unimpressed bc they’re kind of obvious #and he’s seen worse and better #danny is Gotham’s Mom Friend

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plutoswritingplanet · 9 months

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could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece live action #my writing #answered #requested #thank you for leaving a request <3 <3

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lovingksuki · 2 months

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✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here

wc: 1,3k

the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.

"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.

"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."

"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.

"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."

"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.

"that you have a slight cru-"

"I don't have a crush."

"admit it already."

"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."

"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"

"no."

"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.

the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.

"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.

the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.

"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.

absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"

"for what?"

"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.

"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.

you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:

"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"

"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"

"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.

"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"

and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.

"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."

"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.

"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.

"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.

"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.

"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.

"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.

"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.

when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking

kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.

when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.

watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.

that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.

"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.

"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"

"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.

"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"

"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.

"you're right." you pouted.

"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"

"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.

"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.

the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.

you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.

"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.

"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.

"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"

"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"

"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.

walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.

"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.

she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"

"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.

"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."

"wait. what the-"

"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.

the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.

"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.

"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.

when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.

"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"

katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.

"h-hey."

"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.

"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"

"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled

his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill

"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"

he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.

"deal."

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #self insert #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #my hero academia

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

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

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

Then I realized I was going about it all wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, lets talk about ending the villain arc:

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

Art

#dm tip #dm tips #writing advice #evil party #drafting the adventure #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #blades in the dark #ttprg #pathfinder

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maccaronimassacre · 6 months

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Going to a haunted house with them <3

Ada Wong

Can tell when something is about to happen moments before it does.

A slightly uneven floorboard? A prop is going to drop from the ceiling.

A small hole in the wall? A scare actor is going to jumpscare the two of you.

Would she tell you though? Absolutely not.

She finds your reactions too adorable and makes a mental note to take some pictures for later down the road.

Ada isn’t a screamer though. She’d either gasp very loudly or stiffen up like a tree.

She enjoyed it though and decides to search for more horror attractions around the area to go to with you.

Chris Redfield

You constantly had to remind him that nothing bad will happen and it’s all staged.

That doesn’t stop Chris from being over protective anyway by constantly shielding you whenever a prop would pop up to jumpscare you.

Even a sudden loud noise and Chris has his arms wrapped around you like a bear.

That is until he sees how shitty all the props and costumes are and he starts to roast them.

“Who made zombies green? Are you seeing this shit, babe? You know I used to punch through these like they were cardboard-”

He ends up rambling about how inaccurate the monsters are but overall has a good time.

Claire Redfield

Would be screaming with you most likely.

The type to spend most of it laughing out of fear but also enjoyment. Mostly fear though.

Claire would definitely hype you up if you got too freaked out and would drag you along the whole journey.

Or similarly to Chris she would be roasting the shit out of all the props in the house.

With Claire’s track record the two of you end up in a completely different part of the house that you definitely should not be in.

She tried to climb through the windows and gaps the scare actors are in.

Probably ends in the two of you getting kicked out but Claire manages to steal one of the props as a souvenir.

Ethan Winters

Considering this man looked at spider Maguerite and said “well that’s special” I feel like he wouldn’t be fazed at all.

Would also find your reactions amusing and occasionally tease you for it.

Tries to touch everything or figure out the mechanics of each room

He’d give the scare actors his iconic 500 yard stare whenever they would try to jumpscare him.

He would hold your hand through out the whole thing though.

But as soon as Ethan hears a chainsaw he is bolting and screaming like his life depends on it.

Also bugs.

And with bugs means lots of swearing.

Leon Kennedy

Would pretend to be unfazed for the most part but internally he is screaming.

He promises to protect you from the spooky ghosts and zombies.

He would tease you constantly whenever you got spooked but would immediately eat shit afterwards.

“Aww did that scare you? Honestly you wouldn't last a day at my-”

He’s immediately cut off by his own scream after someone grabs his shoulder.

Holds your hand to ‘make sure you don’t get lost by wandering off’ but really he needs you for support.

Leon really hates clowns though.

If he spots one its either getting roundhouse kicked or he’s turning around and never coming back.

#ada wong x reader #chris redfield x reader #claire redfield x reader #ethan winters x reader #leon kennedy x reader #ada wong #ethan winters #leon kennedy #chris redfield #claire redfield #resident evil

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snenbubs · 6 months

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I've made you all wait too long for this. Its an eeensy weensy bit late, BUT ITS DONE. I present to you;

HB MAMMON X GN!READER NSFW/SMUT

As previously stated, I've done afab terms bcz thats all I really know how to write! Apologies if this isn't to your taste :[

Also this is lowk rlly bad pls dont mind it, if you do like it though feel free to send an ask!! :3

NSFW Under the cut! 18+ Only!

The relationship you had with Mammon wasn't binding. There had been no written agreement, formal signing, or anything of the sorts that dedicated yourself to the demon. Aside from, of course, the one he made you sign when you had agreed to work for him; but that did not cover the basis of what had been on his mind.

No, it didn't even come close to what was on his mind, what made him writhe about idly in his seat. Leg bouncing against the thick leather chair whilst his deep chartreuse eyes glowered in the dark of his office. There he sat, alone, pen to paper as he attempted to sort through the weeks finances. His work was lit by nothing but a small, faulty lamp that flickered on and off unreliably. He'd refused to rid himself of the sickly possesion, claiming over and over again that despite its withered condition, he'd be saving money by keeping it as it was. You'd whine to him about it incessantly, pointing out the bad habit, and how it would ruin his eyes, yet nothing changed. He was a sin, anyways, so it wasn't like reading with a shitty lamp would hurt him, but he enjoyed your attention far too much to tell you that.

It was clear to tell through his demeanour that Mammon was not in the best of moods. With both his upper hands being used as a resting point for his head whilst one of his lower hands absently scrawled a pen across an endless mound of paperwork. As previously noted, however, he wasn't quite there. Practically on auto-pilot, his thoughts swirled and stormed and crashed against one another. All of his bubbling emotions however, all of his regret, and rage, and worry, surrounded one singular person: you.

You were Mammon's star. His favourite. A talented clown who not only brought him tons of revenue, but also, the only clown who actually enjoyed his shitty personality. You thought he was funny, and actively sought out his company, so it didn't take long to climb your way up the pedestal. It took even less time for things between the two of you to become more... intimate.

Which was why he was so pissed off.

Part of why, anyways.

As one of his most talented performers it wasn't unusual for venues outside of the Greed ring to request a show. Often, these high class clubs, or restaurants, would pay high fees for a glimpse of his most sought after clowns. He could never refuse these offers, after all, money was money and he was the King of Greed. So, when an offer came through from a small, upcoming club in the Lust ring, who was willing to offer a big sum of cash for a glimpse of his stars presence, including transport and accommodation, how could he say no?

Well. He'd sure learn to say no. He'd have to hold some sort restraint, when it came to you at least, and not throw you off into the midst of the clawy, grabby hands of your fans. Especially, those of Lusts origins. He wanted to throttle Asmodeus for creating such blatantly horny demons that they'd flirt and coo with any living thing, disregarding just who they may piss off in the process.

And oh, was he pissed off;

It had all occured the night before.

You were so pretty, adorned in a pristine clown outfit - which had been specially catered to Mammon's likeness. You were eager to head to head to the performance, and Mammon, keener to make a bank from your fans, waited by your side to bid you a farewell. A specialty he reserved for only you.

But, as the sleek black limousine pulled to a halt outside of his large manor, regret seemed to bubble deep within his chest. A tight, sour feeling, of disgust welled as he watched that god-awful incubus offer his hand to you. Mammon caught the way that demons eyes raked your body, filled with lust, he caught the way the demons hands lingered over yours, the sly glances he threw your way and the way he spoke in such a flirtatious tone.

What was even worse, was that you were aware of such advances, and didn't do anything to stop them!

He had no right to be feeling the way he was. You weren't his to keep or control. That he knew. Yet, adressing the wrongness of his burning anger did nothing to quell it. If anything it made it worse, because now he felt like a shitty person.

Four fingers raked across his desk with anticipation. The cold touch of wood beneath his gloved fingertips a good enough distraction from his overwhelming thoughts.

At this point, the once towering pile of clean, straightened papers that had sat beside him had moved across the desk. Now painted with his sigil and signature, creating contracts that would bind demons to him eternally. He'd be sure to regret not reading through them first later, which would just be another thing to add to his growing plate of mistakes. Right now however, he was nearing the end of his workload and was desperate to call it quits. He pressed his head further into his own palms as he continually signed his name onto paper, after paper, after paper.

Reasonably, he was upset, when three coordinated knocks rapped against the large mahogany doors which sealed his office away from the rest of his manor. He recognised the concentric nature of the knock to be that of one of his various Fizz-bots, which he had replaced all of his work staff with in the sake of saving money.

Discontented, and desiring to be alone to wallow within his own solitude, Mammon's lips curled into a snarl which showcased his rows of many, many sharp teeth. A god-awful growl reverberated through his throat. He paused his hand, yet he didn't tear his eyes away from his work.

The only issue replacing your servants with robots, is that they didn't know any social cues. Upon hearing his gutteral remark a living demon would certainly back away and give the sin his space. But, the Fizz-bot didn't quite catch onto that, and instead, took the sound as an affirmation.

The doorhandle to Mammon's office was golden, and had been intricately decorated with that of antique design. It's ochre tint glistened prettily against the thinly covered lampshade that flickered at the demons desk. This glistening however was rudely interrupted as the handle began to rattle obnoxiously, twisting a few times whilst whining and croaking in protest before finally giving way and allowing the large door to swing open.

The Fizz-bot strolled in almost too casually for the Royals liking, its lanky limbs loose at its sides. Mammon bore his fangs toward the bot, rising from his seat ready to tear the thing apart bit by bit. He hesitated however, when it spoke out to him;

"(Y/N) has returned." Rasped out its monotonous voice. At its words, Mammon's demeanour calmed, he resisted in attacking the poor bot and instead opted to to glare at it.

"What?" Came his thick Aussie accent, laced with interest as he now decided his work could wait until later. He leaned forward, the tinkling of his bells signalling his movement.

The Fizz-bot stood still for some moments before repeating its original statement; "(Y/N) has returned," it cocked its pale face to the side curiously for some moments. "In the lobby, with limousine driver--"

The poor bot didn't have a chance to finish its sentence. The moment it had mentioned that fucking limousine driver, Mammon had shoved his entire desk to the side and began marching forward. The Fizz-bot, who had been in his way, how decended to the floor in two sparking pieces of metal, fabric and silicone.

He left his office in a flurry, storming down the expansive, winding corridors of his manor with little to no care for the priceless items that lined its corridors. Fizz-bots would have to dive out of his way or else face becoming a mutilated mess such as the one that had unfortunately gone to his office to inform him of your return.

Usually, it took a long while to traverse the halls of his manor, for it was large, and he was never in any rush to be somewhere. Yet, he knew you were alone with that horrible incubus and that alone was enough to make him move faster than he needed to, and so he made it to his location in almost minutes.

The double doors which blocked him from the lobby were thrown open, a loud clang echoing through the grand enterance which signalled his arrival.

The lobby was a fancy room, grand in its size as it was its decor; the opening doors, lined with real gold, were surrounded with authentic stained glass, depicting Mammon and his... many charitable acts that definitely did happen. Across from the door was a grand staircase, split into two with a balcony at the centre wich looked over entire ensemble. That was where Mammon stood, towering over the room like a king to his subjects, the subjects being you, and that shitty incubus who spoke to you. He watched with narrow eyes, as you laughed at the demons words, clinging to each sentence so endearingly that you hadn't even noticed his overbearing presence. Mammon liked the way you looked when you laughed, and he found that the demon you were offering such a look to was not worthy of laying his gaze on such a sight.

Bolts of lightning surrounded his figure, glooms of green began to seep the surface of the balcony and in the blink of an eye Mammon had been enveloped in a cloud of flashing sage and jade, dissapating from the balcony and reforming in another flared pall.

"(N/N)!" His voice cooed out, tone now sweeter than before as be put forth a joyous persona as to not give way the fact that he had been brooding over this situation just moments beforehand. "How is my favourite clown doing this fine afternoon? Did the show go well? I bet it did, people love you!"

You cast your cheery gaze onto Mammon, now distracted from the limousine guy as the tall green Sin slung an arm across your shoulder, practically draping his body across yours.

"Oh, Mammon! Yes, it did go well." You adressed him accordinly, a wide smile etched into your lips which gave-way the results of your performance which had happened the night before. "Actually, we we're just-"

"We we're just talking about how they should totally come back and perform for us again."

You had been cut off by a sultry, breathy voice, that of the incubus who was stood opposite with a cocky grin across his sharp-toothed face. Mammon was not pleased with the demons interruption, and, by the way your smile faltered, threatening to slip to that of a frown, he could tell you were not pleased either.

"Hi, my name is--"

"I don't care." Mammon clipped back at the demon, happy-go-lucky persona now melding to that of his buried anger. He gave the guy a snarled expression, unhappy with his disrespect toward Mammon's sinfulness.

The incubus' brow furrowed, eyes clocking into a look of confusion. "Okay... rude much," He placed a hand on his hip, "As I was saying..."

Mammon took his arm away from your figure, not missing the way your body leant into his touch as he retreated. He opted instead to pull himself up to full height, glaring down at the demon dangerously. It was at this point the incubus began to cower backward, tail between his legs with knees threatening to buckle underneath his own weight. Mammon growled again, this time louder;

"They will not be going back to that shit-hole of a joint, d'ya hear me?" He leant in closer to the demon, who was now nodding his head profusely in complete understanding to the bigger, more powerful demons commands. Mammon remained quiet for a few moments, before huffing. "You can fuck right off, I don't like you. Get back to your limousine, cunt."

He didn't have to tell the incubus a second time, for the second he finished his utterance the pink-ish skinned creature was scurrying backward as fast as his hooved feet could take him.

As he watched the demon leave, Mammon hesitated for a moment, afraid to turn around and meet your gaze. He had... vastly, overreacted to a situation that could have been handled with ease. Yet it just pissed Mammon off how the fuckwad, so full of himself, never gave you a moment to preach.

The Sin stood languidly for a few moments, before a huff of relief soundes from behind him. He turned his head to gaze at you, watching as you chuckled nervously, fret filling your stance. He was unsure of what to say.

"Oh my god," You began, deciding after a moments silence between the two of you to plafe your input. "I'm so glad he's gone, he was so invasive, and annoying." You made a gagging motion, hoping to put a smile onto the big jesters face.

Clearly, it worked, his first gaze softened on your form before morphing into that of a big, charming grin. "Right?" He cackled, striding over to your side once more to place a hand atop of your head, roughing you up cheekily. "Honestly, I felt so bad leavin' you with him yesterday, worried you'd kill yourself from boredom." It was a complete lie, but he wasn't about to let you know he had convinced himself you wanted to fuck the demon, and had let himself get all pissy over it.

"God, I thought I was too." You rolled your eyes at the memory, having to sit in the small limousine for a whole ride through the Greed ring, with an elevator stop, then another ride through the Lust ring, all while he yapped on about how cool he was. You shuddered.

"I'll do another show there, though, the audience was great. I'll get one of the Fizz-bots to sort it out." You yawned as you spoke, tiredly rubbing a fist against an eye. You began to head to the grand staircase, intent to head to your luxurious room and collapse against the plush bed Mammon had bought specially for you.

The great Sin followed behind close at your heel, so omnipotent that his shadow cast over you ominously. "Well actually," He began, tone now turning to that of something more formal. You knew that voice all too well, he was about to push forth a business proposal. "I don't think you should do shows in Lust anymore."

At first, you were ready to groan. To shun him out and tell him that his ideas could wait until the morning. However, his words brought you to a firm halt, stood still half-way up the golden lined staircase. You turned to face the jester with a cocked brow, expression not near enough to showcase the confusion you felt, which was only pushed further once you saw the state Mammon was in: fidgety, and odd. He wrung his top set of gloved hands together, and occupied the bottom two with the fabrics of his clothes. He kept his gaze low. From this, you could gather no source of his intent, only that he was anxious. A state you had only seen of him once or twice in all the years you had worked under his watchful eye.

"But Lust is where I get most of my revinue from," With a soft, lighthearted tone you chose to remind Mammon of your worth, mentally praying that he was not firing you, and instead had a secret promotion up his well decorated sleeve. "If I stop doing shows there I'll be one of your least sought after clowns."

Mammon felt your cold, petrifying gaze on his figure. He lifted his gaze from the floor, but rather than looking at you, he directed it somewhere else - across the room, where a rather interesting portrait of he and Lucifer sat. "Well, it's always good for a change once in a while, aye? Besides, you're a star, (N/N). No matter the ring."

You continued to gaze at him narrowly. "I don't... understand?" Was all you could seemingly muster out.

Once more, Mammon remained silent, hesitating to speak the truth. "I just, don't think you should do shows there 'nymore. I don't like the way they treat you." He twiddled his fingers together idly.

You took a moment to process what he had said, mind running amock with the thoughts of why he was making such a rash decision; he didn't appear to be firing you, simply moving where you performed your shows. It was an unnecessary edit, all because he 'didn't like the way they treated you'? You considered the phrase for some time, before it finally clicked in your head. Once it had, a wide, sly smile spread across your cheeks.

"Oh, really, why?" You spoke coyly, lowering your lids provocatively as you lowered yourself a step closer to Mammon so that the space between the two of you had been eliminated completely. "I don't mind the way they treat me."

He gazed down at you unblinkingly. "Well I don't, and my word is final-"

"Why~?" You cocked your head to the side, smirk only growing in size as he stuttered backward on his words. Letting out a faux gasp, you continued; "Oh, Mam, you aren't... jealous, are you?"

His face flushed, a dead give-away to his true feelings. Your smirk only widened at this. "N--No, I'm not, it just makes me uncomfortable, how much they wanna fuck you-"

You let out a sarcastic chortle, placing a hand to your chest. "You so fucking are! You're jealous!"

Mammon remained quiet on the matter, keeping his head turned away as to not face embarassment of admitting to such a defeat. He was jealous, he was so fucking jealous, ever since he had watched you leave that night beforehand it had burnt deep within the pits of his core, every inch of scathing grump he had boiled down to work stress was because of you. He huffed. His refusal to answer was enough in itself, and so, you chose to now offer a hand of rapport and sympathy;

"If its any consolation," You started, now averting your gaze from his larger form. A show of embarassment, as your cheeks flushed hottly. Mammon, through the corner of his eye, caught onto this. It interested him greatly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you last night."

Now he looked at you. "Really?" Came a rushed response, he was surprised at his own eagerness to hear such input. This, of course, was a state he had been reduced to many a time. Desperately greedy for the attention you were willing to offer him.

"Yeah," You started once more. Though your gaze was not on him, you could sense his close presence, evading your space as each second passed. Not that you minded, his warm figure had always been a guilty pleasure. "I don't like being alone, you know that. I missed you, I wished you could have been there."

It was no surprise that when you returned to look at him, you found his face only inches away from yours. His hot breath fanned against your face in bursts, and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and plant a sweet kiss to his lips.

It was his turn to be cocky now, with eyelids coated in thick eyeliner lowered egotistically. "That why you're here so early, aye? Wanted to see me?" His eyes motioned to a large, fancybclock which sat against the wall at the very top of the grand staircase, it tattled of your earliness; three hours early to be exact, you had been eager to see Mammon.

"I want more than that." You pressed your forehead against his, sly smirk now returning as you regained some semblance of confidence.

For a moment, the two of you stood, head-to-head, pressed closely together as you basked in the comfort of each others presence. Eventually, however, Mammon retracted himself, standing at full height and grinning evilly at the whine you let out at the loss of contact.

"And what is it you want from me, (N/N)?" You wanted to murder the bastard for his overgrown confidence, stood below him with your arms crossed over your chest and cheeks puffed out angstily. He wanted you to say it outright. He always did; he wanted you to profess how badly you wanted and needed him. Stroke his ego and reap the rewards.

With a short blow of air from your nostrils, you caved in. Deciding that if it meant getting to be shoved hard into a mattress for the evening then you could deal with his arrogance in the morning.

"Mammon," You cooed out softly. You took a moment to bend your knees, and jump up onto him. He caught you in his arms reflexively, holding you close to him allowing you to lean close to his ear. "I want you, to fuck me."

And you didn't have to tell him twice.

The tinkling of bells was all that could be heard echoing through the halls of Mammon's large, lonely manor. He held you close in his arms, and moved quickly. Quicker than you had seen him move that one time one of his Fizz-bots had dropped a bag of money on the street. There were so many deaths.

As previously stated, it would have taken a while to traverse the lond and winding halls of his manor, but, now fixated on a new desire to have you all to himself, he made it to his extravagant bedroom in moments.

His room was large, lined with accents of gold, black and green; at the centre, was your destination. A large bed, fit for that of royalty, with plush sheets and pillows significantly larger than your small Hellborn figure, as they had been made for Mammon, who was taller and more substantial than anything you had ever seen. The bed was lined with curtains of thick green-ish grey webbing, which, as you were thrown to the centre of the bed, concealed you from the rest of the room.

Mammon threw you to the bed almost carelessly, lost in a haze of need. You bounced against the expensive mattress, laying amonst the pillows and such that had been strewn across his bed lazily. The larger demon loomed over you ominously, casting his gaze down upon you and bathing your body in a light chartreuse glow.

"You have no bloody idea how much I hated letting you go off with that fuckin' prick." He almost growled, placing his forehead against yours once more. An act of intimacy you found greatly comforting. A set of his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer beneath him so that you were flush to his body.

You let out a soft chuckle, bringing a hand up to flick a bell at the end of his coxcomb. "God," You huffed, now bringing your hands to wrap around his neck. "You're such a big oaf." You we're lucky to be so important to him, otherwise he would have had you punished for such an insult.

Instead, he simply huffed. Content to let you bully him so long as you just stayed so, so close to him. He relished the warmth of your presence for a few moments, simply content to have you with him, but it didn't take long for him to begin craving more.

He brought his lips to yours and pulled you closer toward him, if that was even possible at this point. He keenly pressed hungrily sweet kisses to your mouth, which you returned with an equally as needy fervour. Soon enough, his forked tongue was tangled with that of your own as he took every inch of your mouth as his own. The sides of your hips stung from where Mammon held you, his claws digging into that of your clown costume and probably ruining it for future use. Such a thought was long forgotten however, in the heat of the moment. From how close the demon held you to his body, you could feel the hardened tent in his pants, which only egged you on further.

Cautiously and almost tauntingly, you raised your hips toward his in a slow roll. Grinding against his clothed erection with a pert demeanour.

At the sudden contact, Mammon let out a short whine. His grip against your hips tightened impossibly, using the hold he had on you to unfortunately pull away. His tongue left your mouth with a string of drool, which left you midly grossed out but also extremely turned on.

You frowned; "Hey!" Was all you coulf muster out, a cocky remark to distract yourself from the building heat that had settled between your legs. In all truth, you weren't going to complain for you knew whatever Mammon was to do with you, it would be amazing.

Mammon eyed you up and down, his eyes filled with that of awe and desire. "Enough teasing," He started, finally removing his hands from your hips and instead focussing all four onto the task of undoing your complex clown outfit. "I want that stunner cunt of yours, I've had a rough day."

You let out a short laugh at the demons half assed excuse for being so demanding. "Anything for you, Mam." Was your obedient response, and you took to helping him unfasten the outfit. He was pleased with your compliance, if the grin on his face was anything to go by.

Soon enough, your clothes had been thrown astrew somewhere across the bed, lost in a sea of webbing and you sat in the nude, vulnerable beneath the Sin. You did not shy away however, not like you had the first time you had found yourself in such a situation with Mammon. No. Now you lay confidently in your berth, for you knew he adored you in all your demonic body.

And adore he would do.

With a pair of hands and your hips holding you in place, Mammon brought his second pair to pry your legs apart. An action which you allowed with relative ease. At this point you were an eager mess, biting your lip with anticipation to the sensations he would offer. The burning heat at your very core sparked ebbing embers of need and want which only increased as you watched Mammon lower his head between your legs.

Your hips bucked with anticipation, moving your hands to rest atop of his green coxcomb and gently egg him on. He chuckled darkly at your impatient attitude. It was with that, that he decided to finally ease you of your yearning, and so, with his forked tongue, he licked a long stripe across your enterance.

At the sudden contact, a breathless gasp slipped past your lips. Mammon paused for just a moment to relish in the sound you had let out, a sound he knew only he was able to bring from you.

"Fuck," He growled out, looking up at you from between your legs. A position only you could force him into. "You've got one hell of a cunt, you know that? I could get drunk off of you." The comment made heat rush to the edges of your cheeks, but you did not have long to fawn over his sudden comment for within moments he delved back down between your legs.

You were inclined to believe him when he claimed to get drunk off of you, because Mammon ate like a man starved. With hands gripping at your thighs and hips he had himself pressed flush against you, as far as he could so that he could greedily and hungrily lap at you over and over. You were glad he was a Sin and could not die, for if any normal demon did this you were sure they'd surely suffocate.

With his repititive, almost frantic motions, all you could do was pant and whine, hands gripping his coxcomb so tight your knuckles began to throb with pain. It was different, from being fucked, this brought forth a different kind of rapture; waves of pleasure rolled through your core, you felt a familiar coil bubble through your midriff, tightening and tightening the more Mammon continued.

Mammon took note of each sound you made, listening intently to the ways in which you gasped and mewled beneath him. If he found a sound he liked the most, such as when you'd utter his name in a strangled moan, he'd work twice as hard just to hear you do it again. Plunging his tongue even deeper within you, ravenous for the way you made him feel.

"Oh-- Mammon!" You cried, voice audibly cracking when one of his hands gently caressed across your thigh and moved down to play at your clitoris. Such an action, combined with the etches of his tongue deep within your cavern, tasting and devouring every inch of you for himself pushed the bubbles within your core to the very edge. You pushed his head further down. "I--I'm close.. ah! Please!"

Mammon was not one to deny you of your wishes.

For a moment, he paused his actions. Retracting his tongue slowly to hear the loud growl of protest you'd let out, but, within moments he delved back in; circling your clit with his thumb and fucking you thoroughly with his tongue.

It was this action that pushed you over the very edge, snapping the coil in your core suddenly. You threw your head backward as Mammon fucked you through your orgasm, white clouding your vision whilst waves of pleasure shot through your system. Your legs twitched from overstimulation.

After a few moments, you felt Mammon's long tongue leave your body. You lay dizzily against the bedsheets, lost in a post-sex haze which had you unbearably turned on. Much to your joy however, you soon found Mammon's presence above you once more. His glowing eyes connecting with yours before he leant in for a sloppy kiss, messier than the first one had been, filled with a fervent passion that had grown in the vial of your lust.

Mammon's hands roamed your body, as yours did his. He groped at your sides and waist, holding you close so that you could grind your body against his. Palming the tent in his pants eagerly.

"You're too good for me, you know that, right?" The larger demon grumbled, barely pulling away from your lips as he spoke. So much so that the vibration of his voice hummed into your mouth.

You chittered against him longingly, meekly shaking your head against his. "I'm really not." You griped, rolling your eyes to the side before promptly letting go of his body and letting yourself fall backward into the sheet. "I was made for you.. now... if you would please do me the honours. Fuck me."

At your desperate demand Mammon was quick to action. "Anything you want, darl." He purred with a seductive drawl. The sin towered over you dangerously, leaning down to press loose kisses to your lips, slowly traversing his attention down toward your neck and collarbone. Where he licked and nipped against your skin widly. Desperate to hear the little gasps you'd let out from his dangerous attention.

He brought his hands away from your body, an action you whined against, but ultimately submitted to for you knew he removed his hands to fumble with the his pants, the piece of Fool themed garment that stood between you and getting what you wanted.

Oh, and where you about to get what you wanted.

Mammon brought himself toward you once again, pressing soothing and loving kisses to your lips as he aligned himself with your enternace. You felt the shaft of his cock rub against your slit tauntingly, bringing forth a mewl of pleading nature from your lips. The Prince chuckled darkly at that, which only lead to you pouting against his lips embrace.

Mammon brought a pair of his hands down toward your hips once again, with another one moving upward to intertwine with one of your free hands which were held high above your head. With this position, melded close to his body so that he could nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, he held you steady and began to sheath himself into you.

Tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, and you panted harshly. His enterance stung, it always did, he was so much larger compared to you so he had to be careful as to not pain you too much. The demon hushed your silent cries with a cautious nip to your neck, sinking his sharp teeth against your pretty flesh lightly in a weak attempt to subdue your other worries. His tongue flicked across your neck tauntingly, which resulted in a choked moan from your end. Slowly, the stinging which ran through your system melded into that of recreation and your pants of pain turned to pants of pleasure.

He brought his head upward and gazed down at you yearnfully, hands kneading gentle circles into your hips. "Are you ready?" He inquired, voice soft with worry. He kept himself full inside you, concerned that the slightest of movement would hurt you.

You took a second to catch your breath, swallowing thickly before nodding your head at his words. Offering a sly smirk in his direction.

He was slow, at first. Cautious as to how you would take him, he always was. He pulled his girth away from your tight channel all the way, before oncemore pushing himself back inside. Caught in awe at the whines and moans you'd echo outward at each thrust.

He wanted to be easy with you, he really did. He wanted to be nice and slow so that he couldn't possibly hurt you, but, you just kept making such sweet sounds. Chanting his name like a mantra, worshipping him like the God he was. With each thrust you clenched around him tightly, milking waves of pleasure from him each time. He was a greedy, greedy man and he needed all of you at once, everything of you he could have.

He brought his mouth back to yours in an attempt to taste you, letting his tongue explore the wonders of your mouth, but allowing enough space so that you could keep letting out moans and mewls each time he pounded into you.

"You-- aah, you are so, so.." Mammon brought his mouth away from yours for just a moment, trying his hardest to muster up a compliment but was lost in the heat of the moment. He let out a breathless whine, before lowering his head to your neck once more. "You're fuckin' everything."

You tried to respond, to thank him for his kind words or maybe make fun of him for being so sappy. However your words were lost in translation, turning into half-assed sentences amongst whines and gasps, too lost in a cloud of your own hot, burning pleasure to even think about functioning properly.

"M--Mammon.." You mumbled, voice hoarse and raw from all your cries and pleas. You bucked your hips against his, trying to match his unwavering, borderline bruising pace to chase the high that was now building in your core.

The demon lifted his head away from your neck, now locking eyes with you intently. Once again you were basked in a soft green hue, reflecting prettily against your sweat-lined skin, midly coated in the blood from where he had bitten your skin, and bruises from where he had given you hickeys. He grinned devilishly at his work, proud of the ways he had claimed your skin.

Such thoughts seemed to snap something within him, pushing him over the edge. His thrusts grew rapid and desperate, even more so than before. You could feel a coil building in your core again, and he could tell you were just as close as he was from the way you clenched around him so tightly.

"I'm so- o--oh! I'm gonna.." You whined out your state to Mammon, urging him to keep at his needy pace.

Pleasure rolled through your system, burning your whole body overwhelmingly and tightening progressively. It bubbled under your skin before finally, as Mammon's thrusts grew irate, snapping. Your orgasm rocked your body almost painfully, leaving you limp and shaking, cunt clenching around him as he grew sloppy and lazy. Mammon whined needily as he spilt his cum inside you, grip against your hips and hand tightening and loosening unpredictably.

There was a silent few seconds where you and Mammon simply stared at each other. Bodies still melded together in a spent, wheezing heap of fucked out demons.

You cocked your head to the side with a sly grin, leaning up to place a sweet kiss to the corner of his cheek. "So, you wanted to talk about my shows in Lust?"

Mammon groaned. His eyes rolling to the side sarcastically before he lowered his head to rest against your chest. Nuzzling into you softly. You brought a hand up to pet the top of his head lovingly.

"I think we need to add some things to your work contract."

#helluva boss x reader #mammon hb x reader #mammon hb #i need him so bad #helluva boss x reader smut #mammon hb x reader smut #i love him #lowk shitty but isnt it cool #mammon is so ooc #but its okayv #because i love hin

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skamenglishsubs · 1 month

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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 5

Episode 5 starts sometime after August dropped the bombshell about Erik at the end of last episode, and Wilhelm decides for some reason to visit the party palace, in order to make himself feel extra shit? I don't know what's going on here.

Blink and you miss it: Hey, that's one of the clown masks they used for Wilhelm's initiation back in season 1.

Blink and you miss it: Henry and Valter are doing a class presentation on rhetorical analysis, and for some reason they chose former US president George W. Bush as their subject, which is pretty hilarious given that he was a notoriously bad public speaker.

Blink and you miss it: Instead of asking Wilhelm, who is sitting right next to Simon, how he's feeling, he writes the question in his notebook and slides it over.

Subtext: Gotta keep up that facade and bottle all the negative feelings inside!

Lost in translation: Vincent uses the word "nyanländ", "newly arrived", which is the current politically correct way of saying immigrant.

Subtext: ...but in typical bully fashion he asks the target of the racist "joke" if it was funny, and Marwan obviously lies about it as to not upset Vincent.

Subtext: Felice tries to play it off as no big deal, but she actually wants this opportunity to spend time with Sara without her other friends, in order to rebuild the friendship.

Subtext: Sara is right to be suspicious of her dad, because he is a lot more energetic than usual, and excuses his behaviour by him simply being in a good mood. It's probably his new medication that kicked in, though.

Subtext: Speaking of having a hard time showing weakness, that's exactly what Wilhelm's been struggling with by not telling Simon how upset he is about having learned that Erik took part in the gay porn initiation.

Subtext: So the whole subplot of the past four episodes was that the school locked up all the phones, and Wilhelm joined the little strike to get them back, pissing Simon off in the meantime, and now that they have their phones back he's not picking up when Simon is calling him? Not cool.

Culture: The choir is practising "En vänlig grönskas rika dräkt", a Swedish hymnal with text from 1889, but this version of the melody is from the 1930's and composed by Waldemar Åhlén. It's a very well-known summer song that pretty much every Swedish schoolkid has sung at some end-of-schoolyear summer assembly.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, and this time the lighting is harsh and sharp, Wilhelm is in stark contrast to the rest of the room, there's no soft golden light smoothing things out, so we're gonna have an argument!

Subtext: Yeah, no, Wilhelm, sweetie, that's projection, that's what you are thinking about your brother. Simon isn't doing anything wrong here, he's just concerned about you being a moody asshole.

Cinematography: To illustrate how the relationship is going south, the music room which used to be full of instruments, is just getting emptier and emptier, and Simon is left standing alone at the piano.

Subtext: No, he's not feeling ok, and no, he's not interested in making up with Sara right now, because he's still angry at her.

Subtext: There are different kinds of homophobia, for example, there are people who talk loudly about how accepting they are of The Gays, but who react negatively when someone close to them comes out, because they were only fine with it at a distance. And then there are people who are ignorantly homophobic in general, but who turn out to be supportive of anyone close to them who comes out, because they know that that person isn't like The Other Gays. Shitty, but less shitty than the first group, and I think that's how Erik would have reacted had he known about Wilhelm.

Culture: In Sweden, you do the practical driving test in a car provided by the testing centre to make it fair and equal for everyone. These cars all have a red sticker saying they're for driving tests.

Subtext: Micke is failing exactly how he described it in an earlier episode. He's on new medication, it made him feel good and like he was in control, so he thought he could take just one beer with his friends.

Subtext: No, it fits horribly, and you can clearly see that it was on sale and that the price tag is still on it. But this is what Linda can afford.

Lost in translation: Simon actually says "jag vet", "I know", when Sara tells him that their dad let her down and that she is sad and upset about it.

Subtext: Unlike Simon who got a cheap suit on sale, Wilhelm just has his perfectly tailored suit delivered to him by his bodyguards.

Subtext: Last episode Wilhelm picked a sport charity or something that he doesn't actually care about, because he thought it would best fit the narrative the royal court is going for. So now his internal homophobia is screaming at him to remove the nail polish, because it doesn't fit that image.

I don't know what this is: This has got to be an editing goof? This sequence of events doesn't work. Everyone else is up and about, preparing the third year's dinner with the teachers and they're even cooking the food with a chef, but it's early morning and Wilhelm is still sleeping in? Anyway, the whole thing is yet another example of how the school teaches hierarchy. As a younger student you service the older students, and when it's your turn to graduate, someone younger will service you.

Throwback: Aww, Simon made Wilhelm a sandwich, just like Wilhelm made one for Simon a bunch of times in previous seasons.

Culture: Man, early summer in Sweden is beautiful, isn't it? This was shot at Åkeshofs Slott in Stockholm, and if you do a 180 turn on that path, you'll see the subway station Åkeshov, and if you go through the tunnel under the road and then up to your right, you'll end up at a sports centre where I went twice a week as a kid for fencing training!

This tumblr is now about French school fencing! Doublé! Riposte!

Subtext: Time and time again the show has shown us how much August loves this shit, and that he wasn't lying when he said he knew everyone, because clearly he does!

Subtext: And to show how much Wilhelm dislikes this shit, he is so stiff when talking to the invited kids who are actually benefitting from his charity foundation, while August just immediately jokes around with them and is much more comfortable.

Culture: I've seen how a lot of fans think that the flower Wilhelm is wearing is a green carnation, which is a symbol for being gay, popularized by Oscar Wilde. I don't think so, that's not a thing in Sweden as far as I know. Instead, I think it's an alternate version of a Majblomma, which is an actual Swedish charity thing, where you can buy these plastic lapel flowers from schoolkids to show your support around this time of year.

Subtext: Even though Simon is there, he's being shoved to the back, because his presence doesn't fit the narrative. If Wilhelm instead had chosen to start some kind of LGBT charity, Simon would have had a much more prominent role. Oh, and poison or not, that Princess Cake looks delicious!

Subtext: Farima is expertly letting August down, who of course pretends that he's not the least bit disappointed at being excluded from having dinner at the royal palace.

Blink and you miss it: IT'S LISA! HI LISA!

Culture: Kalle Stropp och Grodan Boll are two characters from a radio show for kids from the 1940's, but they've also been featured in books, comic books, a live action movie, and animated cartoons. It's about the two titular characters, a cricket and a frog, and their adventures. The last movie was made in the 1990's though, so I'm not so sure kids these days knows who these characters are. Personally, I can't hear this song without hearing their silly character voices.

Subtext: The Queen is still keeping up appearances and lying through her teeth about how she's actually feeling.

Culture: In real world Sweden, Victoriadagen is celebrated in mid July when Crown Princess Victoria has her birthday, she hands out a sports award, there's a concert, some charity stuff, and you can sort of meet the royals or sing her happy birthday or something.

Subtext: August is repeating the excuse Farima used on him as to why he didn't attend the birthday dinner.

Blink and you miss it: That's a Rolex Oyster Perpetual GMT-Master II. It's only about $10,000 and change.

Subtext: Simon, sweetie, I don't think the royals have any clue as to what "the usual" means when you're describing how regular people celebrate birthdays.

Culture: Simon actually says Laserdome, which is a company in Sweden that has been running laser tag arenas since the 1990's. I had no idea they still existed!

Culture: They're singing Lambo, a drinking song for students. It's a challenge song, so while the rest of the table sings, the target has to finish their glass, correctly sing the response lines, and turn the glass upside down over their head. If you fail, like August does in this scene, you have to do a penalty round and chug another glass.

Subtext: ...before her parents heaped all of their family's expectations on her. But maybe if Felice can break free she could pursue her actual dreams?

Throwback: Remember the scene in S1E3 when Simon is practising the Hillerska song in the music room?

Subtext: Queenie, sweetie, you're not looking Wilhelm in the eyes, you're not engaging in the discussion, and the only thing you do is to talk about Erik every chance you get. No wonder Wilhelm has had enough and explodes at his parents.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent won the "Daddy pays" award. Pappa betalar.

Subtext: In this context the award just means that he's the image of a bad boy, a player. But throughout the season, August has been struggling with whether or not he's actually a bad person, which is why he's not exactly happy with the award.

Cinematography: Fuck me that's a pretty shot of a typical summer sunset. In late May in the Stockholm area, sunset happens at around 9:30 in the evenings.

Subtext: One more explanation for August's body dysmorphia is that he got bullied for being weak and scrawny when he first started at Hillerska, so he decided to start working out more.

Blink and you miss it: The reason Fredrika is outside and happens to see Sara and August kiss, is because she's trying to sneak away the bottle of wine she stole earlier from the kitchen.

Subtext: And the reason Felice looks upset when Fredrika tells her what she saw is because she truly thought Sara was over August, and that's a condition of them reconciling.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm plays the first few notes of the original Hillerska song.

Subtext: And to cap off this terrible no-good horrible cliffhanger episode, Simon breaks up with Wilhelm by repeating the words his mom said to him earlier in the episode.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

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hatsunemiku-official · 11 months

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ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

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🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

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thechaoticdruid · 4 months

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🍿Watching movies with Astarion Headcanons!🍿

(Because I literally put this in a chapter of 'This Bites'.)

Astarion's favorite genre would obviously be horror movies.

All the gore and carnage really gets him excited.

He WILL give you a hard time for showing any fear.

"Really darling? After everything we've been through this is what reduces you to a shivering kitten. It's rather embarrassing sweetie."

He'll roll his eyes and pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. "I suppose I'll just have to keep you safe then. You poor sweet pitiful thing."

Of course if the horror movie has clowns anywhere in it he's the one acting like a terrified kitten.

But he won't admit it. "I was NOT afraid. I'm a vampire! I'm far more frightening than some makeup caked fool!"

Refuses to let you comfort him and just sits there, paranoidly looking over his shoulders.

Alien horror movies (especially the weird grotesque slimy alien ones) are also not recommended as they make him very nauseous.

You may end up having to clean blood off the carpet.

Vampire movies annoy him. Too many inaccuracies and some of the tropes don't make sense to him.

Especially the brooding male vampire lead who's so tormented because he has to kill people.

"Oh boo hoo you murdered a bunch of villains. Get over it. Killing is the best part of being a vampire! Fucking poser."

He'll hate watch some of the shitty vampire flicks with you tho

Lives for drama filled flicks. The more chaos the better.

Any comedy movie with meanspirited or immature humor is a win, it'll keep him entertained as long as it's not too stupid.

He doesn't get into nerdy fantasy movies too much. The man literally lives in a medieval fantasy world so he's seen a lot of the Lord of the rings type stuff first hand.

He'll watch them with you at least once tho.

Gets annoyed if you watch a nerdy flick with Gale because the wizard won't shut up about if what is going on in the movie is actually possible/realistic and keeps listing random geeky facts about his favorite films.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP GALE!"

Secretly likes mushy romance movies, but you'll never get him to admit it.

Only openly enjoys them if they have a lot of sex scenes.

Of course he's gonna tease you if you're the type to get embarrassed during those scenes.

Very subtly runs his hand over your thigh without even looking at you.

Has a smug smirk on his face while he does it too.

May or may not be interested in some as the kids say 'netflix and chill'.

Depends on his mood really.

Drinks a little bit of your blood while watching if you offer it to him.

Will ugly cry if a loveable dog or cat dies at the end of the movie.

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bumblinv · 1 year

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--- 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 !

daily life as a part of the phantom thieves

contents akira, ann, yusuke, makoto, futaba x gn!reader

forgetting to bring an umbrella in a rainy day means arriving home soaked, cause you and ryuji both ran through the rain. his blazer he used to shield you both barely keeping any of you dry

imagine teaching makoto how to gossip cause missgirl doesn't understand the fun of it

thinking of bonding with futaba by beating minecraft together. you two got the ender dragon down after just 10 hours of gameplay, with full on enchanted diamond armors and swords. she had done this countless time you dont have to worry about a damn thing

yusuke takes modern art seriously, like he would shot ryuji an offended look if he laugh or talk about how ridiculous any of it looks

at some point of time, after they got back from the nastiest, stinkiest, most shitty smelling part of mementos, akira would bathe morgana despite his protests. he doesn't want any of that on his bed

yusuke lets his brushes marinate in a jar of water for months

window shopping with ann... imagine going through the entire mall for hours without actually buying anything and ending the day at her favourite crepe place

ryuji loosing banks cause everyone keeps beating his ass at mario kart 😭😭

try encouraging makoto to open up more. despite her being the best listener, she never really got anyone to share her thoughts and stories to

i know futaba is that one person ordering nuggets and fries when the rest are having boiled seafood

despite people viewing him badly cause he got a criminal record, akira still attracts many chicks at school and he knows

ryuji was the famous class clown, but everything went downhill for him after the track team incident

i can see makoto being the mother of the group, making sure everyone is well fed and will heal everyone's injuries when infiltrating palaces. her scolding would rip through the air everytime someone does something reckless

#persona 5 x reader #akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya #ren amamiya x reader #ryuji sakamoto #ryuji x reader #ann takamaki #ann x reader #yusuke kitawaga #yusuke x reader #makoto niijima #makoto x reader #futaba sakura #futaba x reader #morgana #persona 5

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ddeonuswhre · 2 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ [END].

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Juyeon x M!reader.

Author's Note: uuuh I don't think I'm okaaaaaaaay, I don't think I'm okay. I honestly didn't know whether to upload it, I feel like it's garbage.

Previously: You're tired of being his last option (being hidden) and you decide to end "things" with him, maybe he'll fix it, maybe he won't.

Genre: Discussions, Against, Fluff (kinda), Drama.

Wrng: internalized homophobia.

"I should have dressed as a clown to make a fool of myself in a better way." You thought.

It was around noon and you had been waiting for more than three hours for what is supposedly your boyfriend. You both had agreed that today you would see each other after a very hard week, exams and projects were driving you crazy. There is nothing better than a whole day resting with the person you love the most so far. At least, that's what you thought when you first arrived at the coffee shop. Where is he? It was your only question for a while now. He didn't even answer your calls. That would have been the last straw, the whole jug. It wasn't the first time he had put you through something like this, but after many conversations, he promised that he would change and you really tried to believe him.

You wanted to continue waiting for him, you wanted to continue hoping for the idea that he would arrive, but the time was approaching for you to be in your first class of the day and since you were also part of the committee, you decided to pay for your coffee and leave without further ado. You felt so embarrassed after paying the girl, you spent more than two hours boasting to her that this would be 'the day' and that after a long time, she would finally meet the boy you've been talking so much about for more than 4 months now, unfortunately things didn't happen—again.

"M/N!" You heard from afar that distinctive loud voice that could only tell you who it was, you were so angry that you decided to speed up your pace to avoid talking to him, however your ways of escaping would have been worthless after feeling his fingers gently sink into your shoulder. When you turned around you began to listen to his great sermon of reasons why he took 'longer than he thought', but as always, everything he said ended with 'sorry, bro' and its characteristic way of messing up your hair.

Ouch, to a certain point you understood that he was afraid to say that he is gay, I mean, he told you before they started dating and you were fine with that, I say you were because you always saw him surrounded by several of his 'girl-friends' and even you saw him hugged by the neck with one in particular. Does he have to do all that just out of fear? I think he also forgot that you also had feelings, maybe he forgot that you were dating and that constantly made you overthink. The only thing you wanted was to be able to hold his hand without him constantly looking around.

ㅡSomething happens?ㅡThe brunette exclaimed after seeing you all the way with your head down and muttering a couple of things that didn't make much sense.

"I was just thinking about the exams. . . and us." You didn't want to get into your feelings any further. It wasn't even the place, and surprisingly, not the person you would want to talk to about this. On the other hand, you only heard a heavy sigh and saw out of the corner of your eye how he only nodded sadly.

"Did I do something wrong? Tell me what I did wrong now, and I'll fix it" You felt a big hole in your chest, you wanted to scream at him right then and there about everything that should change so that you could stop feeling like a shitty boyfriend and he could lose that fear of being left alone just because he had someone of the same sex as his partner, but you only deigned to stare at him and caress his cheek.

In the entire class you couldn't concentrate better because of the laughing session that Juyeon was having with one of his friends at the back of the room, you had finally decided that the best option—for you—would be to end what was still going on between the two of you. You didn't hesitate to send him a random message but you didn't get a response from the boy, you had no choice but to wait until class could finish and talk to him before he went to play basketball.

"Juyeon, I have to tell you something, and I think it will be quick." You told him when he was going down a couple of steps after the teacher was ready to put his things away and leave, when the individual left and there was no one else in the room—so you two started talking about how you felt being there, after several months together; what liked to do most, what didn't, etc. Everything was going so well until some basketball teammates rushed to the classroom door and asked for the tallest one.

Your heart stopped after hearing him say, "Just give me a minute, I'm talking to a friend." Is that what you were to him? It seems that yes, Eric was right. You should not continue being in a place where you were only the couple when he got the chip on. You didn't know that "friends" always spent their time kissing or watching a series while doing nothing but caressing each other or even ending up naked on a bed with only a sheet covering both bodies. It didn't take long for your eyes to be glassy with the amount of tears you didn't want to shed, at least not in front of him, in front of the same boy who broke your heart in the worst way you've ever experienced so far.

You tried to raise your gaze so you could see his eyes and give him a weak smile, you did nothing more than leave a couple of pats on his shoulder before leaving the room. You knew that things didn't go any further after he denied you, who knows how many times he must have done the same thing, that was the real reason why you no longer fought or thought with hate.

"W-wait, what does this mean?" The raven man asked after rushing out of the same place and thus taking you by the forearm.

ㅡWe're done, I don't like going out with friends.ㅡ You said as you let go of his grip and continued walking to the cafeteria, where your best friend was.

The boy, for his part, just stood there stunned in that cold hallway where you left him without even turning to look at him, he was stunned, he couldn't process anything that just happened, he knew he screwed up.

Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

#kpop x male reader #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #eric x reader #tbz eric #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop boys #juyeon #lee juyeon #tbz x reader #tbz juyeon #tbz #kpop #this is so gay #and heartbreaking #eric tbz

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feyarcher · 2 years

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Okay, I know the English internet spends a lot of time staring and ongoing political disasters in the US and the UK and oh what disasters they are, but CANADA 🇨🇦 WE GOTTA FOCUS FOR A MINUTE.

Ontario has municipal elections THIS MONDAY OCTOBER 24th! And you need to show up and vote!

Just like all our regular provincial and federal elections, it is okay if you aren't sure if you are on the voters rolls or if you info got updated after you moved or whatever - YOU CAN DEFINITELY VOTE AS LONG AS YOU ARE A CANADIAN LIVING IN THAT SPOT. You just bring proof of your address to the polling place and you'll be fine, I promise. I've done it. It takes like 2 minutes to sign the paper declaring you do indeed live there.

Now you may be asking "but do these elections really matter?" And the answer is YES THEY MATTER SO MUCH. There are racists and xenophobes and transphones and sexist and antisemitic and antivax people running all over the place and the one thing we know by now is that bigots get organized to get to the polls so we have to also organize to counter them by voting!

There are probably 3 things you need to look up who to vote for in your area: mayor, councillor, and school board trustee. All three matter! Please don't only focus on mayor, if the terfs get onto the school boards, they'll do serious damage.

So what can you do?

- First, search "[your town] election" and you'll get the link to the official election page on your city website. It'll tell you the poll hours for THIS MONDAY OCTOBER 24th and you'll be able to find your polling place and a sample ballot showing all the people running for all the roles (mayor, councillor, school board) in your district.

- Check out the candidates! If you want to narrow it down, for major things like mayor you can see which 3 or 4 people have a realistic shot of getting more than 10% of the vote based on polls and then look at the platforms for just those people. For more niche things like school board, you probably need to look at every candidate but less will be running. Please check the CBC article I linked above to narrow down the obvious terfs.

- Make a plan of when you are going to vote! Know what time is best for you to go and how you will get there.

- Get your friends and family to plan to vote too! Help them out by sharing your research and let them know who you are voting for for each part. Sometimes the idea of doing the research into candidates is too daunting, but if you share your plan with them, you can get more people to the polls.

- IF YOU AREN'T IN ONTARIO: Reach out to your friends and family here and ask what their plan to vote is. Help them out with the above if you can.

So much stuff gets decided at the municipal level, but they are expecting record low turnout and low turnout is dangerous for shitty people getting into positions that matter. We are already stuck with a clown at the province level. We need to make sure people who will work against him get elected at your local level.

It's one day, probably 45 minutes of your time including travel both ways and any line at busy times. Honestly, voting usually takes me 7 minutes at most at the polls even whe I was a student and voting in weird ways. They make it so easy if you just show up.

MASK UP AND GET TO THE POLLS ONTARIO!

#I'm on mobile which is why this is caps instead of bold font #ontario election #ontario #canadian politics #canada #i cannot tell you how worried i am about the asshats running in niche elections #but i can tell you that every time I have voted anywhere in any election has been easy as pie #please share if you have anyone following who might be from Ontario

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i-trash-about-things · 1 month

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Eddie's shitty sense of humor strikes again.

A random blurb that came to me after reading some headcannons about Eddie's childish sense of humor

777 words (nice). Suggestive but nothing happens. Reader has hair long enough to tug. GN!Reader and Ed are best friends. Swear word count: 4. English is not my first language! Sorry if something doesn't make sense and feel free to correct me! (Repost because Tumblr flunked the last time I tried posting this)

If you wanna be Eddie Munson’s friend, you’ve gotta learn a few rules. Handle his guitar with care, or else he’ll bash it in the side of your head. If W.A.S.P. is on, you do not skip a single song.

You know all of these, better than anyone with you being his best friend. His partner in crime, the one that always gets him out of trouble– or gets into trouble with him.

But there’s one rule you know better than all of the rest.

Eddie is nothing if not a damn clown.

Loud, potentially annoying, and will crack a joke like he can’t hold it back. Be it an awkward one liner at a funeral, a sarcastic remark in the middle of class or a genuine good joke in the middle of a campaign– His mouth is moving faster than his brain, and all that leaves his lips is absolute tomfoolery.

You know it, your friends know it, all of Hawkins knows it.

And an example of this behavior is that fact he can’t see any one of his friends bending down to fetch whatever fell without pretending to hump against their ass, groaning and moaning so exaggerated you never know if you wanna laugh or cringe.

Shameless.

It is kinda funny when Gareth gets all pissy afterwards, tho.

But, even though you and Eds have been friends for the good part of 4 years now– he never did this to you. Not because he didn’t want to or because it’d be weird, but because he just never had the chance.

You, differently from most people, doesn’t tend to bend down to reach something. You just crouch. Or kneel, when the moment calls for it.

It’s just something you’ve been doing since forever, so you’re more used to it. Mindless, instinct, really.

But the past few weeks, you think Eddie’s been trying to get you to bend down– like he wants to get a completion prize for humping everyone in the Hellfire Club (with the exception of the sheepies, duh). He drops his pick mid practice, asks for you to grab a figurine stacked on the box near the foot of his bed– anything, just to get you to bend over.

So far? No such luck.

But Eddie isn’t anything if not committed to the bit. So, one day, the opportunity shows itself for him and he takes it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. He was just getting ready to go out, both of you gathering your coats by the front door of his trailer so you wouldn’t freeze your butts off–

“Oh, hey– wait.” Your hand leaves the sleeve of your hoodie, instead reaching for him to stop moving. Your face is down, eyes on the floor, and he raises an eyebrow. “I think there’s something stuck to your shoe. Hol’ up.”

And before he has the chance to freak out in worry if it’s a spider– you’re kneeling between his feet, tugging on whatever it is stuck to his sneakers.

And, like a match dropped into gasoline, he sees his chance and goes for it.

You don’t have the chance to raise your face before you feel familiar fingers tangling into the front of your hairline, tugging your head up roughly– and Eddie let’s out an exaggerated, throaty groan, half-heartedly moving his hips that are eye level to you.

“Mmph! Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart, just like that!” He cackles, biting his lip and tilting his head back for that extra effect… But pauses when he doesn’t hear you laughing or groaning in annoyance at his shenanigans.

So he looks back down… And something about the smirk on your face makes his heart skip a beat.

Despite the crude and sexual joke, you don’t look embarrassed in the slightest– much less uncomfortable, which was Eddie’s original fear. No… No, you look amused.

Smug.

There’s something about the way your eyes are halflided, full of mirth as you look up at him from your spot by the floor. The shit eating tilt to your smirk has a shiver running down his spine, and his grip on your hair instinctively loosens. Amused, confident even– even while literally kneeling by his feet.

Jesus H. Christ.

“You’re a dumb ass, Munson, you know that?” You say, the slight tilt to your words hinting at an affectionate tone that has him swallowing the dryness on the back of his throat. He almost doesn’t hear you over the sound of the blood rushing from his head down south.

“I live to entertain.” He hears himself say, and for once he thanks the fact his mouth moves faster than his brain.

#hopefully tumblr won't fuck this post up this fime around #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #YOU #YES YOU #suggestive #trash's writing tag o/

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