Foolish Mortals Kink Meme!

[grimgrinningghosts]

 
(Stolen from DRRP's Kink Meme)

HERE'S SOME GUIDELINES/RULES:
1. All requests- smut, fluff, gen or otherwise (alternate murders, anyone?)- are welcome so long as it's about Foolish Mortals.
2. Fic and art fills are all good.
3. This is for all rounds of Foolish Mortals. Intermingled cast requests ("what if so-so and so-so from this and that round met?") are acceptable. (Even though there's only the Mock Trial and one Round so far)
4. Staying anon is fun but not required
5. There's going to be enough dicks to go around we don't need you to be one too.
6. Use proper trigger/content warnings for sensitive and/or offensive subjects, just like you would in FM proper.
7. This is a judge free zone, however, we only ask that you be mindful of character ages, esp. in regards to the younger characters.
8. If you do not want your character to be involved with the smut or things that make you uncomfortable please contact us. This is ultimately just for fun and we would hate for it to become upsetting for anyone.
9. Respect player wishes if they ask to not have their character be in smut or anything out of their comfort zone.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Some of the girls try to hook Elsa up with someone, since she didn't get a ship.

TL;DR Fidds/Lefou (optional Ford Squared, optional Fidds/Ford/Lefou)

[(Anonymous)]

Based on a conversation on plurk:

Somehow, Lefou gets introduced to a modern vibrator (maybe the slot machine decides to take a page out of another murdergame's freebies list for a day), and when the concept is explained to him he just. Doesn't get it. People in the future still have full use of their hands, right? Why use a machine for what your hands can do just fine?

Well, the mansion just so happens to have an engineer who takes great umbrage to that remark. And you know, there's no better way to convince someone you're right than by showing them.

Bonus: Lefou is deeply uncertain about the machine that Fidds has in store for him, so Fidds demonstrates on a much more willing volunteer (Ford) first.

1/? theres not even smut in this part

[(Anonymous)]

The slot machine in the mansion game room has had a habit since the very beginning of producing items that are, perhaps, unusual. Lefou knows when he pulls that lever he might find an entire dead zebra in his lap, but after everything else he's seen in this house a dead zebra would be practically benign. He only has one coin to spend anyway, which is something of a relief after the practical deluge he had to deal with last time.

What thunks out of the machine is not a dead zebra. It isn't one of those lion pelts they now have enough of for every guest room to have its own rug, either. It's a long, smooth thing with a tapered tip on one end and a flat sort of cap on the other. It's a demure shade of lavender and he can't imagine what the hell it could possibly be except that it looks like -- but surely is in't, even if the way the tapered end bulges out oh-so-slightly is highly suspect. No, it's some sort of esoteric future technology, which means he knows who he ought to ask if he wants an explanation better than the one his provincial mind can come up with.

He finds Ford and Fiddleford in the study. Fiddleford is tuning his banjo, checking and re-checking the strings even though she's already perfectly in-tune. Lefou has learned by now it's a particular quirk of his to do it five times before he's satisfied. Ford is reading a book, and while Lefou can't read the cover he can recognize it on-sight as Cosmos, which he knows for a fact Ford has read cover-to-cover quite a few times already. It's busywork for the both of them, something to keep occupied because in this place keeping occupied is just about all they have. He can tell by the way they both look up in unison with almost grateful expressions when he enters the room that even busywork isn't helping much right now.

"Lefou, my boy!" Ford shuts his book, not even bothering to mark his place. "I was --"

He stops and his expression does something very peculiar indeed. It looks very much like he's trying his level best to swallow back a laugh.

"Where did you, ah. Where did you get that?" He gestures to the thing, which Lefou is holding loosely at his side.

"Oh, this?" He lifts it up a little. Both Ford and Fiddleford follow it with their eyes. "It came out of the slot machine and I wondered if you could tell me what it was."

It's Fiddleford who breaks first, with a wheezy kind of laugh and a soft oh my lord, and once he starts laughing Ford has to start laughing too. This is unusual, because while there is certainly no shortage of things in this house that they understand a whole lot better than he does it's never been a point of mockery. He looks between the two of them, waiting for them to tell him what he's missing.

"Oh, hon, I'm sorry," Fiddleford says; he was the first to break but he's also the first to be concerned with not giving the wrong impression. "It's just-- that's--"

"It's a sex toy," Ford explains. "Here, let me see it."

"Oh -- here."

He holds it out and Ford takes it, turns it over in his hands, and then twists near the flat end. It begins to whir. Lefou doesn't startle, exactly, but his eyebrows certainly do jump a measurable distance toward his hairline. Ford twists it silent again and looks at him with an expression that clearly is meant to say 'you see?' but he doesn't see at all. It seems so… needlessly complicated. It'd be like having a machine to dry your hair when the air does that just fine already.

"Don't you… I mean, you have hands in the future still." This is a valid point, he feels, even if he also feels a little stupid saying it because… well… it seems so obvious? He knows all the things a person can do to another with their hands and all of them are perfectly serviceable. He's having a slightly harder time parsing what one is meant to do with that whirring contraption, except perhaps put it places he'd prefer to have other things put in the first place.

They both look at him as though this is perhaps the most charming thing anyone has ever said.

"Oh, sure," Fiddleford agrees. "But hands get tired, don't they? And they can't always get all the places you might want them to and then you've got wranglin' another person to contend with because that's about the only other way to fix that problem, isn't it, but not everyone wants to deal with that either. It's a quality of life sort of thing, y'see."

"You should host vibrator infomercials," Ford says with a warm chuckle. Lefou doesn't know what an infomercial is exactly but he has a feeling that asking would just complicate the issue. "What he means is that yes, people in the future are perfectly capable of using their hands, but many of them like to have other options available."

That tracks, to a point. Coming from these two, though, he feels like he's missing something. It's no secret what they are to each other; he's very well-aware of that and has been for weeks, which is only a little longer than he's been casually participating in it. Fiddleford once tried to explain 'swinging' to him and it was a concept he grasped easily after Ford stepped in to keep the conversation from going in too many circles. The point is that he knows that they're perfectly capable of fucking without other options because he's seen it firsthand, so it feels like something of a moot point.

Some of the many, many misgivings Lefou is having must be showing through in his expression because Fiddleford says, "Somethin' not makin' sense?"

He shakes his head, his dark curls of hair bouncing around his face. "I understand it in theory, but it seems like if you're going to add on more options it's not a very good one, is it? Comparatively?"

"Ah, now. I don't think that's quite fair to say when you can't properly compare to begin with," Fiddleford says. There's something in his tone Lefou can't quite place because it's closest to what he might parse as a threat except he doesn't feel at all threatened. Funny enough, he never has with them. "Y'know what? You let me keep this, give me a couple of days to get things ready, and then if you're amenable to it I'll give you a demonstration."

"I think you'll like it," Ford adds, expression earnest. "Fiddleford knows his way around this sort of thing."

Lefou looks between the two of them (Ford's face is open and encouraging, while Fiddleford's expression is more akin to a schoolmaster patiently waiting for the answer to an arithmetic problem) and decides that everything they've done together up to this point has been nice. He has no reason to expect that whatever the two of them are planning to do to him with that little lavender device won't also be nice. And if it isn't… well, he's found himself in the singularly novel position of knowing that if he changes his mind, the only consequence he'll have to face is them stopping.

"Well… okay. Okay, I'll give it a try." Privately he still doesn't think he'll like it nearly so much as they seem to think he will, but he's just curious enough about what Fiddleford needs 'a couple of days' to do that he's willing to suspend his judgement. It certainly helps to see Ford's earnest expression melt into a pleased smile, to see the way Fiddleford's eyes get bright like he's already working and re-working plans in his head.

He has a feeling that whatever happens, this is going to be interesting.

[(Anonymous)]

Star haunts Fiddleford.

[(Anonymous)]

EXECUTIONS

execute the characters who didn't get executed, execute the other ones again, just kill everyone, GO

everyone and anyone can fill this it's always open you can't be late

The Liar

[folkscallmewander]

No one wanted to believe Wander had did it, especially the alien himself. More than that, he didn't want to believe that Sylvia of all people was the one two trick him into feeding Tarzan poison. She was his best friend, she would never use him.

Wander couldn't dare look at her horrified face at the realization of what she had done. The galaxy needed him more than her, and he had to go back and be the hope for those Dominator left behind. But how could he ever do that knowing he had the blood of nineteen people on his hands, albeit unwillingly?

The Ghost Host betrayed no sign of emotion, but he looked tired. "You have voted correctly. The execution will commence." Wander looked up at him with worry in his eyes. He had always accepted his eventual death, but not in front of the people he cared about: the friends he met in the mansion, Sylvia, even Ghostave.

The lights went out for a brief moment, and when Wander reappeared, he was on a dark stage with a single beam of light centered on him. He kept his feet planted on the spot as he turned to search for whatever was going to come at him. Monsters, ghosts, robots, the things he knew how to evade.

A quiet, carnival-like song played from one end of the stage. Wander snapped to attention, mostly curious yet a bit worried, as to what that could mean. He could swear it was an accordion, so if the ghosts chose the instrument purposefully to make him angry--

Behind him, a pair of glowing blank white eyes and a matching too-wide grin shone against the black background. A sinking feeling in his stomach pulled Wander's head in that direction, but the face disappeared the instant he turned around and reappeared behind him once more. Wander took several steps back, and the beam of light followed him. As he turned around, the face stayed.

Wander leaped away with a shout as a tall man in a black hat and coat stepped forward, the backlight of the stage now revealing several of these large smiling men surrounding Wander. The broken, grainy music grew louder as Wander darted across the stage only to run into another of these men. They stepped closer and closer, offering a hand with their unchanging smile. Wander only grew more distressed, eventually giving up on escape, curled up, and covered his ears in a futile attempt to shut out the music. They found him, he can't escape, there's nothing he can do, they found him. One of the grinning men took hold of Wander's hat and whipped his last comfort off his head. Wander winced and waited for it to all be over.

...But the men did not move. They stood in a circle and watched Wander tremble. At least, the ground was trembling with him.

He cracked an eye open just as the floor split apart, revealing lava underneath the stage. The men drifted away on separate pieces as the center grew taller, revealing the true setting of the stage - the center of a volcano.

"No one else will die in this house..." The grinning men echoed Wander's sentiment at the start of the week in unison. With them drifting out of sight, Wander had time to recover and find a way out, but the pressure and lack of hat did nothing to calm him down. He could crawl over to one end of the rocky formation and climb up the stalactite, yeah. If he wasn't so jittery, he could get out in a matter of seconds.

Just before he reached the end, the edge of the formation collapsed, removing his only escape route.

Wander pushed himself onto his feet and ran to another spot. More ground collapsed, and a column of lava replaced it. With each new direction, less solid ground and more lava. Soon, there was nothing left but enough room for Wander to stand still and let the columns of lava surround him.

The last thing the others saw of him was Wander's terrified, sweating face as the volcano erupted, enveloping him in boiling magma. There was no time for him to scream.

[(Anonymous)]

Ford/Lefou/Walt threesome. Optional AU where nobody is upset about their dead husband.

[worldofcolor]

i hate all of you he's happily married

[(Anonymous)]

Jiminy Cricket teaches Sunday School to the characters that never heard of Jesus.

[(Anonymous)]

everyone beats up live action gaston for being mean to the good good boy

i don't know how but make it happen

[(Anonymous)]

While the others stayed clumped together, Maui explored the underworld. It gave him a chance to walk around by himself, but it made him confront the weariness that dragged at him like it didn't really the others. He'd spent so long sleeping at first that by the time he awoke, the others had begun to think that he was dead. Well, again.

The Underworld was no place for a demigod.

He pressed himself as flat to a crevice as he could when he heard two voices approaching.

"No, listen, just stick around a little longer! Big, Blue, and Ugly's got some kind of a real explosive exit planned! Don't you want the chance to go back and stick it to all those schmucks who did you wrong, Red? I hear they even got that little pipsqueak who was always dogging you everywhere! Didn't he turn on you in the end too?"

Maui mouthed "pipsqueak" to himself, brow furrowed in confusion. The duo that came around the corner was strange indeed. The fast-talker was some kind of a floating...monster, with a single eye and spindly arms and legs.

But less important than the monster was the man with him. The man in the red leather coat, with black hair pulled back into a ponytail on the nape of his neck, with a disgusted curl to his lips, crinkle in his nose, like he'd just stepped in something foul. With cruel grey-brown eyes that Maui had seen before, on a screen what felt like so long ago.

Gaston.

Maui waited until the duo had passed him, following them on silent feet until they parted ways (with the yellow monster bidding Gaston a "Just think about it, yeah?" as he went).

"Hey." Maui called, when he was sure that the yellow monster was out of earshot. Gaston turned, his eyebrows arching up when he realized that he had to look up to see Maui's face.

"Can I help you?" Gaston asked. Oh yeah. That face was very punchable.

"You're Gaston, yeah?" Maui asked.

"Captain Gaston to you. What does it matter?"

"Oh, it matters a lot to me. You see, much as I've got a whole bunch of friends who would just love to give you a piece of their minds, I am so glad that I got to meet you first." Maui took a step closer. Gaston took a half step back.

"I'm not afraid of you," Gaston said. Maui smirked.

"Wrong answer." He reached out to grab Gaston before he could bolt, slamming the man up against one of the stone walls and holding him there with one big arm pinned across his chest. He watched as fear came over Gaston's expression, as the man's eyes fell to Mini Maui. Maui spared his miniature a pointed glance, and Mini looked up at him, and then gestured like he was cracking his knuckles. Maui let out a dark chuckle. "Sounds good to me."

"What- what manner of devil are you?" Gaston pleaded, squirming, his boots scraping against the stone wall.

"Can't imagine someone like you's heard of someone as awesome as me. Maui, shapeshifter, demigod of the wind and sea, hero to all - and partner to someone who's told me all about you."

Realization hit Gaston like a bolt of lightning, and then that disgusted look returned.

"Why am I not surprised that he's fallen in with some kind of hulking, tribal heathen without me? Some giant who thinks he's important enough to play god? You're a sideshow, a monster, a freak," he snarled. "I tried to be a strong male influence for him, someone who could change him, make him normal, make him back to the way God intended-" Maui snapped with a roar, reared back and slammed Gaston against the wall beneath his arm hard enough that Gaston's breath caught in his chest.

"Lefou is just fine the way he is," Maui said. "He's a better man than you'll ever be." Gaston wheezed, squinted up at him.

"Oh, that's perfect. Are you in love with him?" he asked, mockingly. Maui grit his teeth so hard they creaked. Gaston seemed to realize his mistake when the solid, unmoving arm pinning him to the wall slid up to press against his throat.

"Since you don't seem to get the position that you're in right now, 'Captain,' let me make it clear to you: I've seen the scar you left on him. I've killed bigger, badder monsters than you when I was a child. Now you've got three seconds to tell me why I shouldn't just pop your head off your shoulders and find out if people can still die down here." He pressed his arm harder against Gaston's neck, relishing in the gargled-out rattle that escaped the man, the hands that had about as much chance of moving his arm as a couple of beetles.

Gaston's face was turning purple, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head, when Maui felt a sharp, painful snap at his shoulder. He looked down and saw Mini frowning at him and tapping his foot.

"Look, my guy, you saw him." Mini looked at him, and the ink shifted to make him look like Lefou, briefly. Maui's grip slackened at even the slight rendition of his partner. "Yeah, but come on, short stack's not here right now. He's not gonna find out about this." Mini gestured. "Well, no, but it'll make me feel better!" Maui argued. Mini remained unmoved. "...Fine. Can I smack him around a little at least?" Mini thought about it, then shrugged and nodded. Maui looked back at Gaston, who had been watching his fate be decided between the demigod and one of his tattoos. "You're lucky he's a better man than you are," Maui said. "Because I'm not."

He pushed his weight against Gaston's chest until he felt something give and snap and Gaston cried out in pain, and then he let the man fall to the floor with his broken ribs.

"I don't care if you rot down here. But if you ever make my Lefou shed another tear, I'm not going to hold back next time. Got it, tough guy?" Gaston wheezed, writhing in pain. Maui kicked him out of the path with a nudge of his foot. "Good talk."

[(Anonymous)]

ghost host cucks fordsquared

[(Anonymous)]

preston northwest seduces the narrator

bonus: this somehow leads to a hansadeer-esque redemption arc

[pavlovsdad]

"Check out my wad."

The Narrator did.

"Very nice."

"Thank you."

[(Anonymous)]

AU where Wander is in round 2 and attempts to befriend The Narrator.

Rod Serling/Walt Disney

[(Anonymous)]

Possibly involving kinky dreamscape sex Bonus points for Daddy kink

[(Anonymous)]

Ursula/Merlin, with as much magic/tentacles involved as you so desire.

[(Anonymous)]

Sarah Sanderson actually manages to seduce somebody.

[(Anonymous)]

Belle/Kylo first kiss

[(Anonymous)]

crossover with airlocked

[(Anonymous)]

Belle is polyamorous with a good number of the cast.

[(Anonymous)]

Disney Ronpa/FM Round 2

Jack and Sally long for each other while being trapped in their respective murdergames.

[(Anonymous)]

Stan Round.

Every participant is Stan Pines at some point in his life or in different outfits (fishing stan, suit stan, underwear stan, wax stan, disco stan, hunkle stan (aka scaryoke), mayoral candidate stan, etc)

initially it looks like there’s just one very lost and confused Ford in the middle, but the gloves don’t fit right

[(Anonymous)]

kybelle. mutual loss of virginity.

[(Anonymous)]

dr facilier/frollo

frollo had to get his powers somehow

[(Anonymous)]

"Monsieur Facilier…"

The name brought shivers to Frollo’s spine, sweet, sinful shudders coursing through him as he sunk to his knees in front of the tall, purple suited man.

"Allow me to relive you of...your sins." The judge reached up with long, spidery fingers to undo the zip of Facilier's trousers. Facilier shuddered, eyelids lowering over those dark, liquid eyes. Letting his mouth gap open, Frollo leaned forward to take Facilier's member into his mouth, his moist lips wrapping around his cock with a husky groan.

The effect was immediate: he felt a warm, tingling sensation shooting from Facilier's cock and into his mouth. It filled his body with an exquisite heat, his stomach growing warm as it filled him. Letting out a long moan, Frollo pulled back, his mouth glistening with...glitter?

He felt good. He felt powerful. The judge rose to his feet, wiping at his mouth, hellfire written in his eyes.

"Thank you, Facilier. It's been a pleasure.

[gwenchman]

slams my hands down on the table

Survivorswap AU

[(Anonymous)]

Day Care AU. The hosts + Walt have to look after all these unruly children and try not to die in the process.

[(Anonymous)]

beardjobs.

[(Anonymous)]

While Wander and Sylvia are gone, who is to stop Lord Dominator from destroying their galaxy? Easy, she's distracted by episodes of Foolish Mortals.

I want to see her reactions to the murders and laugh when her ships die, basically treating this as a show.

[lepo]

gaston/kylo