#there might be lackey runs later !!!

[convexicalcrow]

finished pearl's last vod just before she started streaming again woooo let's go round two of dungeon secret hunting!!!!!

[r4spb3rr13s]

i saw the news :( however i have come to re-enter! So my mcbling angel, could we pretty please get a part 3 of meet mcbling hotties with maybe shigiraki, sabi, maybe a little twice, maaaybe a little gentle criminal.... i luv u and ur my bae as well cutie >3<

- 🍥 anon

villains meeting their mcbling gf

♱ shigaraki, twice

♱ pt.1 here pt.2 here

notes: dabi is in part one!! also this may be ooc 😔 and sorry bby but i have no clue how to write gentle criminal 😓

Tomura is in his usual spot, staring the TV down with enough rage to burn holes in the screen. Naturally, it’s because All Might is on screen. Like always.

The bar is in a low hum, filled with smoke from Dabi’s refusal to step out to huff on his cigarette. Spinner and Toga are playing cards, and her giggles bounce off the walls. Other than that, it’s fairly quiet.

Until the door creaks open. Then it’s silent.

And there… you stood. Awkwardly.

Tomura’s head snapped towards you with a sickening crunch resounding through the air. Any words he had reering up are stuck in his throat, though.

The light is shaping you like an angel. A very promiscuous angel, that is. A tight, pink dress hugs your curves and the platform wedges you have on accentuate every step your fake-tanned legs take.

“Uh… Himiko?”

Said girl squeals, and her chair scratches across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as she jumps up. Tomura watches as she runs up to you and wraps you in a hug.

“What the fuck…” Dabi trails off, eyes pointed at Tomura. Everyone is looking at Tomura, trying to gage his reaction. It snaps him out of his stupor.

“Toga, who is this?” He rasps out, pointing a lazy knuckle at you. His eyes barely flit over you, but when they do, you see a small bit of pink blossom on his pale face.

It’s weirdly cute.

Himiko squeezes you so hard you think she might suffocate you to death. I mean, you wouldn’t put it past her, but still.

“This is Y/n!!”

She is met with blank stares.

You roll your eyes and shrug her off, making her pout. Taking a cautious step forward, you catch Tomura’s eye - you know exactly who he is.

You’ve admired him for a while, and the League, in silence. You’ve been on chat rooms with a false IP address, watched their dark-web videos, heard their lackeys talking in the darker parts of town.

Himiko found you when you were talking to one of the lackeys, and surprise, surprise, took a liking to you. She gushed about the League, and weirdly…

You wanted in.

You strode forward, ignoring the room’s eyes on you - you were just focused on Tomura Shigaraki.

He watched you with stiff, darting red eyes. It was like he couldn’t decide where to rest his eyes - everytime he moved his gaze, there was your soft, glowy skin or something pink or patterned or your soft hair-

“Y/n L/n,” You said and held your hand out.

Tomura watched your hand as he leant on his own hand. His lip curled and you faltered. But, he fished out a thick-lined glove, slipped it on, and grabbed your hand.

His eyes fell on yours as your hands shook. The pink on his face was almost the same colour as your dress, and his cracked lip twitched.

“I’m here to join, by the way.” You clarify, heat rising to your own cheeks.

Your hand is still in his. Tomura notices and drops you like a hot pan, quickly looking away. He mutters a small, ‘okay’ and notions for a pen from Kurogiri - another member you’re familiar with.

Tomura scribbled something down with his thick glove on, muttering under his breath in a raspy, crisp voice. The sound cuts through the thick air and makes the hair on the back of your neck.

He stops writing and holds out the paper to you. It’s… a number. You almost facepalm.

You cock a brow, and Tomura goes pink again, but refuses to look at you.

He clears his throat, itching his neck absent mindedly. “I’m busy now. Call me later and we’ll talk about your membership.”

:::

Jin is tired. Spent. Exhausted. Fatigued. He’s practically swaying on his feet as he breathes in the smoke from his cigarette. He nods at Dabi as he walks past and enters the dingy bar.

If he could just close his eyes-

A loud whistle rings through the air, and for a startling moment, Jin thinks he’s getting hit on by the builders across the street. Until you come into view.

Your confident stride falters and he watched with an open jaw as you pause to scream at the men in hi-vis.

There’s a small, douchey part of him that can’t even blame them - you’re gorgeous!

Your tattered denim shorts sit low on your hips, and the majority of your torso is on show in the low light of dusk. A small, pink tube top is wrapped around your chest, and big jewellery jangled with every finger you jab as you scream.

Your verbal assault on the builders finally halts when they let out a hurried apology and decide to get back to work. With a sigh, you push your hair out of your face and move on.

Well, you would if there wasn’t another guy in your way.

He’s tall, muscular and blond, with eyebags that rivalled the purple of your velvet bag. The smoke from the cigarette in between his fingers is curling around his neck like a choker, and brought stark attention to his agape mouth. You scoff.

“What? Want your turn?”

“Yes please- no, no thanks-” He barks out, then covers his mouth. Pink spreads across his cheeks from under his hand, and you cock a brow.

“…Yes or no?”

“Yes-no-”

The poor guy seemed torn. He was muttering to himself now, back rigid and face pink. It was… endearing in a way.

You cast a short glance back to the builders, and Jin takes the moment to drink in the size of the silver hoops hung either side of your face. He could probably fit his hand through them, they’re so big. Or-

“Listen, you’re cute… so I’ll give you number,” You mutter and take a short step towards him. Your sparkly eyes search his face, and he curtly nods, still as pink as bubblegum. “Okay, just, if they ask, I was giving you directions.”

Again, he nods. Like a well behaved dog, you think.

The poor man is left in a mental battle watching you leave. He does know for sure, though, the paper clutched in his hand with your number on is becoming his most sacred possession.

:::

notes: THIS SHIT IS NOT PROOFREAD IM SORRY 😭

taglist: @marzkqx @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

[6okuto]

AFTER BECOMING YOUR BOYFRIEND

gn!reader | bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, iwaizumi, matsukawa, kageyama, yamaguchi, sakusa

BOKUTO can't stop grinning and kissing you. his hands are stuck either cupping your face or holding your hips. he plants quick pecks to your lips and feels his heart rate pick up at your laugh. "i'm really your boyfriend," he repeats, convincing himself he isn't dreaming.

AKAASHI's entire body relaxes as he says "thank god." he leans forward to rest his head against your shoulder and huffs a laugh at himself. you bring your hand up to run your fingers through his hair. “did you think i’d say no?” “i was scared you would,” he murmurs. “and i don’t think i could bring myself to try returning the gifts.”

ATSUMU excitedly changes your contact where he already put a heart next to your name to be your new title: "MY PARNTNR/BOYFIRND/GIRLFJEND" (awful spelling included and vital). he adds emojis like 😁🫂💯🔥 before taking a screenshot to send to his group chat. he won't talk about how he almost sent it to you and nearly had a heart attack.

OSAMU texts to ask “when did you know you liked me?” later that night. he bites his lip and his eyes shoot lasers into the dots that show you’re typing. an embarrassed smile appears on his face when you say “when u apologized over and over after almost hitting me with a ball the first time we met :) u were cute” because it really was a cringe-worthy introduction, but at least you both liked each other since the beginning.

IWAIZUMI can’t stop thinking of getting you a gift. thinking of giving you a gift every once in a while wasn’t unusual, but he tries really hard to get a hold of himself when he realizes he's scanning every store he walks past for something you might like. he fails, obviously, when you end up getting a gift every time you meet up for the next few weeks.

MATSUKAWA blurts out "seriously?" after you say yes. he tries to ignore how his face heats up when you tilt your head and laugh. you’re still laughing when he pulls you into him as if to hug you, only to start tickling you. he jokingly threatens, “don’t laugh at me, i’m your boyfriend,” when you yelp and hit his side.

KAGEYAMA can’t stop replaying the moment you guys officially start dating in his head, even and especially while practicing. he’s setting the ball when he thinks about how you smiled and suddenly forgets what he's doing. his face is red from being flustered and the volleyball smacking him on the forehead.

YAMAGUCHI, when he has the time, marks down the date in his calendar. butterflies flutter in his stomach as he types out "WE’RE DATING !!!!!! :)) " in the notes. it's been less than a day and he's already (over)thinking of what to do to celebrate the closest, reasonable anniversary, whenever that is. in a month, probably, he thinks.

SAKUSA’s glad he has a privacy screen protector because if anyone noticed how often he opened your chat to reread your texts he’d never live it down. there’s a small smile under his mask at your silly flirting memes, and just the thought of how your “take care of yourself!” messages are with him as your boyfriend in mind.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia

[queer-n-here]

back at it again at krispy kreme

so to start off, this request is very wild and specific and out of nowhere and will most likely be the only of its kind. I would suggest watching season 1 and 2 recap videos of Girl From Nowhere. NOW TO THE REQUEST

with a yandere reader (who is basically like nanno from the show i mentioned earlier) who stalks character of your choice 24/7, constantly tormenting them and their friends (who keep killing reader but reader just keeps coming back) until the character is worn down to where they are stockholm syndromed by reader, and reader finally claims what is his ♡

~🕷

Okay y'all, this is actually ��️ annon, bro wrote 🕷️ on accident again.

Also, bruv, this bomb ASS request has been sitting in my inbox for a while, and I must say, I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner. I was kind of running away from it without realising I was.

Q: Why were you running away?

A: Because I didn't wanna ruin it in a hurry 😭 I wanted to do it justice. Now, I will! (Hopefully)

Contents: Chuuya x Yandere!Stalker!Reader

Warnings: No smut, but has mentions of masturbation, stalking, obsessive tendencies, mentions of murder, blood, and more, Stockholm Syndrome.

You had been watching him for the longest time.

Chuuya Nakahara.

He was so fucking beautiful, you never wanted to take your eyes off of him. So you followed him around, setting your lackeys everywhere around him to report to you with even the minutest details of his days.

You followed him around yourself, too. Only you were allowed to watch from his bathroom ventilator as he showered or changed. Only you were permitted to peek through that one window in his bedroom and watch as he pushed a lucky dildo deeper and deeper into his ass, cock throbbing and twitching with want. Oh, the things you'd do to be that bit of silicon that slid in and out of his asshole as he trembled on the bed, huffing and panting.

Fuck, you were obsessed with him.

And you knew full well.

You were starting to get desperate, too. Just sneaking into his house when he wasn't there to wrap his boxers around your cock and jerk off wasn't enough anymore. So after hiding in the dark for a while, you decided to leave behinds hints.

The first one ever was the splatter of cum you'd left on his bed sheets. It had been a mistake, but even as you raised a hand to pull the sheets off the bed and hide the evidence, you couldn't help but pause.

Chuuya should know how much you loved him. He should know who owned him.

Thus, you left the stains right as they were.

That night, Chuuya returned from a hefty mission, tired and ready to collapse into bed. The sight of the half-dried cum stopped him.

"What the fuck?!"

You, watching from behind the bushes next to his bedroom window, smirked. Fuck yes.

Later, you became more and more bold. You starting leaving behind more proof of your presence, leaving behind sappy messages on his walls with spray paint, dropping photos of him that you'd taken in secret. You watched him break down from his window.

You chased him into a corner, forcing him to ask Mori for help. Even the Port Mafia had nothing on you, though. You continued leaving behind dirty underwear, condoms filled with your cum and stuff like that around his house.

Chuuya changed places, and you followed. He couldn't get rid of you no matter how much he tried, only running pathetically around with you right at his heels.

It was fun, but only for a few months.

At one point, only watching him from a distance had been enough for you. Now, you wanted him to see you, know you, fear you, want you. You were growing more and more greedy, you knew. And yet you couldn't stop yourself.

So one day, you showed Chuuya your face. You left behind a video clip for him, a video of you jerking off to his photos. Chuuya decided, enough is enough.

He decided to put his pride down and asked for Dazai to help. The latter might be a big piece of shit and a pain in the ass, but he was smart when it came to stuff like this. And so Dazai was involved.

You knew it, and Dazai knew that you knew you knew. It was a fun game of pretending to hide while both of you knew of each other's presence.

It wasn't long before Dazai caught you, though. You were pleasantly surprised by his wit. You two fought, and Dazai managed to kill you. As he turned around, thinking about teasing Chuuya about owing him for the rest of his life, he saw you standing beside him instead. His eyed widened, and he stepped back slightly.

"...How?" Was the only thing Dazai, the smartest man in the Port Mafia, could say.

You chuckled. "Pity you won't be able to find out."

And before he'd known it, he was on the ground, knocked out. You couldn't help but tread on his hands as you passed him a little. He got to be around Chuuya everyday, and here you were, working so hard every time you so much as wanted to see his face. Wasn't it unfair?

Either way, after that day, the Port Mafia increased security around Chuuya. If it had been anyone else, Mori would've just kicked them out, but this was Chuuya, one half of Twin Dark.

From then on, you had to be slightly more careful. But you couldn't control your greed either. You couldn't stop wanting him to see you in person, not just in the photos and videos that you left behind.

And so, one evening Chuuya came back home to find all the guards dead on his porch steps. His eyes widened, and he took a small step back.

The front door was open.

He wanted to run away, wanted to go back to the Port Mafia headquarters and report to Mori, but he thought he saw a shadow flash past the door in the house. He hesitated.

Was it rational for him to not run away? No. It was perhaps the craziest decision he'd ever made in his entire life. But he couldn't help but think internally, Fuck it, if he wanted to harm me, I wouldn't have been alive all this while.

And so Chuuya stepped over the corpses that decorated his front door, pushed open the door more, and stepped in.

You were sitting right there, on his couch, wiping your bloody hands with a handkerchief. You looked up when he entered.

And gods, he was even more gorgeous up close like this. You were used to watching him from afar, or through the cameras that you'd placed in his house, but never face-to-face. Fuck, you almost pounced on him right then.

As for Chuuya, he didn't know what to do. His heart was pounding so fast against his ribcage he was scared it'd stop for good. His palms were sweaty even as he fisted his hands, and his breathing was slightly laboured.

You stood up from the couch, walking closer to him. Somehow, he did not back away.

"Chuuya,"

The way you said his name, gods, what were you? Some sort of a siren? But sirens were supposed to sing, not stand in his house covered in blood and smile at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

"You're home." You raised a hand, caressing his cheek, leaving a smearing some of the blood on your hand against his pale skin. "Did you have dinner?"

"W-why are you doing this?" Chuuya managed to choke out, fuelled by his last dreg of rationality.

His eyes were red.

"Doing what, baby?" You cooed, smiling. "Chasing you? Because I love you, that's why."

Chuuya felt the back of his throat burning, and tried to fight back the tears that were already gathering in his eyes. "Why? Why, like this... Wha-"

He couldn't form coherent sentences, and stopped trying with a sniffle, tears starting to dribble down his face.

He looked pretty when crying, too.

You cupped his face with both your hands, tilting it upwards to make him look at you. "Because I can't help but want you so much, Chuuya. So much, that I'd have obliterated the Port Mafia if it hadn't been for the fact that you like those people."

Chuuya felt so tired, so exhausted. For almost half a year now he'd been running from you, running and running and running. He'd changed houses, gotten protection from the Mafia, even asked Dazai, for Christ's sake. And yet somehow you'd always gotten through it. He didn't want to run anymore. He wanted to sleep.

He wanted to rest.

He wanted to curl up and close his eyes and not have to worry about anything, not even the nightmares that had started because of you. He wanted to be carefree, the way he had been when he was a kid, poor but honest in the ugliest parts of Yokohama.

Chuuya didn't want to run anymore.

And so he collapsed, his knees buckling as more tears slid down his skin, onto his shirt. You caught him before he could hit the floor, and pulled him into an embrace. He was sobbing, his shoulders shaking and hands trembling.

"C'mere," You pushed his face into the crook of your neck.

Slowly, his hands rose, and for a moment you thought he would try to push you off. You braced for impact, preparing to restrain his hands if you had to. But then, all of a sudden, he wrapped his arms around your neck.

You froze for a moment, and then, a small smile climbed up your face. Chuuya was sobbing into your shoulder, clinging on to you as if for dear life. His fingers fisted in the material of your shirt as he muffled his whimpers against your skin.

He wouldn't run anymore.

That night, standing in the middle of Chuuya's eighth house that year, finally, you got what you wanted.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood and injury; threats of SA and abuse; allusions to past SA and abuse; sexual themes.

“Daryl.”

He reached behind himself, hand finding your arm to move you closer to his back. He needed to know you were right there. You were safe. With that threat— and that man was a threat —he trusted your safety to no one else. Not Rick. Not even Carol. 

The archer turned his head toward his shoulder, his eyes remaining forward. “If I tell ya to run, ya run.”  You didn’t reply, but he knew you’d heard. 

Jazz stood at the gate, his posture relaxed, his smile full of smug condescension. The one Daryl knew to be Todd stood beside him, arms crossed, looking every bit the bodyguard. Three men had emerged from the same suv while another five spilled from a second car— the car Daryl had traded for your freedom. They were quite clearly the lackeys, keeping the dead at a distance. 

“Is no one going to invite us in?” Jazz was staring down Rick, who gave a nod to Maggie. Her hesitance to follow the order was apparent but any sort of discourse couldn’t be displayed in front of outsiders. The eldest Greene walked the gate across, opening it wide enough for the vehicles and narrowing her eyes when they left the transportation behind. She held her ground when Jazz gave her an appreciative once over. 

“Mmm, you’d make a fine addition to my roster.” The man reached toward her face. 

“Don’t touch her.” Rick warned from the second gate. Jazz looked toward the man, disappointed to find Maggie had walked away to close the gate. 

“Rick, my friend, it’s good to see you.” The woman was quickly forgotten, Jazz holding open his arms.

“I wouldn’t exactly call us ‘friends.’” The former deputy kept his tone even, hand on the lock but not yet opening it. “Leave your weapons with her.” He gestured to Maggie. Both Jazz and Todd turned to look at her, the other men keeping their eyes forward. 

“Of course. Boys.”

Everyone had begun to gather around you, easing a portion of Daryl’s anxiety. Even Glenn had taken the spot to his left instead of pursuing a place closer to Maggie. She could handle herself. You could too, they knew that now, but staring into the face of your tormentors might have proven overwhelming for you. The archer wasn’t willing to take that chance. With Carol on his right and Beth behind you, he felt you were well protected. Not enough to lower his guard.

He had run outside with you, distracted and unprepared, his weapons back next to the mattress. He never came outside unarmed. Though he couldn’t afford to occupy his mind by berating himself at that moment, he made a mental note to do so later. 

Weapons on the ground, Jazz gave Rick an expectant look, smiling coolly in the face of the man’s hesitance before the lock and chain were removed and the gate was opened. 

“How’d you find us?” Rick kept his eyes trained on the leader, cautious and prepared. 

Jazz was walking slowly, damn near strutting while appraising the prison and the people he could see. His eyes landed on Daryl, and something shifted. Again when he saw you in the middle of your protective circle. 

The bowman inwardly cursed. 

Because he knew why Jazz was there. 

And gauging from the expression on the man’s face while he glanced back and forth between the two of you, he knew, too. 

Your feet were frozen to the ground, every imperfection of the concrete suddenly painful and grating against the skin of your bare soles. Jazz was watching you. Watching Daryl. With an interest that made you nauseous. 

“I’ll admit that it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.” Hands clasped behind his back, the club owner began an easy stride toward you. Daryl tensed in front of you while Glenn and Carol shifted with their guns. 

“Necessary?” Rick asked, glancing to ensure the other men were remaining still before following Jazz. 

“Mhm.” The man stopped in front of Daryl, giving the appearance of sizing him up before leaning slightly to direct his entire focus toward you. “Seems they’ve figured out how to control you well enough.”

The only thing you felt for a moment was confusion. Control? Oh, the bruises and cuts from training. He thought—

Daryl took a step over, blocking you from Jazz’s gaze. “Ya don’t look at her. Ya don’t talk to her. Understood?” 

There was a chuckle that made your blood run cold. You’d spent so long hearing that same sound just before something bad tended to happen. When you felt Beth’s hand on your shoulder, you realized how badly you were trembling. 

“No matter. It’s you I’m here to see anyway.” 

That in itself was peculiar, but even more strange to realize that Daryl didn’t seem surprised. 

“S’that right?” The archer asked indifferently. Jazz hummed with an air of annoyance. 

“Why did you come to see Daryl?” Carol inquired from your right. Her posture changed, body angling toward her best friend in a way you weren’t sure she even realized. 

“I’m glad you asked.” Gravel crunched beneath boots before you could make out your former captor’s back, hands still loosely held behind him. “You see, it had only been a few days since we were paid a visit by Rick and his friend here. In the dead of night, we woke to find our establishment up in flames. Lost several men, eight girls managed to escape while the others were too afraid of what awaited out in the world.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with us?” There was intentionally placed irritation in Rick’s question. 

“I’m getting to that.” Jazz was still calm, in a way that made your teeth itch. “Do you know what we found when we returned to see what could be salvaged?” It was rhetorical, and everyone knew it. While no one said a word, you saw Daryl tense even more. Jazz held out a hand toward Todd, the taller man reaching into his annoyingly clean jacket. 

A unified exclamation of whoa and easy erupted. Then came the silence; so quiet that you swore you could hear your heart attempting to restart after it froze the moment the charred bolt was held out in display. 

“Now, if you’re the sort of man I take you to be, integrity isn’t something you tend to forego. It’s important to you.” Jazz was inches from Daryl now, the bolt held between their faces. “So I’ll ask once. Does this belong to you?”

The tension was dizzying. You fought the urge to reach for the bowman, surround yourself with the veil of safety that only he could provide. 

“Daryl?” 

You could make out the slight turn of Daryl’s head as he regarded Rick for a brief moment before returning to Jazz. 

“S’mine.”

Rick’s shoulders slumped, disappointed in his friend for starting something. It was unfortunate but they would work through it. What worried you was the slip in Jazz’s flippant demeanor. It was quick, his indifference immediately schooled back into place. 

“All over that worthless thing?” The man indicated you with a dismissive wave. 

Daryl growled, ready to defend you, but you surprised even yourself by speaking up first. “I’m not worthless.” Your words lacked confidence, but speaking up in itself clearly irked the man. Daryl twisted to look at you, a small smirk lifting one side of his mouth. 

“Knew we should’ve trained you better. We were too soft with you.”

“Soft? You tortured me! Let men rape me! You let them beat me and tear me and cut me! That’s not soft, you pompous jackass!” The archer remained your steady wall, unmoving and unwilling to let the clawed hands of your nightmares raise a single finger toward you. 

Jazz threw back his head in laughter. “You finally got some bite. Maybe I’ll pull out those teeth when we get back to the new club.”

Your blood didn’t just run cold, it froze in your veins. Any and all ability to speak was lost somewhere between your throat and tongue. 

“She ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.” Daryl snarled at Jazz, bearing his teeth like an animal. Instead of stepping into the man’s space, the archer stepped backwards, nearly pressing his back into you. 

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Rick joined the small circle that protected you. Jazz crossed his arms, entirely nonplussed. 

“The way I see it is you owe me eight girls. But just give me her and we’ll be square.”

“No deal. Y’ain’t takin’ her or anyone else.” Daryl was shifting his weight back and forth, amping himself up for a fight. You steeled your own nerves, prepared to defend yourself and your home— even if you were barefoot and in your t-shirt and sleep shorts. 

Jazz smirked, unsettling every ounce of resolve you’d managed to build. “Pity.” Uncrossing his arms, he raised a hand in the air and titled his wrist forward, a finger extending toward Daryl. 

You barely heard the shot, paid no mind to everyone springing into motion. The white hot burn on your cheek didn’t even fully register. It was the blood that sprayed onto your face and clothes that held you immobile. It was Daryl’s agonized shout and the way he crumbled to his knees. You cared little for the fact that it left you open for attack. 

“Daryl!” Your knees stung from the bite of the concrete. There was already a circle of blood just beside where the archer’s forehead was pressed against the ground. He was groaning through heaving breaths. His hair shielded a little of his face but the skin you could see was a mixture of blood-splattered and pale. “Daryl, where are you hit? Let me see!” 

“Run.” He panted, his right hand swatting yours away from his left arm. 

“I’m not—”

“Run, damnit! Go!” The bowman pushed himself up, swaying on his knees. His left shoulder was steadily bleeding. When you met his eyes, the kindness you always saw had given way to fear. And you knew, you knew it wasn’t for himself. 

You reached for his face but pulled back with a nod, getting to your feet. There was chaos all around, weapons and orders being screamed. None with which Jazz intended to comply. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He was talking to you. You hesitated, remembering belatedly how Daryl had taught you that hesitation would get you killed. “My man is just in that treeline there, girly. He’ll put a bullet in your boyfriend’s brain before you can take the first step.” That had you turning, despite Daryl’s protests. 

Your face ached. The bullet had grazed you after tearing through the archer’s shoulder but that hardly mattered. If you ran now, Daryl was dead. Maybe the others could take down Jazz and his goons but not before Daryl would be killed. He wasn’t what the man had implied but he was certainly more than a friend. He was your family. They all were, but Daryl was special. 

“If I go with you, you’ll leave them alone? You won’t hurt Daryl?” 

The man laughed. “Well, we won’t make it worse for him.” Everyone was panicking, not knowing whether to lower their weapons, fire, run. “You have my word, darlin’.” Jazz’s word meant jack shit, but you couldn’t gamble with Daryl’s life. You managed a step before a tight grip encircled your wrist. You knew who that hand belonged to before you turned around to actually witness the desperation in Daryl’s eyes. 

“Don’t do it. Don’tcha go with him.” He winced. He was holding you with his injured arm. The tears that had been collecting on your lashes began to fall as you knelt in front of him, gently working his fingers loose. 

“I have to go or he’ll kill you.” You said loudly enough for only him to hear. 

“I ain’t worth you goin’ back to that hell. Ya need to run. Y’know the ways out, y’know where to hide. Carol taught ya, I know she—” His voice failed when you lifted his hand to your uninjured cheek, nuzzling it with your eyes closed before kissing the top of it. 

“Thank you, Daryl.” Gently placing his hand down, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, ignoring the blood. “Goodbye.” He was shaking his head, eyes wide and alarmed. You squeezed Carol’s elbow in passing, sharing a nod. She ran to the archer’s side and struggled to keep him subdued, calling on Glenn and Rick to help. You passed by Big Jazz, ignoring his devious smile. 

“Y/N! Y/N, don’t!” 

You ignored Daryl’s pleas and instead listened to the first gate closing behind you, smiling gently when Maggie met your gaze with her own shining eyes. The second gate opened and you shrugged off Todd’s hand on your shoulder, refusing to let your friends see you leaving as the same broken girl you were when you’d arrived. 

You weren’t her anymore. 

And once you were gone and your friends were safe— Daryl was safe —then Jazz and Todd would be introduced to who you had become. 

“I gotta go! Fuck!” Daryl tried to sit up, a jolt of pain sending him back down to the mattress. He didn’t know where this new building was. How could he have been so careless? He had been so damn determined to keep his word about burning the place to the ground that he hadn’t collected his bolts. He had gone on a supply run, but he had already made up his mind. He had decided what he would do that first day when he carried you. 

“Take it easy, son.” Hershel advised, standing as close as he dared while Rick and Glenn held the archer down. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re in shock. I can’t in good conscience tell you that I am okay with you going anywhere.”

“I don’t give a fuck! They’ll kill ‘er!” 

“Come on, man. Just let him look at you. We’ll figure it out!” Glenn pleaded, struggling to hold Daryl’s uninjured arm. 

“We all care about her, brother.” Rick wasn’t having it any easier. With each movement, more blood oozed from the wound, but the archer felt nothing other than worry and guilt. He was numb to the physical pain, the ache in his chest far outweighing it. 

“Get the fuck off’a me!”

“Daryl Dixon, you stop that right now!” Carol’s voice seemed to cut through the chaos like a knife, strong and authoritative. He froze, all the fight draining from him with one look at his best friend’s face. Carol placed a hand on Glenn’s forearm, nodding in answer to his silent question of whether or not to let go. 

Daryl rolled his head toward her, face pale and chest heaving. “They’re gonna kill ‘er. We can’t just sit here an’ do nothin’.”

“I know.” She exchanged places with Glenn, sending a calm glance to Rick. The former deputy understood and released his hold to step back. “We’ll find her, but you won’t be any good to her if you bleed out or get an infection. We’ll come up with a plan and take a group while you,” she held up a hand to silence the protests that started to roll off his tongue, “while you get some rest and heal.”

“Y’ain’t leavin’ without me.” He countered, struggling to keep his eyes open. He knew they would. They cared about you too, but he knew they would wait. They would plan carefully and by then, it could be too late for you. Losing the battle against unconsciousness, he had already made up his mind.

He would leave the minute he opened his eyes again. 

And god help every single one of those motherfuckers when he found you. 

“Looks like they learned how to deal with you well enough.” Jazz chuckled from the passenger seat without looking at you. You sat between two of his men, hands folded on your lap. 

“No.” You answered simply. 

The man clicked his tongue. “You know I don’t like that word, baby.”

“I don’t give a shit what you like. And I’m not your baby.”

Jazz finally twisted in his seat to regard you. Against every instinct, you refused to lower your head, raising your chin defiantly. 

“I’d cut out your tongue when we take those pretty teeth but then you’d be shit at sucking dick.” You curled your lip but remained silent. “If memory serves, you’re quite the fan of ol’ Todd’s knife.” There was a flinch, almost imperceptible but when that sick smile spread across his face, you knew he’d seen. “There it is. You’re still my good girl down deep. Don’t worry. We’ll dig her out of there. We have nothing but time.”

Your fingers itched to curl into fists but you stayed still, eyes narrowed. Don’t bet on that. 

You weren’t fool enough to think that Daryl and the others wouldn’t come for you. Weeks ago, while still captive in the dark cage of your mind, you would have been convinced they didn’t care; that Daryl and the other men would leave you to your fate because your scarred cunt wasn’t worth the effort. Now you knew different. There were still good people in that broken, terrifying world and somehow, you had been blessed enough to end up with the best of them. 

Your thoughts turned to Daryl, bleeding and begging behind you as you had walked away. Had they managed the wound? You inwardly smiled at the thought. Had they managed Daryl enough to even be able to manage the wound? Stubborn man. You could clearly see Carol dragging him by the collar of his shirt toward the prison door while he protested. 

You could only hope you’d see him again. 

“What did the rugged one think of that Picasso pussy anyway?” You shook from your thoughts and glared at Jazz, meeting his amused eyes. “You must have put on a real show. Shown him what you could really do. He burned down my club. Tried to shield you from me.” He laughed, genuine amusement behind the action. “Fat lotta good it did him. But tell me, did he like Todd’s artistic expression? Did he keep you all to himself or share you with his friends?”

You did smile then. “They never touched me.”

Jazz scoffed, suddenly stoic, personally offended that your abuse hadn’t continued once you were free of him. “Someone did.” You knew he meant your current appearance. 

“Not every man needs to compensate for what they are lacking. Not every woman feels the need to spread her legs to earn her place.” Your smile fell away. You were poking the bear now. “No, Jazz, they never touched me.”

His expression said he wouldn’t ask again. “That’s a shame. More work for us to break you in again.” He turned to face the windshield. To anyone else, he would appear unaffected. You, though; you could see the tick in his jaw, the way his hand curled into a fist. “We’re up to the challenge though, sweetheart.”

Me, too.

It was dark when Daryl felt the heavy weight of awareness begin to filter in dully. His shoulder throbbed, his head pulsed. But he woke with the image of you walking away in the forefront of his mind. 

He was alone. They had left him alone to rest. At some point, they must have managed to get some painkillers in him. He felt like his brain was surrounded and filled with cotton, movements slow and sloppy. 

With a great deal of effort, he succeeded in sitting up, shaking his head as if the effects of the medication in his system would somehow disappear. It didn’t matter. He was leaving. 

Heaving his tired body upright, he staggered, vision swimming. He needed his weapons. He needed the keys to his bike. But first, he needed to make it to his perch before they came to check on him. Someone was awake. He wasn’t fool enough to think they’d just sedate him and go to sleep. They were likely planning their next move. Without him. He had to be careful and quiet. And fast.

One foot in front of the other, he considered it a win to make it to his space without face-planting. Goddamn them and those stupid pills. He fumbled with the gun and knife holsters, frustrated with his slow progress. Every second was precious time wasted, every minute could mean a new mark on your body, a new scar for you to bear. It could be the moment Jazz decided you weren’t worth the effort at all. 

He damn near cried out strapping his crossbow to his back. Luckily, his right shoulder would bear the weight. There was no time for provisions, he couldn’t carry them if he tried. He only grabbed a first aid kit and a canteen of water, letting his bag hang from his right shoulder as well. The archer nearly tumbled down the steps but made it by clutching the railing. 

There was no way he could take the bike like this. He couldn’t take a car either. He wouldn’t succeed in getting the gates open and shut before whoever was on watch stopped him, not while this slow and uncoordinated. He would need to go through the tombs and exit on the opposite side of the prison. Jesus, he was probably heading out on a suicide mission. 

You were worth it. That had been decided long ago. 

As he quietly made his way through the deceivingly quiet hallways, he thought back on the day he’d met you. Small and withdrawn, barely clothed. Calling him “sir” every breath. You’d probably never know that he resented the title because the utterance of it from your lips made his cock twitch. It made him feel ashamed, guilty. You had been so afraid of him, of everyone. All he had wanted was for you to be safe. Even in the beginning when he had tried to cut you loose and you had followed. 

He had only wanted you to be safe. 

Now, you were different. Stronger, capable. And the feelings he had fought against for so long remained. He couldn’t promise himself he’d acknowledge them for what they were even once you were home and safe. 

He just wanted you back. 

Using his right hand, he sank his knife into the skull of the first walker, the growls and shuffling feet of several more signaling he was in for a battle just to make it out to begin his search. 

He would make it because you needed him. 

And he needed you to fight long enough for him to find you. 

[separatist-apologist]

What are your favorite monster fics? I’ve read all of yours and you have left me craving it.

You can't go wrong with any of these, and they are also my personal favorites:

On Waves of Blue by @kingofsummer93 [elucien]

Elain is bored of her mind-numbingly dull life as Princess of Mushroom Kingdom. The only excitement she's ever known is the threat of the great fire-breathing King Koopa, intent on making her his bride.

Is it so wrong, then, that she doesn't fear his return?

To Tango With The Devil by @iambutmortal [feysand]

For two years, Feyre’s been obsessed with the demon statue in the church. It haunts her dreams, even on the eve of her wedding. To bad the statue’s just as obsessed with her.

Bow Down by @shadowisles-writes [elucien]

When one of Elain's rituals releases more magic than usual, a much bigger demon than what she has ever protected herself against comes to her door. No amount of hidden traps and talismans can protect her from what he wants to take.

My Heart of Stone by @c-e-d-dreamer [nessian]

“Why do you run from me, my mate?” the gargoyle asks, tilting his head and sending his dark hair cascading over one shoulder.

Nesta feels hysterical, fear rising like bile in the back of her throat, but somehow she’s able to choke out the words, “what did you just call me?”

Howl by @iftheshoef1tz [azris]

When Azriel suspects that werewolves are behind the disappearance of his brother, he turns to the only werewolf expert he knows. Unfortunately for Azriel, Eris might be the werewolf he's been looking for.

Smite My Enemies by @abraxos-and-ataraxia [nessian]

Nesta summons a creature to obliterate her enemies, but quickly finds another use for the demon that appears.

A Woman So Heartless by @velidewrites [nessian]

When the Goddess of the Underworld grants a mortal General an extended stay in the land of the living, she doesn’t expect him to come back with another deal — one she has no idea will ruin her life forever.

Bejeweled by @thesistersarcheron [feysand]

Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him.

He doesn’t expect to find Feyre, a faerie made of crystal who leads him on a chase deeper and deeper into the mines as the Rite’s magic overcomes him.

Meet Me In The Woods by @paranoidbagel [feysand]

Returning to the ancient forests surrounding his ancestral home in the Scottish highlands, Rhys quickly discovers how the hunter becomes the hunted when a bloodthirsty Scottish faerie turns her ravenous sights on him.

The Music of the Night by @the-lonelybarricade [feysand]

It's Feyre's first year as an elligible maiden for the village reaping. In order to escape the chance of being chosen, Feyre rushes into a marriage with Lord Tamlin. She is terrified on her wedding night, but foruntately she is spared from consumating her marriage when she is pulled into a strange, erotic dream with an enchanting creature.

Paint It Red by @moodymelanist [nessian]

Nesta Archeron has been thirsting for revenge against Tomas Mandray since a fatal encounter in November 1940. When he suddenly reappears decades later, she finally has the perfect opportunity to make him pay for what he’s done. Her only problem? She and her friends aren’t powerful enough to take Tomas and his lackeys down on their own…

Cassian Valladares is the deadliest vampire hunter Windhaven has seen in a generation. When Nesta approaches him with a plan to kill her ex-fiancé, he’s initially hesitant – he wants nothing to do with leeches, especially one who almost got him killed. But as the bodies start piling up, Cassian and his brothers are forced to reconsider…

Will Nesta and Cassian be able to put aside their differences long enough to work together? Or will they find themselves consumed by something else entirely?

Crow Song by @damedechance [gwynriel]

Three years ago, Gwyneth Berdara became the ward of the Night Institute, a band of hunters led by Rhysand who work to rid the world of vampires. After one fateful night where Gwyn unwittingly welcomes one such creature into their home, she strikes a deal with Azriel, one that is just as likely to condemn them as it is to save them.

What The Shadows Hide by @shadowsxgwynriel [gwynriel]

When Gwyn goes out on the night of Calanmai to search for a missing priestess, she’ll soon find out that something lurks in the shadows...

[cookietrains]

Klown Headcanons: (Killer Klowns from Outer Space, 1988)

General Headcanons: 

(TW for this section of headcanons. There are mentions of Klowns killing people/ animals, topics of mating/ breeding brought up - not explicit) some of these headcanons melt into more observation territory, but I try to expand on what I've learned either by the film or game. Also, I'm new to the Killer Klowns world, I've always known about Killer Klowns, but it never seemed interesting to me until I saw the Klowns. They're absolutely adorable, and I would die for them.

Each Klown has their own choice of comedy, it's like their second language. This is also a significant way of finding mates amongst each other, trying to impress their partners with laughs. I will list the Klowns' different types of humor below when I talk about each individual Klown. 

Every Klown has their own unique ability, that they learn over time to perfect it/ make it stronger. These abilities are learned in their youth and it's unique to the one Klown who has it (a lot of powers are similar but no two abilities are the same) some abilities can be taught to other Klowns, some can't.  

Lackeys (from the game) are a thing on their planet and serve as the Earth equivalent as an intern. The Lackeys go on invasion missions to learn how to later in life take over planets. This category of Klowns are substantially younger than the main cast of Klowns that take over Earth. There can be older lackeys but it's not very common and they are more likely to be sent back home because they’re a bit too slow for the younger Klowns. Proving to be invaluable to the team. 

They need to be cold. It’s due to their atmosphere back on their planet. Their bodies have to be colder to survive. Their version of a cool 71°F is about 62° .Around 50-60 degrees, which is perfect for them.

Klowns do not need water. Unlike humans, Klowns can have water but it has zero nutritional value. Unless it had a good bit of sugar in it. Klowns get their main source of energy from sugar. Their choice of their main food being human is because human blood is the sweetest compared to creatures of different planets. Adding cotton candy sugars to melt them down is like adding 8 bags of sugar to a gallon of sweet tea. To a Klown however, it's like having 4 protein shakes. 

There are certain foods Klowns would either have a natural allergen to, or they would be very adverse to it. I think one of these foods would be fish. I think a big reason for them hating fish is because it wouldn't melt right in the cocoons and would ruin the flavor. It's hard to make a fish sweet. It would be wasteful to the cocoon materials. If they're not allergic to the food, giving them one of these foods would make them violently ill. I like to think if a food they eat has too much salt in it would have this effect.

Speaking of their food, they also enjoy hunting humans the most for the chase. Nothing runs quite like people when they are freaked out. This is where the sadistic side of the Klowns really show (Some more than others). It’s just fun for some of the Klowns to play around with their food before finally cocooning them. Also, as seen in the film, no one is safe. Children and pets included. They're especially disrespectful to law enforcement/ anyone they would deem their rulers. 

This is already alluded to in the film, but I really like the idea that Klowns have already been visiting Earth (and other planets) for centuries before the events of the film and this is where the idea of Earth clowns came from. I’d like to add other things some poor souls might have gotten ideas from because they escaped the Klowns would probably include balloons, cars, the circus in general, the idea of aliens. A variety of things have accidentally been introduced to humans by Klowns over the many, many years they've tried to kill them. 

There are dinosaurs on their planet (as seen in concept art from Charles Chiodo) . I think this is so cute. I love dinos !!! Gushing aside, I’d like to add to this also. I think they also have other extinct animals on their planet, like mermaids, unicorns, mammoths, dodos, ect. I also think they actually have cryptids on their planet and the Klowns are not the scariest things on their planet. Some Klowns keep these creatures as pets also and they take animals from other planets as souvenirs/ keep them as pets if they don’t die from the different atmosphere. 

There's various ways of having and raising their offspring on their planet. The babies can either be made in hoards in a breeding facility. The facility is mainly used for invasion trips, making plenty of eggs / popcorn babies for the Klowns to take on their trip to distribute across the invaded planets. The Klowns don’t look down on either which way their babies are made, but most Klowns (if they’re not planning on going on an invasion) they typically prefer to have one mate and their own set of offspring to themselves. They mate for life with only one partner and they have two options on raising their offspring. They can either raise them themselves, or they can be given to a care center, where there are Klowns who specialize in caring for the little Klowns of various stages. They sometimes also engage in child exchange - where the Klowns give their offspring to a couple who cannot naturally have offspring. 

All Klowns are like family. Towards other species, they are cold blooded and cruel, but to each other they treat all other Klowns like family. Sure there are fights, but it's usually quickly resolved. There just isn't any sense in their own species fighting or killing one another. Obviously Klown death happens by the hands of other Klowns, it’s just very rare and odds are it would happen by the hands of a higher ranked Klown.  

Klowns CAN pierce their skin, but very few have it done (Rosebud had her ears pierced, from what I could see) Tattoos aren't a thing for Klowns. I feel like if Klowns were gonna have tattoos, Spikey would have some. 

Each Klown has their own specific set of knowledge and interests when visiting other planets. Some of them, while hunting, also want to explore the amenities of their prey (Like when Shorty and Rudy were rummaging through the convenience store) and some of them want nothing more than to just wreak havoc (Spikey and Slim come to mind when I think of the more chaos causers’). 

I know it’s a common theory, but I personally do not believe the capturing of humans through the balloon method has anything to do with turning a human into a Klown. The balloon serves as a capture tactic, specifically towards women (as far as we see in the film), but there’s no concrete proof that Klowns are taking only female humans in balloons. And I definitely don’t think they’re using humans as anything other than food. Perhaps accessories or study purposes. I think balloons serve as a type of way to store humans (like how we put cold foods in the fridge or freezers). The balloon slowly suffocates the human, killing them. But there may also be a type of air in the balloon that marinates the human/ makes them taste a certain way they enjoy. (Yes, i know i made my oc a human turned Klown. It's still fun to play around with the ideas. And it’s an interesting concept, I just don’t think it’s logical to the film, ya know?)

Just like on their invasion trip in Crescent Cove, Klowns are just as clumsy and awkward on their own planet. Their movements are supposed to be looked at as silly and uncoordinated (as per a clown). There are some causes to their mobility, the air pressure between worlds being vastly different. 

On their planet they don’t have shelves or stores like human versions. So none of the Klowns have to worry about being clumsy and falling over things. 

They don’t have a set schedule for minor things like sleeping. If you’re tired, go to bed. In Rudy’s case, he takes small naps throughout the entire day. Like 20 minute naps every 3 or 4 hours. 

All Klowns' noses are severely sensitive. It's a bit of a bump in the road for them (Evolutionary wise) when the most important part of their anatomy that could immediately kill them is smack in the middle of their face. Their noses are sensitive, but hitting them on the nose won’t kill them immediately. It has to be the force of, say a bullet. A very powerful, quick force. Along with their nose, they are also sensitive to loud noises. 

I like the headcanon that the Klowns nuzzle their mate's nose as a sign of immense trust and bonding, that’s just a cute thought. I love it. I’d like to add to the headcanon that if a Klown obtains a mate, even early into the relationship, they instinctively cover each other's nose to protect them.

Klowns look a lot like their larva self. They are born with pre determined facial markings and a hairstyle, they just won't be more prominent until they get older.

Headcanons Relating to Specific Klowns: 

(These headcanons include general headcanons, romantic headcanons, hypotheticals all mixed into one) TW:// some entries may include NSFW implications, mentions of death or killing, creepy Klowns that murder. Mentions of depression and suicidal ideation (not explicit, but mentioned) 

Rudy:

In terms of his type of comedy, Rudy likes/ uses a mesh of dark comedy and dry humor. Very deadpan and oblivious to his own jokes but loves it when his mate uses it. He thinks it's hilarious. 

He loves saying things that would normally be enthusiastic, but he says them deadpan. Just totally uninterested. 

Personality wise I think Rudy likes to study things and take his time learning what he can. As seen from when he first encountered the ladies at the store, he’s just as much a prankster as his comrades, tricking the girls into thinking he was an animatronic. Very fast thinking on his part. In general, he's very patient and observational. 

He is very nonchalant about EVERYTHING. Big Top could be crashing and burning, but Rudy: 😑

Would be a goofy dad. “Are ya winning, son?” Always making modern references and his kid just looks at him like no plz dad ;; ur killing me. He loves his child though. Very protective, very affectionate towards them. Cuddles are reserved for his mate and baby only, obviously.

I love the headcanon Rudy is a sleepy little guy ;; Because it’s so true. Look at him, look at those eyes. Sleep deprivation eyes. 

Giving him coffee would most definitely not work on him. Not because he’s an alien life form, but because he has adhd. Rudy gives me major adhd vibes. He's so busy around the ship because he is forgetting things almost all the time due to this.

He likes to learn through television. He’ll get so invested in what’s on the screen, he’ll forget what he was doing in the moment (someone please let him know not to trust everything he hears on media) 

Is the most curious of the Klowns, being more interested in sitting in the background and watching, BUT-

Rudy, in his free time, also likes to move around and would love a partner who dances along with him randomly or sings with him. As seen in The Dickies’ music video, Rudy is actually kind of a “star of the show” type guy, despite being more reserved on hunts, not doing anything too insane.

This shows me Rudy values stealth in hunting. Being a trapper would require stealth and observation from afar. But outside hunts? Rudy is… well, a clown! He likes cutting back and having fun with his coworkers. 

Likes hanging out with Shorty and Bibbo specifically. I could see the 3 of them causing chaos at an amusement park, having a blast on the scarier rides and all three of them raiding the concession stands. 

If Rudy was to take an interest in anything humans created, it would be rubix cubes or puzzles in general. 

Works with babies on his planet so he’s very gentle and patient when teaching others things. He is very, very hard to upset or frustrate 

Would be a pro at pictionary, not because he can draw well but because he thinks outside the box quickly. 

The way he shows his mate appreciation is through gift giving. In his mind, his mate deserves the world, so Rudy goes out of his way getting things for his mate. Would do the thing where he would find a pretty rock on the ground and would give it to his mate because it reminded him of them. Very cute. He’s also very doting to his mate. Rudy’s love language is quality time. He loves spending time with his mate. He loves cuddling with them and spending time watching shows with them. 

He also really likes it when his mate remembers small things about him. He really appreciates their efforts to think about his interests. 

I feel like Rudy would enjoy long story shows or shows he can get invested in with his mate and stick with it for a while. Shows like Grey's Anatomy, Criminal Minds, Game of Thrones. Honestly with Rudy, the more dramatic the show the better.

Spikey: 

Type of humor: Spikey uses more low brow humor. He says out of pocket things for the sake of being funny. Being a Klown, most of it is funny, it’s just random and out there.

Theater Kid Energy and a thrill seeker. The amusement park rides are not enough in terms of excitement to him. Direct him to the nearest 350 ft rollercoaster where you have to lay down (eugh… just thinking of that has me 😵‍💫)

Spikey, like Rudy, would love a mate who would randomly dance with him. He's not too much of a singer, but if you like to sing and you sing to him, even if it's “not the best” he would melt because of your voice.

Would not be interested in being a parent. The idea to him never looked appealing. He’s just not father material in his own eyes.

If by chance, Spikey ended up having a child and his mate was adamant on keeping it, he would be extremely doubtful of himself. Constantly questioning if he’s doing something wrong and terrified he would accidentally hurt his child. He ends up being the BEST parent. These are just internal thoughts that scare him. He’s very doting to his mate and child, always making sure all their needs are met and spoiling his little family. After a while, these thoughts would leave Spikey’s head and he would be a more confident parent. 

Would 100% do puppet shows for his child to calm them down and watch cartoons with them. 

Isn’t depressed but has thought of death more than once in life. Wouldn’t say he’s depressed at least. He’s just interested in the thought of what happens after they die? Klowns don’t really have a “God” per say… so I think a lot of Klowns would go through this thought process at least once. 

Is immune to being sick. Man has never thrown up in his life. 

^ From the previous point, he would be bitter about never being sick. Would feel excluded and would definitely ask “Am I Not Good Enough To Be Sick?? >:I 

He wants to be the surprising one out of the bunch and makes a big deal out of everything. In almost a cry for attention sort of way.  

He would be the most caring lover out of all the Klowns. Spikey gives off touch starved energy to me. He makes it up with his comedy type and being a lapdog to his mate. Constantly following them and making sure everything is okay all the time. Spikey is the type of partner to give his mate a goofy grin and wave from across the room, even if you've been together for years. Never leaves the puppy love phase for his mate. 

If he knew what it was, Spikey would love any sort of action video game. Some games I feel like he would enjoy are Contraband Police, GTA 5, Maneater, Outlast and Resident Evil. He would surprisingly be scared shitless out of the scarier games, but wouldn't admit to it. 

IS A TERRIBLE DRIVER. Do not let this man behind the wheel of ANY vehicle! Invisible or otherwise. Would treat street signs as checkpoints.

At home, he has like 10 exotic pets. At least one of them being a balloon animal that he was too proud of to let go. Don’t worry, he’s a really good animal dad.

On occasion Spikey really likes eating bananas. He HAS to leave the peel just lying around so he can watch someone else's downfall. Literally. 

Would be a huge cuddle bug. He wouldn’t want offspring but he would worship his mate. 

And he isn’t shy about showing others he’s in love. He’s all over his mate anywhere they go. Whether that’s cuddles, holding hands, kisses, scalp massages, shoulder rubs. If his mate is uncomfortable with PDA, he can learn to tone it down. But it must be made up in private, he just wants to be so close to his mate. Touch starved asshole. 

Does Drugs recreationally (loves if his mate joins him, but wouldn't love them any less if they didn't of course) 

If you can make him laugh, he’s putty in your hands. OR vice versa, if he really likes you and likes your laugh, he’ll be yours forever. He's a sucker for cut loose laughs. Ya know those unhinged, crazed laughs you can't control? It's his way of knowing you're comfortable enough with him to ugly laugh with him.

Gentle Hands! He has to have gentle hands to do the types of complex balloon animals he does and does not let his gifts go to waste on just the balloon animals, if you catch my drift. 

Cross dresses sometimes. He does not give a single shit about beauty standards, Klown or otherwise. ( I saw fem Spikey, now I suddenly have a huge crush on Spikey thnx ) 

In terms of being a mate, Spikey is very theatrical. In both the romantic sense and just being over the top in general. He makes a lot of grand gestures towards his mate.  

He loves cuddling and watching shows with his mate. He likes more comedic shows that will have him and his mate in stitches. He's not above watching cartoons, this man adores SpongeBob you can't tell me he doesn't. He gives off that he would enjoy movies like the Jurassic Park series (ya know what? If there's a monster in it, he's watching it), Godzilla, Eight Legged Freaks. 

Shorty: 

He Loves slapstick humor. Shorty loves it when a joke has been building up and he can see the outcome from a mile away but then when the joke happens it's funnier than you expect. Found his love for this type of comedy through accidentally watching a whole episode of Looney Toons.  

Absolutely uses his size to his advantage when hunting humans, knowing most of them have a soft spot for smaller creatures. Also uses this to his advantage in terms of being able to fit into smaller spaces (Pizza Box Scene). He loves popping out of places nobody expects him to be and I find that hilarious. 

Being a bit smaller than the others also gives him a few extra points for speed.

He canonically smells like pepperoni pizza, Sour candy and death. This is interesting, and I think this is a hunting tactic he uses. Covering himself with the scent of pepperoni pizza and candy, but his natural scent being death because he’s constantly killing people. 

I actually think Shorty would enjoy pizza and sour candy… together. He would like the most outlandish foods put together. Like peanut butter and mustard. 

Shorty, as a mate, would find the cutesy, cheesy stuff really sweet and endearing. Like late night walks in a beautiful place, being on the Farris wheel with his mate, cuddling up to them if they're scared. 

Shorty shows a lot of curious tendencies and likes tagging along with Rudy to check out places on their invasions. He steals some of Rudy’s souvenirs. 

Shorty and Rudy, on these trips, have become the best of friends. 

He loves niche things like paintings of dogs playing poker. Do they really do that? Are they broken when he sees them? Who thought of this?? 

He loves car shows, BUT make them clown cars. Can it throw pies? Does the beep sound funny? He’s in love. 

Will not tolerate bullies. In any scenario. He’s always rooting for the underdog. 

Shorty is the Klown that would love to have kids and would be a good parent

He loves having someone around who wants to be with him just as much. Shorty brings his kids everywhere with him (unless it's dangerous of course) 

Has a softer spot for animals than the rest of the Klowns, he thinks they're fascinating. Like birds and turtles are his faves. 

When it comes to movies or tv, Shorty really appreciates the beauty of the film. Things like the new Super Mario Movie comes to mind. He loves movies like that! Bouncy, bright and fun. 

Jumbo: 

Type of comedy for Jumbo is wordplay. He loves him a good pun, dad jokes are his weakness. Old school jokes are dear to him and he has a huge soft spot for them. 

Huge father figure to the main group, he lives for these invasion trips with “the boys”. 

He doesn't pick favorites, but out of everyone he talks to Slim the most 

Jumbo tolerates very little nonsense. Despite this, he is not easy to piss off. He’s spent a lot of time on the Big Top with Jojo and knows how to train his Klown comrades to catch and kill prey. 

Jumbo is the most conniving of all the Klowns. He is extremely vengeful and loves finding the pain of his prey funny. 

He doesn’t really like animals other than to eat. He needs sugar to live, but he prefers the chewy texture of the meat in his prey.  

Is the least emotional of the Klowns. He just doesn't have the time of day to care about miniscule problems. However, if he notices a Klown genuinely going through a hard time, Jumbo is one of the first Klowns to notice and take action. He’s a good listener and is good at lending some good advice. 

Best dad, in terms of making sure his child is safe. Wouldn’t be super interested in actively playing with his child, or watching their shows with them. But if his kid had a bully, he would be the first to know and the last to see the bully. But nobody’s gonna say anything. You even look at his child (or mate for that matter), he would show his frustrations with action. Protectively guarding his family, growling at the threat, mallet in hand to pummel them. 

Is not an animal person, would rather have a child than a pet. Sees pets as pointless. 

He doesn’t really have any interest in human made things, and wouldn't really like watching TV or digging through shops of any kind. 

He loves the chase for his prey, if he had a mate that would probably be his go to quality time. Or time in a familiar place to him, like the amusement park or a circus. 

He would show his mate he loved them by gift giving. He isn’t the most romantic Klown, but rest assured he absolutely loves his mate. 

Being one of the older Klowns, Jumbo has been on more invasion trips than the rest of the Klowns, so he knows the ropes of the hunt and the ship and teaches the other Klowns how to act towards Jojo. “Do Not Bother Him, Please”, is his advice. 

To some, Jumbo comes off as an intimidating being, but not to fear! He’s actually quite sweet. He loves his Klown comrades. When he finds out Klowns are on their first time invasion trip, he might give them a small celebratory gift. 

Is the closest to Jojo, reporting to him sometimes and they chat casually from time to time. Jumbo has known Jojo long enough to know what makes him tick, when to leave the room so he doesn’t bother him and what Jojo expects of his crew. 

Jumbo’s love language is HUGS. He loves to cuddle with his mate. He really is a big teddy bear. 

Has an interest in the fun house aesthetic. Ball pits, Balloons, Rainbow cake. He loves all of it. 

Would enjoy older cartoons that used to come on saturday mornings (Tom and Jerry, Spongebob, Looney Toons)

Very plays it safe. Jumbo, while violent and creative during hunts, normally doesn’t do things out of the ordinary unlike a lot of his buddies on the ship. 

Secretly has a deep fascination with human sports. Would never admit it, but Jumbo loves how divided people get over teams and how violent it can get. 

He could watch humans fight forever. It’s amusing to him. Why do they do this? 

Slim: 

His main type of comedy is a mix between ironic humor and satire. I feel like Slim would vibe with adult swim cartoons (Family Guy, American Dad,..The Simpsons) not cartoon network but he would like Parks and Rec, too. The first scene where Leslie falls down the hill.. when everyone told her to be careful, but she kept saying I'm a professional, something like that would take Slim out. 

The third oldest on the Big Top (right after Jojo and Jumbo) 

Is more stern than Spikey, but definitely more lenient than Jumbo or Jojo. 

During the movie, it would be Slim’s seventh trip to Earth. He has fond memories of chasing and killing humans and offering the landing spot up to Jojo. Knowing the land a bit, Slim goes out with Jumbo to inspect the area before the invasion starts. 

Is one of the more physically strong Klowns. Can easily pick up things 3 times his weight. 

Finds more of an interest in human made circuses than the other Klowns, liking that they got the Klown aspects so close. He often wonders to himself how the humans that got away saw so much before escaping

It’s a bit tougher to kill Slim by his nose. No one is really sure why this is. 

He’s actually really a fighter when it comes to himself. He’s a tough cookie and will NOT die easily. 

When it comes to aim, Slim is horrible at aiming weapons/ projectiles. 

Slim really likes the creepy forest aesthetic. His favorite holiday tradition would probably be haunted hay rides through spooky forests on Halloween. He wouldn’t sit through one, but they're fun in theory… could use more mallets in his opinion. 

Secretly, he would enjoy reality shows (like a Klown version though, he has no interest in human issues) 

Has a morbid curiosity towards true crime shows. But does not have the patience to sit through the whole story, so he’ll fast forward through just to see what happened. Does that thing where he HAS to know what happens at the end of things, but is very short in patience. Slim has things to do, he doesn't have time to wait! 

Is a master at shadow puppetry, knowing how to entrance his prey with whimsical shadow art and capturing them in said puppets. This trick of his he just learned recently, liking the idea of showing off his new skills. 

Personality wise, Slim is one of the more straightforward Klowns on the ship. He runs as a second in command and sometimes lets the power go to his head. 

As a mate, Slim is very unique. Almost as high energy as Spikey, but as strict as Jumbo. He takes his work very seriously but has his moments where he cuts back and jokes around with everyone. Wild Card. 

Is a bit rougher with his mate, but he doesn’t mean any malice with it. He is more protective than the other Klowns but likes to play around with his mate. He knows when to be serious with his mate. When he gets serious, he’s much more affectionate and careful with them. 

Technologically the smartest Klown. He helps make the weapons they bring on the invasion. 

He has a friendship with Spikey that’s very hot and cold. Sometimes they get along, other times they fight. Spikey doesn’t always agree with Slim’s points of authority. Slim doesn't always like how childish and dramatic Spikey is. 

Has a lot of fun while hunting, like the other Klowns, this is a very therapeutic thing for him. 

Also really likes monster movies, Slim would like more comedic horror monster movies though. Like Tremors, Eight Legged Freaks, Jaws, Gremlins.

Has a deep, irrational fear of trains. Man finds it super unsettling that they stop for nothing and they scream at you 

He likes to act tough, so he would never say out loud that he’s afraid of anything. 

Slim loves sunglasses. He likes darker spaces because his eyes are a bit sensitive. 

When it comes to kids, Slim would think he would be a terrible parent, and would be. He wouldn’t be the worst parent, but he would be like “this thing is my kid? Why the hell does it make so much noise??” He would be willing to work together with his mate and they would be a power parent couple, but him by himself? He would be so awkward. 

Now, this does not mean he would be a total chaos dad, he has little moments where he’s unintentionally very sweet with his child. And when the baby gets older is when Slim truly shines. Him and his kids are inseparable! They’re best friends when the kid hits the tween area. 

Fatso: 

His comedy type is the type of humor that would get a little kid laughing. He likes slapstick, cringe humor. Someone tripping on something, or the banana peel gag, Fatso loves it! 

Is the most reserved of the Klowns. 

He is secretly a romantic guy, but secretly! He doesn't want his buddies thinking he’s weak. 

He finds some human things interesting. Like their ability to put things together and it doesn’t taste terrible? Witch craft. A doughnut burger? He’s drooling. 

Is not shy about eating human made foods. He likes pies, has a soft spot for chocolate and sweeter pastries. He gets cravings for chocolate, but his favorite flavoring is a toss up between strawberry and cherry. Something about the tart flavors. 

He loves birthdays! Sometimes they invite clowns to the party? That's so touching ;; and birthday cake is a masterpiece. He hates fondant though.

Speaking of foods he dislikes, he hates peanut butter, I would even go as far as to say Fatso is allergic to peanut butter. To him it’s got this chalky texture and it grosses him out. It’s hard for him to swallow. 

Gives great cuddles and is very sweet to his mate. Could take naps with his mate forever. And loves just doing things with them. Invite him places! He adores following his mate into little shops and watching his mate look at/ pick things out of the stores. Or whatever they're doing that day, he’s an active follower. He’s also a very good listener, if you want to just sit at a resting spot and talk about your day. 

He likes small, cute animals. He can’t help himself. Baby ducks? Adorable. I could absolutely see Fatso holding a baby duckling gently and petting it with one finger ;; such a sweet boy. This doesn’t take away from the fact he will eventually eat the animal he thinks is cute. 

He gets his species' version of seasonal depression. He volunteers for invasion trips all the time because the trips relieve his symptoms a bit. 

Fatso is the most emotional of the Klowns. This could be brought on by his depression but it’s not entirely clear. But the other Klowns make it clear they are there for him and talk to him about it. It’s not the same as having a mate and being able to talk to them, but it’s still nice and he’s grateful for his friends. 

Hates thinking ahead. He lives in the moment and likes to have fun now, not later. Spikey and Slim (when they’re chill with each other) are very good at taking Fatso out of his own head for a bit and taking him out on the town for fun times. 

Despite his condition, Fatso does not let his emotions get to him! He’s the sweetest (well.. As sweet a Killer Klown could be..) and he likes to have fun. 

Has a sweet spot for high stakes cooking shows. They hypnotize him and they take his mind off things. 

Things he would look for in a mate would include the ability to show him he matters and he is fun to be around. His love language would fall under the categories Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. He loves cuddles and being close to his mate. 

These were fun to do and I might add more at a later date ^^ If you have any questions or requests, I’ll do my best to reply (I struggle with wanting to throw everything I write into a bin after I've crumpled it lol)

[meloncholy-words]

Robin: A Word That Means Run (Chapter 1: Nightwing)

Nightwing hasn't been Robin in years. He still remembers what that name means in a situation like this.

A/N: I'm not going to apologize for any inaccuracies in lore and characterization. If canon can fuck off and do whatever they please than I can too. I'll try staying as close to what I know as canon as possible but also I do what I want lmao.

~~~

Chapter Warnings: Explosions, minor gun violence(no one gets shot but there are guns), canon typical violence(nothing graphic/explicit! it's just there), swearing, Scarecrow's fear toxin (though the effects of it happen off screen), mentions of past violence, mentions of injury(stitches, concussion, etc.). No permanent injury or death occurs! Let me know if I should add more warnings!

AO3 | Chapter List

The case was simple: Scarecrow was shipping out vials of fear toxin to buyers from other cities. There were five buyers; one from New York City, Washington DC, Brooklyn, Metropolis, and Blüdhaven. All that they had to do was intercept the sales, arrest the buyers, and run tests on the toxin to check if it was a new strain. It usually wasn't, but it never hurt to check. If it was, that would mean that Scarecrow was planning something big.

The issue was that all sales were happening on the same night, and all in different parts of Gotham, with not enough vigilantes to handle all of them.

Red Hood was investigating a new business of dealers near his territory, trying to gauge how much of a threat they were so he could take them out. They were experienced, and growing fast; if he didn't nip it as fast as he could, it might grow out of control and start becoming an issue.

Spoiler and Black Bat had had a recent run in with Killer Croc, and were both benched due to injuries. Steph had a sprained ankle, and many stitches all along her arms and back. Cass had a dislocated shoulder and concussion, as well as many stitches along her legs and torso. Both were lucky to have not gotten worse.

Signal, despite insisting that he should go, was out of commission. He'd already worked well into the night shifts the previous three nights due to several kidnapping situations that happened too close together to not be connected, but ended up just being very coincidental. That, plus his need to keep his grades up, had him pretty sleep deprived. While not usually an issue, a fourth night out later than he should've been would've only made it worse, and fear toxin with sleep deprivation was one of their absolutely nots.

That left only Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing to deal with busting the sales. Four vigilantes to deal with five sales in five separate locations within the city. No problem, could be done very easily.

Nightwing had gotten the sale in Fashion District. The information that Oracle had been able to dig up lead him to an alley behind a two-story boutique. An unusual meeting place, but better than some abandoned warehouse. That was just becoming cliche at this point.

He was perched on a rooftop above, blending into the dark, clouded sky. It wasn't as efficient as the shadows, but he had been yet to be spotted. A car was already waiting, three guys twiddling their feet as they waited. The buyers, undoubtedly. Nightwing sat studying them from above.

Their car was a black SUV, covered in family stickers. Likely to be more inconspicuous, but could've been from one of their moms. Criminals were just like that sometimes. Two of the men were obviously well built, their frames on the bulky side. The third wasn't quite so built, but he seemed relaxed as they leaned back against the metal frame of the car, so he wasn't just some lackey dragged along. Likely a getaway driver, maybe the leader of this operation.

After around 15 minutes of sitting around, a van pulled up to the entrance of the alley. The driver stayed inside, while the the passenger and a few men from the back hopped out. The gimmicks of their outfits told Nightwing that they were Scarecrow's men. One of them was carrying a briefcase, which he identified as the goods.

The three guys snapped to alert, the leaner man taking charge. That clued into him being the leader. They met each other half way, a conversation springing from hushed voices. Nightwing strained to hear what they were saying, but that wasn't the important thing. What he needed to do was stop the sale from happening.

He monitored the men for a bit longer, listening to them speak. They were haggling, probably. If they sale went through, than he would need to apprehend all of them. If it didn't, he'd only need to deal with Scarecrow's men. The others would be their own cities problem.

"My sale fell through," came Red Robin's voice crackling through the comm in his ear. "Moving in now."

Below him, the leader gestured back toward the car. One of the bulky men moved towards it, opening the back and pulling out a small duffel bag. He handed the bag over, and Nightwing shifted to get a better look at the bag that was being opened.

Yep, that was cash.

"My sale is going through," Nightwing said into his mic, hushed. "Moving in."

Before the trade off could happen, Nightwing slipped off the ledge of the roof quietly. He angled himself slightly, making sure that when he landed it was on the lean man's shoulders, sending him shooting down to the ground under the weight. The man under him grunted as he hit the ground, letting out a wheeze. He wasn't unconscious, but he made no move to get up. Probably due to the pain of being slammed into an alley's concrete floor from roughly 180 pounds from above.

"Gentlemen," he chirped in greeting, electrifying the ends of his escrima sticks before flipping of the man under him towards the other two. The men reached towards their waistbands, likely reaching for a gun, but it mattered little when the electricity pressed hard above their collarbones. They spasmed, muscles stiffening under the shock, before collapsing as he pulled back.

Scarecrow's men gasped, followed by shouts and the sounds of feet scuttling away. Nightwing grabbed the lean man's collar, tossing him towards the other two. He dropped a bead in between them that exploded, wrapping cord around their limbs and tying them together.

"I'll be back for you!~" he called in a sing song voice, spinning around to watch the henchmen loading into the van. He pulled one of his sticks up, letting the hidden grapple inside of it shoot into the side of the building. The van roared to life, and Nightwing used the momentum of his lines tension to propel forward, landing on the roof as the wheels screeched against the road.

"Sale went through, moving in," came Robin, and from the sounds of exertion coating his voice, he was a little late on that callout.

The van wiggled underneath Nightwing's grip, trying to shake him off. Nightwing acquiesced, his hands gripping the edge of the top as he forced his legs down and through the windows of the back doors.

Several more shouts filled the air, and Nightwing was quick to silence them. He was also careful to not shatter the fear toxin that had been dropped on the floor in the struggle. The passenger in the front whipped around, and Nightwing was distantly aware of the glint of metal pointing towards him, but he snapped the wrist pointing the gun at him before he even recognized it as a gun.

The henchmen yelped in pain, and then did it again when his head was slammed into the dashboard. Nightwing hopped over the seats, landing on top of the unconscious body, his feet resting in the lap of the driver. In his hands, a stick came to life with more electricity.

"You gonna pull over?" he asked, smile in his voice as he waved the shocked-up end at the other. The henchmen let out a small whimper, leaning away from the weapon. Nightwing almost felt bad for him as he screeched off to the side, obeying.

When all of the henchmen were tied up, and Nightwing had doubled back to make sure the almost-buyers hadn't managed to escape, he notified the police before sitting back on a roof, basking in his victory.

"All involved are apprehended and waiting for police custody, and the toxin has been secured," Nightwing said, stretching out from where he was sat. The men didn't put up much of a fight, but the few blows the did land would probably bruise in the morning. Probably. This was a surprisingly easy run. "Reports?"

"Scarecrow's men are being tied up now," Red Robin replied, his voice soft after the fight. "Toxin secured"

"All involved apprehended," came Batman, who hadn't given the status earlier, the asshole. "Toxin secured."

"You never notified us you were moving in," Nightwing said helpfully. Not that it mattered too much; he was Batman, he'd be fine. "I'll start moving into the last sale now. Send me the location, O." Then, after a beat, "Robin, status?"

There was a brief stutter of silence. Nightwing hardly noticed it as he crossed from building to building, careful not to break anything. Hardly.

"Robin?"

"All involved apprehended," came the shaky voice of Robin. Uh oh, not good. "Toxin secured, one... one vial broken."

Shit.

"Try staying calm, I'll head your way," Nightwing said, spinning on his heel to where Robin handled his sale in the Narrows. It was on the opposite side of Gotham, but he'd be damned if he didn't do anything to-

"Actually," cut in Oracle's voice, "You should get over to Diamond for that last sale. You're the closest, and if all other sales are finished by now, that one might be close to done, or already finished. Red's the closest to Robin, he can go."

Red gave an affirming hum into his mic. "On my way, hang tight Robin. ETA like... 12 minutes."

Robin didn't respond, which made Dick's heart stop, but he turned back to his original path. His family was reliable, and they'd be fine. Stopping this sale was important, and he wasn't even close enough to object.

"I'll go with Nightwing," Batman said, voice gruff and focused as usual. "If they're wrapping up, and he gets there too late, I can keep speed with the batmobile."

"Acknowledged," Nightwing acknowledged as he soared over the gaps between buildings. "ETA 5 minutes."

Those five minutes were rather silent, only filled with his heavy breathing and grunts and he hopped and rolled around and off the rooftops. The vials in the briefcase he had pressed against his ribs clanked together ominously, but there was not breaking glass yet. He hoped there wouldn't be.

This time, the place of sale was some old, rundown warehouse. Nightwing gently set down the briefcase on the roof, dropping through a shattered skylight and moving like a spider in the rafters. There was arguing below him, loud and... not quite angry. No, it was frustrated, and building up to anger.

"I'm just saying, that seems like a high price to pay for something we don't even know works." The accent suggested Blüdhaven. Good, these were his own criminals then. He could handle that just fine.

Nightwing slipped around the rafters a little more until he had a clear view of everyone. He took a quick headcount. Five of Scarecrow's men, and he thought he saw another van outside, so probably more in total. Seven men stood before them, and Nightwing thought he recognized them from a gang who caused a lot of problems for him. It was hard to tell in the dark. This warehouse was so run down that there wasn't even any lighting in here.

"Twelve counted inside, likely more spotted outside," he said into his mic, his voice kept low and even as the men continued to argue. "The outcome of this is probably gonna be a big fight, so have your rebreather on just in case."

Nightwing slipped his own rebreather over his mouth, fastening it tight behind his head.

"Understood. I'm pulling up now."

The arguing below softened, and Nightwing was struggling to hear what was being said again. He did notice the exchange of bags, though.

"Good, the sale just went through. You're just in time."

Once more, Nightwing dropped from the sky like a missile. This time, he focused on the henchmen, as the gang men had the fear toxin. He had to be careful to not break them open. Even if he had his rebreather on, fear toxin wasn't fun to deal with.

These henchmen put up a bit more of a fight. Not good enough, of course. The metal pipe to the back of his head was, though.

Four of the five of Scarecrow's men were down, and what knocked him off his feet was a metal pipe. Damn. He tucked and rolled with the blow, bouncing up on his hands and knocking the weapon away with a kick. He was back on his feet, escrima sticks in both hands and poised to fight when a shadow descended upon the others.

The fighting only increased with a new player in the ring, but it was easier this time. Batman wrestled the briefcase of vials out of the gang's hands, tossing it on the floor behind him and out of the crossfire. The final henchmen had been forgotten in favor of the others. By the time another four men were down, Nightwing had realized that it was a mistake.

A click of metal made Nightwing whip around, arms raised and ready to either take or deal some serious blows. What he saw, instead, was a grenade mid air, heading fast towards him. It bounced off the ground, nestling against the briefcases handle.

Nightwing's muscles tensed, crouching low and fast, the hold on his weapons loosening. He needed to grab the briefcase. If the toxin blew, everyone without a rebreather would be affected. Dealing with a large number of criminals was hard; dealing with a large number of criminals who were terrified out of their minds and fighting like caged animals was hell.

His eyes flicked over to the grenade, and he hesitated. That wasn't good. You never hesitated on the field like this. But he knew those grenades. Most had plenty of seconds of fuse in them, for optimal range. If a grenade blew up too quickly after it was thrown, you'd get caught in the crossfire. But these ones, the one that had been thrown his way and was nestled against too many vials of fear toxin, was very short fused. The best way to take out a bat was to surprise them. That was very hard to do.

Using a weapon with no guarantee of survivability for the user was a good way to do it.

Nightwing wouldn't have time to move, not anymore. Maybe if he'd jumped at first, he could've gotten far enough away. But he was crouched down low, leaning toward the thing rigged to explode in at most two seconds, one hand reaching forward. His mind processed, vaguely, that he should run. Maybe he could run still, maybe, but would his body catch up to his thought process? Probably not. It hadn't even registered he was in danger yet.

Shit. He was going to die, huh? Or at the very least get badly injured. He was going to maybe die because he was too slow to recognize danger and his body was even slower to respond to his mind's commands and-

"Robin!"

His body moved before his mind caught up this time. He didn't know why. He hadn't been Robin in, what, 8 years? 9? But he new that name. He new that tone. He'd heard them both countless times over the years. And when they were paired together like this, when his veins were full of adrenaline and his stomach felt like a pit of ice, it meant run.

So he did. His legs pushed up, and his hips turned so fast he might've gotten whiplash, and his arms reached out until they found something firm and dark and safe. There was the flutter of a cape, and then there were strong arms around him, grabbing so tightly that the skin and bone underneath them ached.

There was an explosion. He didn't feel it. He could hear the sound of it, the gunpowder igniting and swelling into a cloud of fire. He could hear shouts and shrieks around him, groans and yells and maybe something breaking. He could feel his side grinding against something he recognized as the floor, but it felt distant.

He could feel his face pressed into a chest, coated in a thick material that had repelled knives, bullets, and wandering hands and fingers that traced the bat design on it after he had saved someone that he would gag about later in the back of the batmobile because he was too small to ride shotgun.

The floor under him stopped moving, and the screams had cut off. He peaked an eye open, looking up at the roof of the warehouse. There was a face there, with a chiseled jaw and scars that were small enough they could only be seen up close. There was black material that only covered the top half of that face. Above them was a thick substance in the air. Fear toxin, he registered after a few moments.

Slowly, the two bodies pulled apart. A hand was under his arm, guiding him up to stand. A survey of the area showed no deaths. Everyone unprotected had at least been far enough to only have been blown back. No missing limbs, no cuts, no burns. Just a few bruises.

"Are you guys okay?" Oracle asked, a hint of panic in her voice. "Cameras showed a bright light go off inside, and your vitals are off."

"All good, Oracle," said Batman, still surveying the scene. "There was a little explosion. No one seems seriously injured. Everyone else is unconscious, though, and there's toxin in the air." He didn't mention calling for his Robin.

"Good news about that!" Red Robin chimed. "It's not a new strain, which means we have antidotes on standby. Also, Robin's doing alright."

"Hn, good. We'll tie up loose ends here and head out. See you at the cave."

There was a round of sign-offs, and the two in the warehouse began rounding up the unconscious thugs. Toxin seeped out of the skylight above. The henchman that threw the grenade was nowhere to be seen, likely having fled during the chaos.

"I left my case of toxin up on the roof," Nightwing said when everyone had been restrained. He didn't mention the name either.

Batman let out a hum of acknowledgment. "I'll be waiting for you in the batmobile to head back to the cave." The flutter of a cape - one that had protected him - let him know that his dad was gone.

Nightwing climbed his way up to the roof once more, slow and deliberate. His body ached a bit more, now that he'd taken more hits and had been thrown across the floor. Being thrown by an explosion wasn't fun, 0/10, would not do it again.

Despite that, there was a smile plastered on his face.

Dick kinda liked being Robin again.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

A Second Long Rant About The Koffin Trio

Note: I decided to write about these three again (mostly about the genocide route) because I didn't cover everything I wanted to in my previous take, and you guys seemed to like it (I'm glad you enjoyed it as well, @beethovenus!), so here we go. If you haven't already, please read my previous ts!us post, since this is an addition to that.

Let's just say that the writers really outdid themselves when it comes to the genocide route, especially in regards to Harry and Larry. Never before did a video game leave me feeling so emotionally broken. The battle between the Boogiemen and Chara proves that comedic relief characters CAN and SHOULD be put in serious situations. It gives them much-needed depth.

At the beginning, Harry and Larry didn't take Chara seriously and only managed to make it out of the encounter alive because Crossbones/Sans intervened (which just goes to show how reckless both of them are) they're like annoying but loveable little kids i swear

It's this trait of theirs that led them to their downfall later on. I guess you could say that their appearance was meant to 'lighten the mood' of the otherwise dark genocide route, but it only made things worse for them in the long run. I remember reading a comment on YouTube once, and it mentioned how the Boogiemen resemble horror movie characters who die first due to their carelessness. And aside from the fact that they were not the first monsters to get killed by Chara, I agree 100%

Neither one of them believed that a human was even in the Underground, let alone a serious threat... that is, until they tried picking on Chara ↓

...which obviously didn't end well ↓

When they realized that they really WERE in danger, both visibly began to panic; neither one of them even tried to pretend to be fearless ↓

I've got to say that I love the contradictory traits the Boogiemen share: fearless but fearful, fun-loving but seeking safety, reckless but cautious.

Imo, as much as they like to goof off, they want someplace to come back to even more. Koffin-K is the one who makes the keep a place where they feel like they belong; a place that gives them comfort. KK's presence is what reassures them that they're taken care of. He's the one who makes Koffin Keep home.

In the present moment, Harry and Larry can afford to act goofy and careless because they're convinced that, no matter what happens, Koffin will always be there to save them, provide for them, and keep them safe in general.

There's a difference between who Harry & Larry were before and after they got hired (they seemed to have become more mischevious, more open to goofing off, and even more ambitious and confident).

I find it interesting that both of them were anxious/sceptical about working for Koffin when he first met them:

The two weren't attached to Koffin-K at all at the time. They didn't become loyal right off the bat; It took them (a short) time to warm up to him. And now that they are attached, I'm pretty confident that they're never leaving his side

The thing about Harry is that he used to rely on this one low-wage job and probably thought: "If I take the risk and come to regret becoming this weird guy's lackey, or if he fires me, I might never be able to come back to my safe job again and I'll be left with nothing. I'm not even qualified for anything other than menial chores!" yeah I headcanon that both him and Larry dropped out of high school at like 16 and never went to college in the first place I'm also really curious if Harry used to be attached to his previous boss (who he never mentioned) like he is to Koffin-K now, but I doubt it since he DID accept Koffin's job offer the very next day.

And Larry didn't want to risk anything either, even though he pretty much had nothing to lose. Even if he used to have a job as a janitor (if this is the case, I imagine his thought process was the exact same as Harry's), he still lacked a home. It's depressing to think about how Larry apparently wanted to continue his poor-quality life because he didn't believe anything different or better was out there. Or, he had no idea what having a better life even felt like. Maybe he thought he'd be WORSE OFF as Koffin-K's employee and/or that he'd fire him at some point. I just made myself sad, I love these guys a lot and empathize so much I feel like both of them believe they're not good enough and it hurts

Anyway, back to the genocide route.

After they're rescued, Flowey says:

Already setting up the fact that they'll either be an easy and/or optional battle. Nice.

Then we see Harry and Larry straight up putting themselves in danger to please Koffin-K:

Like, guys, I'm sure he would have understood if you hadn't obeyed his order this time. but they CAN'T let him down; they refuse After all, a mass murderer was on the loose

And once again, we're given a choice whether or not to fight them:

And finally, if we follow them... we get to this scene.

Oh god. THIS scene. Where do I even start?

Alright, time for some retrospect.

So, the two dummies have no way to escape and are forced to fight (with their very last conversation being AN UNRESOLVED ARGUMENT), Larry is ruthlessly pushed off the cliff (is this why it's called the ruthless route? Because if so, it fits perfectly), Harry screams his name and falls to his knees, completely dejected, and doesn't even attempt to run or fight, waiting to join Larry in death.

This moment hurts. This text especially. "Quick on his feet" but not quick enough; Larry's name is no longer next to his

No matter how much they annoy each other, the care is clear as day. That's another reason why I think of them as brothers. Harry is pretty fearful, right? And yet he'd rather turn to dust than live a life without Larry.

Sometimes I wonder how the scene would have played out if Harry had been given given the choice to either flee, stay and fight, or let us finish him off.

Ok, the third option would remain unchangeable, and the second would definitely result in his death whether or not he put up a fight, but the first one...

**ANGST WARNING**

Koffin-K would find Harry in his and Larry's house, curled up on their (now only his) bunk bed, sobbing uncontrollably and blaming himself over and over again. Then he'd hold him and they'd cry together. Koffin would regret not being more transparent with his care for his henchmen, and now that he was only left with one, he'd swear to be the best boss and father he could be.

It would take a while, but eventually Harry would stop crying himself to sleep every night, he'd go back to his mischievous self, he'd pull pranks and laugh and have fun because that's what Larry would have wanted.

Koffin and Harry's relationship would strengthen over time (sooner rather than later) and they'd become a true family. But every day, for the rest of his life, Koffin-K would wish that he had told Larry how much he loved him before he died. Harry would wish that, too.

But there was no way to turn back the clock, and the only thing they could do was hope that, wherever Larry was, he'd somehow know.

...he did.

I don't even want to image what would have happend if the roles had been reversed. Let's just say that Larry would have been absolutely shattered if Harry had gotten pushed off a cliff/died first. Based on his reaction if you beat Harry up during their fight in the neutral route, I don't even think he'd ever be able to move on from the pain of losing his brother best friend (or it would be SUPER hard).

Speaking of these scenes, Harry's first reaction was to get furious, Larry's was to burst into tears. What they have in common though was that they showed care for each other sigh... image limit strikes again

Larry also picked up on the purity of Chara's soul (or lack thereof) and it triggered Chara

It reminds me of how Ceroba picked up on the number of monsters Clover had killed

Long story short, I love how both Harry and Larry have their own quirks and personality. They're not just interesting as a duo, but separately, too. It's sometimes hard to remind yourself how, just because two people are a team, that doesn't mean they don't/can't exist as individuals.

I'm really curious to see Koffin-K's reaction to these two's deaths. REALLY REALLY curious.

I think that he'd completely break down (before that he'd be in denial) upon realizing that his idiots are actually gone forever and were killed by someone Koffin thought would make a good servant. Still, for some reason, I doubt he would become so enraged that he could avenge them by killing Chara.

Regardless of his reaction, he'd definitely miss them a lot.

When everyone was gone, Harry and Larry were the first on his mind i feel like they're his biggest headache but also the two monsters he loves most, in his own unique way

Random thoughts as a bonus bc why not:

I swear, it seemed like they wanted to say "You're talking to THE COUNT'S lackeys!" and "You ain't the dad of us to tell us what to do!" Also, Harry looks scared/nervous/unsure/ af. These guys really are both cowardly and impulsive

Istg, they act like (man)children with Koffin being their strict but goofy dad mom who makes them do chores when they'd rather laze around (I know it's part of their job and everything but the way they talk about their duties gives me this vibe)

...yeah, just KK acting like an annoyed dad, nothing new to see here

Remember how, in the last post I wrote, I said that Harry and Larry are materialistic (for a good reason)? Yeah, they're so materialistic that they'd even "betray" their boss for some cash (unrelated, but I love this game's humor)

These two have a dog's loyalty, but even their house looks like a doghouse (or maybe it's just tiny compared to the keep). Speaking of the keep...

Interesting that, whoever wrote on this wiki, didn't include the other workers almost like it's just the three of them that are a family while the others are just there for the easy money

[audaciousacolyte]

Amy Rose headcanons (Romantic and Platonic)

☆ Romantic headcanons ☆

♡| Amy rose is one of the sweetest gals around, so you can be as sure as sugar that she's gonna dote on her partner as much as she can!

♡| Dates with this hammer wielding heroine include; trips to Twinkle Park, shopping sprees, café visits and baking days! Even if you don't feel up to going out, she'll still do everything in her power to make sure that you're still having fun.

♡| Amy is a passionate girl, and her love burns just as brightly as her anger. If Eggman or some other villan were to take you hostage or, god forbid, hurt you? She's going all out on their asses to save you and get you to safety. Makes it very clear that NOBODY messes with her partner.

♡| Despite being confident in her ability to keep you safe, she's still pretty worried that you could be seriously injured by Eggman or his lackeys. Just reassure her that as long as you are at her side, there's nothing to fear.

☆ Platonic headcanons ☆

○| Dear, sweet, precious amy here is probably the kindest person you've ever met. From befriending people like Shadow or Omega to fighting Eggman, she never seems to lose her compassionate spirit.

○| When she decides to do something, she goes through with it. Even if it has serious consequences, if it means helping others, she'll do it. Please try to keep her from running head on into a dangerous situation that might be too much for her. Even if you don't succeed, she'll still really appreciate it later.

○| That being said, If you just so happen to be more reckless than her, she will not hesitate to dragging away from the action and chew you out. She nags because she cares, and she'd really rather not see you get your ass handed to you, alright?

[cloudwhisper23]

Didn't get as much of this chapter done as I wanted to, but it is still something that stands on its own. Might post the scrapped bit at a later date, but I am quite happy with how the chapter turned out!

She’d forgotten about the girls who didn’t like her. Really, she had more important things to worry about, like the fact that she’d just watched a group of boys dump chocolate milk on Evan Afton’s head.

He blinked the milk out of his eyes and continued eating like nothing had happened. Cassidy didn’t like that. She stared as the milk ran down the side of his face, mirroring the way blood dripped from his face after his death. It was too… too familiar.

“Shame you don’t have any friends to sit with,” one of the girls in the lunch line said, making Cassidy turn around.

“I don’t need lackeys,” Cassidy replied. “I need people who won’t run at the first sign of trouble.” Poor word choice. Isn’t that exactly what Evan did?

“Ooooh, looks like the little bear has some bite!” Another one of the girls, Brianna, added, grinning at Cassidy.

Little bear. The nickname started with her brother. He must’ve called her that within earshot of Cassidy’s classmates once or twice. Now was not the time to find the irony in the sentence Brianna had said though.

Cassidy shrugged. “Whatever you say.” She watched the boys come back up to Evan, this time with a spoonful of- was that ketchup? One of them pulled his shirt back for the other to drop it in.

Evan pulled away, seconds too late as the ketchup went down his shirt. He shuddered, making a face, but still he did nothing. Why isn’t he fighting back? Cassidy thought with slight irritation.

She got her tray and sat right next to Evan. He barely glanced at her, eating slowly. Cassidy studied his face, not having the chance to when they’d been dead. There were dark circles under his eyes, too dark to be more than just one sleepless night. Evan sat awkwardly as well, probably to avoid smearing the ketchup further.

This is why I dress in layers, Cassidy thought, looking at her long sleeves. “Hey.”

Evan blinked at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. “…Hi…”

[makriiii]

Wary accord (Arthur morgan × f!reader)

Summary: Invited to Angelo Bronte's garden party, you couldn't see anything fairing well. However, as the evening fades to night, and nothing goes wrong, you let yourself enjoy it more than you planned.

Word count: 3.4k

Authors notes: This is just a one-shot with heavily referenced themes from my ongoing series rn - Caught. I had to take a break from writing hardcore and unadulterated angst. ☠️ I'm also open to any suggestions, so send them in! ;)

Warnings/tags: Lots of fluff, 90% sfw, mentions of wounds, guns, some angst.

Ao3!

Pt1 to Caught!

♡

Wary Accord.

Jack ran into his fathers arms with glee, you were just as happy as he was that he was safe and okay.

You were sure this night would've ended in blood shed. Instead, you begrudgingly had to do Bronte's dirty work, handling some grave robbers with Arthur and John.

You didn't much enjoy partaking in being nothing more than a lackey, especially for someone like Angelo Bronte. This made even worse when you heard what Dutch had to say.

"Mr. Bronte has invited us to a garden party at the mayors house." He announced, still seeming unbelieving in the invite himself whilst he chuckled. "And us, just simple country folk."

This didn't delight you, fully willing to stay behind that day if you could, but you feared something might go awry and it'd be best if you were there to help. You felt much with Arthur and John there. Plus, that Dutch. He has his way with his words, and you trusted those words.

-

You'd been busy helping Pearson all day, the whispers of dusk finally upon the camp. Ready to relax, you sat up against a tree near Hosea looking forward to dinner when you were suddenly startled awake by Dutch.

"Come on!" He shrieked, "If we are gonna make it to this party, we sure as shit better clean up a little."

The party. You'd completely forgotten about the party. Your original plans for the night squandered.

"So we're doing this?" Arthur asks, disbelieving you were to actually attend.

"Oh yeah." Hosea acknowledged. "Old friend Dutch Van der linde has finally shown his true colours." He teases.

Hosea could always make you smile, if not full on laugh. "Social climbing." He states flatly.

"Old Signor Bronte, that horrendous snake has invited us to the ball, Cinderella." He addressed to Arthur. You'd be sure to tease him with that later on.

"So my suggestion is we go and get you a gown." He chuckles, Hosea laughing along with him.

While they walk by, you try not to catch attention, putting ur hat lower over your face, to which Hosea comes over and flicks it off.

"You too y/n. We don't want to insult Mr. Bronte." Hosea chimes in front of you chuckling softly.

You got up hesitantly to travel into town with them, knowing your fate long since been sealed.

-

Your mares gait matched Arthur's. It wasnt long since you had made it into town with a group of people you never saw yourself attending a ball with.

"Arthur?" You glance to your side to see if you had his attention.

His eyes met yours instantly when you asked his name oh-so-calmly. "What is it?"

"Have you been to a ball before?"

"No," he gives you an airy laugh. "Not too many people like me have."

"Well, I hope you know how to behave then." You poked fun at him, your usual goal.

"Yeah? And what would you know about behaving?"

"More than you I reckon. We'll see who gets booted out quickest."

"Deal." He jokes, nodding with a funny look on his face.

"You know, I hope it's not too costly, I don't see another occasion that I'll use a dress again." You murmured, trailing off into your thoughts, counting the money you had now in your head.

"I can see that," he coughs a laugh out, looking you up and down. "I've never seen you in somethin' so fancy."

Your brows furrow, knowing the meaning behind his tease.

"I'd like to see you run around in a thick skirt, Morgan. I don't think you'd be so tough anymore." A grin splits across your face as the image of him with a skirt on whilst chasing someone down on foot crosses your mind.

"You doubt me too much." He fights back a small smile that tugs at his lips. "I could outdo you first try."

You started giggling when the little Arthur in your head tripped over and tumbled in response to his bet.

He raises a brow, questioning your sudden fit of laughter with just a glance.

"You wanna take me up on that offer? We'll race." Then, you thought of bringing heels into the equation.

You stopped him before he went to speak in between wheezes, adding the heels into the challenge. Now he didn't look so confident.

"If you can find a pair of heels that would fit me." He couldn't help but give up on his faked seriousness, all while you couldn't contain yourself.

You looked down to his feet, wiping tears from your eyes as you observe his feet.

"Don't think there's any that'd fit your fat feet."

"Well then, You're outta' luck ain't ya."

You exhaled sharply, calming your chest after all that cackling. "But we have to find the perfect slipper for you, Cinderella."

"Oh, shut it-" He pauses mid sentence to point to a store with dresses and suits on display. "Think that's our place, y/n." Dutch, Bill and Hosea already dismounting in front of it.

You sat in awe as you turned your horse to the ties right outside. You hadn't noticed this the last time you were through here.

"Careful, don't lose yourself in there." He snickers, dismounting with you. Clearly you had made your gawking too obvious.

"Oh please," you swat at him as you both walk for the door. "I'm not that bad."

When he opens the door to the inside, the slightly cooler air relieved you, everything smelt fresh, polished wood and all. This wasn't a place for an outlaw, made all the clearer when you spotted the clerk.

The store clerk instantly looked taken aback by your groups presence. Maybe you should've considered leaving your guns outside.

He wasn't all for you in his store, but you greeted him as softly as you could, keeping your hands well away from your dangerous metal contraptions.

"What can I do for you... folk?" His voice shrill and accented with what you could only assume as french.

Dutch waves over Arthur, who gives you one last glance before they all go to a different part of the shop, leaving you awkwardly standing there alone.

The man walks up to you after sorting out Arthur and the rest of them. "I assume you're looking for an evening gown?"

You nod, "Yeah, something that isn't too costly?"

He hums his consideration, scanning you up and down. "Measurements?" He asks out of the blue.

Now your face flushed. You would have infinitely no idea, which made you feel even more dumb.

"I-" You look away for a moment trying to think if you even knew. "I couldn't tell you..."

He makes a noise as if he already knew, gesturing his hand at you to follow him.

He sped walk so fast to your surprise, you weren't sure why he was in such a rush, having you near to jogging just to keep up.

When you reached a paltry, bright room with fabrics adorning mannequins. He had you remove most of your outer clothing and equipment. Discarding it to a chair left of you.

He was rather swift with your measurements, wandering around to find a small selection of dresses that he said would fit, with some adjustment of course.

You picked the prettiest of the bunch, almost feeling like a little girl again. Getting a new dress. It excited you - mostly.

"I'll let you try these all on, and your little boyfriend can hobble over to see, whenever he's done. But- over there." Now he shoo'd you to a dressing room, he seemed like he was trying to get the lot of you out of his store swiftly.

The curtain slid aggressively behind you, leaving you stunned inside, which you shook off but not without an amount of confusion.

You groaned, forgetting just how much of a hassle getting on dresses was, it took you a good while each dress you tried on, thankfully only three.

Once you got down the last dress - your favorite - you heard Arthur chime from behind the curtain, startling you so bad you jumped to cover yourself.

(Leaving the dress desc vague so you can come up with your own.)

"Can I see?" He questions, a mere curtain being all that separates you. He'd seen you unclothed before, but now it felt different.

"No, I'm half-naked." You scolded, but your disgruntled attitude quickly washed away when your eyes widened with shock.

Your words had only seemed to rev him up. His hand grasped at the curtain, but you stopped it before it folded back any further, slapping away his hand.

"Quit that you no-good buzzard." You hissed, fearing that the rest of the gang would hear, which would be too much for you to bear.

He crows in response, but doesn't continue dragging the curtain further. "I've seen you much more indecent than that, y/n."

Your face runs hot with his words, prompting you to start swatting and punching at the curtain to get him away.

"Get outta here before the sales clerk thinks we're doing some silly business back here." You fussed, mumbling lowly enough just for him to hear.

This prompted a defeated sigh, from the other side of the curtain. "Just give me another minute." You half-consoled, not a shred of empathy for him.

He came for the dress no doubt, but he preferred no dress just as much if not more.

"Okay, okay." He laughs, his spurs clicked as he took a few steps back.

Pulling up the sleeves that rested just by your shoulders, you took a look in the mirror.

The dress revealed a hell of a lot more than what you were use to, your bullet scar on your arm prevalent, though you didn't mind as much as thought you would.

With this dress on, there was no room for guns. So you had come prepared with a small thigh holster, only allowing for a tiny pistol.

You weren't sure what you were to do with your hair. Tapping your foot, to which you realized, you didn't have heels neither. This all getting more costly than you had hoped for.

Nestling your hair up into a loose bun, you quickly gathered the rest of your clothes before you forgot them to stuff into your saddle bags.

When you finally pulled back the curtain, you glared at Arthur with a 'are you happy now?' look for a minute. He himself stood dashing, if you put it lightly. A regular tuxedo, even on him, looked way better than it should.

You only gave him a small grace period before you walked passed him to find some heels.

"Wait-" He reaches for your arm and holds you back. "Let me get a better look, Miss l/n."

You stood in front of him awkwardly, his eyes quite literally feasting upon you which made you anxious and squirmy in his grasp.

"Hmm." His initial ogle replaced by his typical sarcastic grin, which already had you ready to sock him. "Looks fine enough, I suppose."

"And you?" You made it a point to make it noticeable that you eyeballed him up and down. "They might not let you in." It was a lie, and he could tell.

"You shoulda seen your face when you first came out." Puffing his chest out, much too proud. You gave him a small slap to his bicep, shaking your head.

Meeting with Hosea, Dutch and Bill, you finished the rest of your affairs. Climbing into the back of a carriage to eventually join the party.

-

The mayors house was magnificent, and damnably large. It felt daunting as it loomed over you.

Your eyes caught onto all of the intricate wood decals that sprinkled the faultless paint job. Every thing well lit by the warm street lights.

It wasn't a place you felt you belonged in with the life you led. Especially not with the people that were attending; Corrupt politicians and crime lords.

This whole situation was brittle and you had to run it nicely - not peeve anyone off.

A man greeted Dutch, then told the lot of you, no guns. No one suspected you of your gun, delightfully. So you followed everyone inside after they unenthusiastically handed over their weapons.

when you reached the inside, you flicked your head around to catch all the details in the interior. You had really only heard talk of such extravagant places like these. Certainly an experience, you thought.

Dutch looked to you, Hosea and Bill and told you to join the party whilst him and Arthur followed the man who led them to Bronte up a flight of stairs.

Your face soured, you had only a faint idea on how to seem a natural when speaking to the high flyers. Never the less, you did.

Eventually, you spotted Arthur who finally had left the balcony where he conversed with Bronte and Dutch. You dismissed yourself from the two men you spoke with, making your way to him.

"So? Did you find anything out?" You question, hoping he found out more than you had.

"No... not really. He suggested a take at the trolley station."

Your brow strung up. A trolley station? That sounded unusual to you.

"Good money, I suppose?"

He wasn't so sure either. "So it sounds. Dutch seems to trust it."

"Very well then." Nodding your head, in acceptance. "Whats he want us to do next?"

He hooks your arm in his abruptly, feeling a blush heat your face with his sudden act of affection.

"Try to talk to the mayor, get info." He says lowly, leaning over slightly as he walks with you to a group of men.

They stood in a small circle, chattering amongst themselves, scolding a man to their right that was much too drunk.

Arthur waited a moment before releasing you and reprimanding the man himself by touring him out. Leaving you with them alone.

They greeted you, to which you introduced yourself, waiting for Arthur to return, which he did, promptly.

They exchanged pleasantries for only a second before a series of pops interrupts their speak.

A splatter of blazing colours fill the dark sky, instantly captivating you. This wasn't something you'd seen before in all your long years of life.

You automatically pulled Arthurs hand to get a better view together. The sounds of the crowd behind you gasping and awing amongst the booms that sounded from the sky.

The bright twinkling and sparkling only lasted seconds each, spirals and scatters, each their own neon colours.

Greens, reds, blues, faded into smoke that matched the parted clouds, new splashes of colour never seizing to paint the gray and black behind them.

You stood in front of Arthur, sinking your head into his chest, gazing at all of the captivating lights before you.

Maybe your feelings for Arthur held you tighter than you cared to admit. He was still the one who had committed atrocities against you, which you weren't so quick to let go of.

Spinning around, you looked up to him, the blue in his eyes would perfectly match the skies if it were day, instead reflecting all the crackling lights you missed with your back turned.

"You know how to dance, don't you?" You beam, his hand in yours.

"No?-" He questions, not anticipating just what you had in store for him.

"Perfect!" Your hand tightens around his, leading him to the gazebo that stood not far from where you gathered just a moment before.

"I don't reckon we have time to embarrass ourselves right now."

"Oh, yes, you do. Believe it not, I still recall getting taught how to dance when I was younger." Snickering as you reveal your plans to a reluctant Arthur.

Stepping inside the lit gazebo, you glance around to make sure its clear. Smiling when you confirm it is.

"Ready?" Catching his hand before he felt he could change his mind - not that he had much of a choice in the first place.

He grumbles, but that tiny little spark in his eye proving he wasn't all that terribly put out by this.

His arm slowly slid down and around your waist, drawing you in close, in turn your arm raised up to his shoulder.

"Okay, now just follow my lead." You moved one foot back, the front of his shoe found your toes faster than you had imagined.

He corrects himself, much to the relief of your foot. "Shit- sorry."

"We'll go slow." You giggle, finding it funny that you were teaching Arthur of all people how to dance.

Which each step, his foot still strayed a few times, but he got the hang of it quickly.

"See? It's not so bad. But if you're still embarrassed from stepping on me, I can understand." Feigning a look of pity and a half hearted pat on his shoulder.

"I enjoyed stepping on them more than not." He shoots back, his timing lining up with the moment your heel caught on a loose board, nearly loosing your balance but Arthurs arm around you remained firm, holding you up.

"Not so tough are we, y/n?" He chortles, your pride hurting more than your feet.

You couldn't help the sheepish laugh that left you. "I demand you respect your teacher, Mr. Morgan."

"Or what? There ain't much you can do about it."

"We'll see about that." You challenge, returning to a slow rhythm. He never released you from his tight grasp.

Your bodies never left each others for the entire time, you both relished in it more than you'd ever address.

His hand eventually found your arm, his fingers gently brushing the double sided scar that he had punished you with upon your first meeting.

Dwelling for a few moments, he runs his hand up and over your collar bone, then meeting your chin. His gaze was soft, no trace of his typical cocky expression.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier." His thumb caressing the bottom of your plush lip.

"I-" He stops you from what he already anticipated you saying. Shaking his head.

"Not another word from you." He leans down, his mouth meeting yours. The most gentle show of affection he had shown you to date.

You leaned into it for as long as it lasted, cherishing each second it dragged further.

When he pulled away, there was a look you'd never be able to place on Arthurs face. You'd never forget it, that you could count on.

"I don't like that all the other men here get to see you like this too." He confesses, glancing over to the gathering, jerking upright when he spots something he didn't expect.

"I hope I'm not being too brash as I interrupt you two love sick fools." Dutch as much himself as ever with those words.

You and Arthur finally released from your embrace, standing side by side as if you both just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Dutch hollered out a hearty laugh, the ability to stay mad lost with the guilty looks you both held. "Save it for camp... now I heard mentions of Cornwall from Mr. Mayor and one of his men. Quickly both of you."

He chased you of the gazebo effectively, Arthur sighed as you strode back to complete the mission you'd been sent on.

-

"Oh good, I was starting to regret sending you both in there together." Dutch waited no time to tease you both further, making it obvious to Hosea and Bill who had a good laugh about it too.

"Yeah, yeah. We got somethin'." Arthur confirms, waving off the insult.

"Well then," Hosea chimes, excited with the news. "Think it's time to go."

That you could agree dualy on, your eye lids started to gain weight, desiring nothing more than to return to camp.

You all made for your ride back, collecting their guns on the way out, some speak of a bank heist along the way, which definitely prompted skepticism in you. As most of these takes did.

The carriage rolled up to you, not much time spent in terms of getting in. All of you wanted out of there.

Bill's voice haughty and filled with contempt as he complained about the 'high society pigeon shit.' Which plastered a drowsy smirk on your face.

Instinctively, you sat next to Arthur on the way back, dozing off on his shoulder not long after the carriage lurched shakily over the uneven cobblestone roads.

Guys I proof read this at 3 am so ignore any mistakes...

[farity]

In the Red of Night, part 8

"They're fighting."

Alys looked up from her desk, her two monitors displaying various surveillance cameras, but her focus had been on her laptop, where she was arranging for a new ally to bend the proverbial knee and swear fealty to her.

"Who is fighting?"

"Aemond and that girl."

One corner of Alys's mouth lifted, but then she narrowed her eyes at her lackey. "How do you know this?"

"They had an argument at a restaurant. Some other friend of theirs threw water in Aemond's face, then the girls left together and Aemond and some guy went bar hopping."

Alys gave him a look. "Aemond Targaryen having a lovers' spat in public. I don't think so."

"I have video."

"I'm sure you do. That will be all."

The man left dejected, having hoped for some reward for bringing such a juicy morsel to his boss, but Alys glanced at the monitors. She had two cameras aimed at Aemond's building - one aimed at the door and the other aimed at his loft, although no matter what camera she used she couldn't see through the damn windows.

The Aemond she had met, all pent up rage and resentment might have entertained, even enjoyed, an argument in public, but the man he had become was much different. Colder, more unfeeling. He was like an iceberg, and was far more likely to walk out of someone's life than to allow a scene to be made.

Alys tapped her long red nails on the desk. She had spent centuries trying to get Aemond back. If he was so unsettled by this human girl that he didn't care about a public argument, maybe his emotional mood was back to where she could manipulate him.

Or, it was some sort of trap. He knew she was always circling, because she would never really let him go. He had been her prized trophy, the jewel in her cache that made all the others dim in comparison. If she could have him back, they would be invincible.

Or maybe he had in fact gotten tired of the stupid girl. Gods knew what he saw in her. Alys was far more beautiful, far more clever, and she knew Aemond far better.

She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs. She missed him. The vitality in him, the feel of his long limbs against hers. The times she angered him and he'd wrap those fingers of his around her throat and fuck her until she passed out. She missed his mind, too. Always searching, always seeking.

No human girl, certainly not this boring little basic bitch of a girl, could ever be deserving of him. He was a king, and he deserved no less than a queen.

* * * * *

Two weeks later

"Arya, I-," you collapsed onto the ground, your every muscle screaming.

"Get up."

You wanted to cry. Even with your newfound strength, Arya had been brutal in her training.

"You want that fucking witch to stab your ass while you lay around moaning? Get the fuck up."

Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your knees and hands and got up.

"Run to the top of the hill and come back."

"Arya!"

"Go before I make you do it twice."

You started moving, not sure if it could be called running, but it was one foot in front of the other.

"By all means, move at a glacial pace, you know how that thrills me."

You threw your arm back, flipping her off, as you began to gain some speed.

These had been the hardest two weeks of your life. Physically speaking. From having Aemond turn you, and the agony of the physical transformation, to realizing that yeah, you were stronger, but you couldn't break a boulder in half or anything like that.

"This ain't Twilight," Arya had said when you smashed your hand into an unrecognizable shape after attempting to punch the trunk of a tree. "You're not the strongest, it's the ones who have been around the longest who are the most powerful."

And if you were stronger than you had ever been, then Arya's training course was designed to take you to those very limits.

After the restaurant scene, you'd left with Arya, who was still shouting curses toward Aemond and Gendry as she shoved you into the car while you pretended to sob hysterically.

Once you were a few blocks away you'd lost the car that had been tailing you and gone back to Aemond's place, going in via the subterranean service entrance. Gendry had kept Arya informed of how many of Alys's goons were following him and Aemond, and then you had gone into the loft and readied yourself for the turning.

* * * * *

His flight was on time, which he appreciated, but he had felt the distinct stench of two fairly new vamps trailing him so obviously a child could have figured it out.

He walked around the concourse three times until they figured out they'd been made and left, and then we went into the first class lounge.

The moment he had seen the property in Scotland he had wanted it. It was rugged and wild, and he'd have acres of land at his disposal.

He scented her the moment he walked inside the lounge, the combination of copper and pine that was hers alone. It took him but a second to locate her, without turning his gaze, and when he sat at the opposite end of the lounge, he knew it was only a matter of time before she approached him.

He scrolled through his phone as she stood, reveling in the attention she got. She had a magnetism about her, Aemond couldn't deny that, but the rest of the men and women that turned to stare at the woman clad in black as she walked through could not know how bitter the lure would be if they dared bite.

"Aemond." Her voice was silk and sex, and he fought the urge to recoil. "I know you know I'm here."

He looked up, met her gaze. He blinked, and after a couple of seconds, turned back to his phone. "Oh. Hey Alys."

She flicked at her nails, as she always did when impatient, and sat next to him. "How I've missed you."

"Can't say the same," he replied without looking at her, and stood.

Alys followed him as he went to the lounge bar. "Aemond. Why don't we have dinner, like in the old days?"

"Whiskey, neat, please."

"Got bored of your little barista slut?"

"Who?"

He paid the bartender for his drink, tipping him well, and took his drink over to the windows.

"You and I know she could never give you what I can."

"What's that, regrets?" he snapped.

Her hand touched his arm and he wanted, oh so badly, to grab that hand with the red nails and bend it backwards until it snapped off of her wrist.

"Be glad she wasn't in the building when I burned it down. Although, you never know," she said sweetly, "anything can happen to a boring little human."

"Leave her alone, Alys. She's nothing to you."

He felt her fingers tighten on his arm. "But she's something to you. And I cannot have that." She followed him again as he paced up and down the wall of windows. "I know where she lives."

He turned, "don't bother. It's over."

"So I hear. How very unlike you to have a public fight," she grabbed his arm again. "Remember when we used to fight? And make up? Those are some of my favorite memories." She smiled coyly up at him. "I think you wanted me to know you were done with your little pastry puff," she placed the tip of her finger in her mouth, undoubtedly thinking it made her look irresistible. "Come back to me, Aemond, you know there is no one else for you."

He stared out at the aircraft being readied for boarding, telling himself every second he had to endure of her presence would be worth it in the end.

"You owe me."

At that, he smiled, and turned to her. "Is that what you want. An obligation fuck? 'Thanks for saving my eye, Alys, I'll put my dick in your sub zero temperature hovel of a cunt?'" He laughed, startling her. "You know, you should have just said that. It might be entertaining to finally pay my bill when it comes to you."

She looked at him, wide eyed, "no, Aemond. Not like that. We're not like that. You and I," she leaned in and he ground his heels into the floor to keep from leaping back, "we're better than the rest. There is no one else like you, my Aemond. And there's certainly no one else like me."

The announcement was made for boarding, and Aemond stared at the woman who had, once, meant something to him.

"I'm back in a week."

He turned away and went through the ticket check while Alys smiled to herself, and slowly sashayed out of the lounge.

* * * * *

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[not-krys]

44. Two Roads [Ophelia, Abby, Miri]

An announcement before getting to the writing is that WIP Wednesdays for October will be on hold because I will be participating in Fictober again this year, making it the sixth year I've done so.

As such, I won't be posting a prompt from the 100 Themes Challenge on the first like I normally do as I'll be working from this year's Fictober list instead. If there are prompts that I start but don't finish, they will be posted at my End of the Year WIP Wednesdays for 2024.

So, no end of the month WIP Wednesdays for the month of October! Sorry about that!

Now, onto September's prompt for this year: Two Roads. We got:

-Ophelia literally choosing a path to follow while she's on the run with Ranmaru trying to stop her -Didn't get to the choice part of his story, but Vincent has just lost Abby to the Time Door and he's not happy about this turn of events -And Miri is debating on telling Lucifer that she's from the future because he's really pissing her off with his stubbornness. Inspired by Nightbringer Lesson 35.

Raw, unedited writing below the cut. No major warnings save for things being a little emotionally heated with these prompts. At worst, Vincent contemplates door violence?

----------

Ophelia

Distant shouts and gunfire rumbled behind Ophelia as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Where she was going, she had no idea. All she knew was that she had to get away from Nobunaga. She had no place in war, the man was mad to bring her here, even after all the times she had refused him.

She felt lucky to have escaped when she did amongst the chaos. Was it foolish on her part?

Yes, very much so.

Did she regret her decision?

No, she did the right thing in getting away from him.

All that was left now was to find a way back to Vail Isle, before any other strange phenomena decided to sweep her away again.

First, she needed to find shelter. The battle was still too close for comfort and who knew if Nobunaga would be sending his lackeys after her.

When she stopped to catch her breath, before her stood two roads. One was a well, worn open path. It might lead her to a village that was close by, she figured.

The other was a forested path, branches and stones littering the ground. It seemed unused, older, as if it hadn't seen a human passerby in a few ages. Where would that path lead, she wondered.

"Lady Ophelia!" A familiar voice called behind her, the footfalls coming towards her quickly.

Ophelia didn't turn around, already moving her own feet down the forest path.

"Don't go down that way! It's dangerous!" Ranmaru shouted.

Ophelia ignored him, kept her eyes forward and continued to run, her lungs feeling like they were on fire.

"Lady Ophelia, please! Stop!"

Ranmaru continued to chase her, gritting his teeth as they raced through the forest.

A low tree root stood in Ophelia's path, sending her flying towards the ground. Ranmaru scrambled to catch her, both landing thankfully on a soft patch of grass. However, Ophelia pushed hard against Ranmaru, the younger trying to hold onto her.

"No, let me go!"

"I can't let you go, Lady Ophelia!"

"Release me!"

"I can't! You're in danger here!"

"I'm not going back to that psychotic wretch of a man!!"

"I won't take you back! I promise!"

"Then release me!"

"I can't! I told you it's dangerous here! I can't let you go any further!"

Ophelia squirmed and pushed hard, finally running out of steam as she sat on the ground.

Ranmaru sat beside her, also catching his breath for the moment. "I won't take you back to Lord Nobunaga, I promise, but can we go back to the other path? It's safer there."

"You keep saying that. What's so dangerous about this forest?"

"I'll explain later, but, please, come with me?" Ranmaru pleaded, holding Ophelia's hand between his own. "I can take you somewhere safe for the time being. Please, Lady Ophelia?"

-----------

Abby

Vincent fell to his knees in front of the door, sealed tightly no matter how much he pushed and pulled. He called out Abby's name, banged his fists against the door. No other sounds in the hallway reached his ears. No booted footfalls, no grunts of struggle, no demands for what happened. All Vincent could do was stare at the door in silence.

She was gone. Abby was gone. Vincent couldn't feel air entering into his lungs anymore, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. His head fell forward, the hard wood making a dent into his forehead but he didn't feel it. All of his thoughts were focused on the last image of Abby falling through the open door, her eyes full of fear. He banged his fist against the door again, hard enough to feel it starting to bruise.

After a few moments, a large, warm hand squeezed his shoulder, the scent of cigarillos enveloping him.

"Le Comte wants to see you."

Vincent stopped beating the door, his breathing ragged.

"I have to go after her."

"Hm?"

"I need to go after her."

"The door won't open for another month, caro."

"I'll… I'll make it open…!"

The hand on his shoulder pulled on him harder.

"Whoa, hold on there."

"Let me go. I have get her back."

"You won't get to her by turning the door into splinters and chips."

"We won't know until I try it, right?"

"Vincent." Leonardo admonished. "Much as I want to tear it off the hinges to get her back too, that's not how it works. Talk to Le Comte first."

-----------

Miri

Miri knew that she likely wouldn't survive this surprise train ride with Lucifer, one way or another. And Lucifer was going to get his way, regardless of her answers, she knew that as well.

If only she could tell him the truth. That she was from the future, that she was going back to him, to him and his brothers in the future, where she truly belonged. She had already sworn to secrecy with Solomon as it could disrupt the flow of this timeline's flow (or something, she still didn't understand a lot about time magic or time travel), but Lucifer was making it very difficult for her to keep her mouth shut. First at the bookstore with his declaration that she should be a teacher at RAD, then inviting himself along with the train trip tickets she had won, guaranteeing the two would be alone 'to talk', picking out an outfit for her to wear to dinner, and finally, the final straw, choosing for her at dinner without her input.

She probably should have taken a page out of the Anti-Lucifer's book and cursed him with how angry he was making her, but, for all of his… childishness, let's call it that, she knew why he was doing it and that made her eyes prick with unshed tears.

If only she could tell him the truth, maybe then he'd back off. He'd agree to the pact again and she could finally back home… back to him… back to her normal….back to the Lucifer she knew. Her Lucifer.

She looked down at her ring, his ring, feeling heartsick.

"You're not eating, Miri." Lucifer's deep, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Sorry, but not getting a choice in the matter has soured my appetite." She refused to look at him.

A sigh.

"Still angry, I see."

"And whose fault is it I'm angry to begin with?"

"And stubborn."

"Thanks, I learned it from the best."

"You're being ridiculous." she heard the sound of a knife scraping against a plate. "Just stay in Devildom. You can be happy here. You already are."

"I can't stay."

"Why not?"

"Because."

Another sigh.

"'Because' isn't an answer. Try again."

She finally turned to look at him, her brows furrowed. "Isn't wanting to go home enough of a reason?"

"Where is your home?"

"The… the human realm."

"You hesitated."

"So?"

"You had to think of the answer. It wasn't the first thought that came to your mind, was it?"

"What does it matter? I'm a human, so that means I'm from the human realm, duh."

"Where is your home in the human realm?"

"It's… it's a big realm."

"Is it now?"

"Yes. You probably haven't heard of it."

"You're dodging the question."

"Why do you want to know? Are you going to going to follow me home?"

"As tempting as that sounds, you can't return without my help. And you still haven't answered me."

"Yes, I have."

"Miriam…"

"I want to go back to the Human Realm. What else is there to know?"

"Where is this place in the Human Realm that you want to return to so badly?"

"Why does it matter so much to you?"

"You're still not answering me."

"You're not answering me!"

"Fine, let me ask a different question." He held out his fork towards her, close to her mouth.  "The people you want to return to. What are they like?"

"What are they-"

"They must be special to you. So, tell me about them. You've told me about this bitter coffee lover in your life. Let's start with him."

Miri, startled by the sudden question, didn't notice that Lucifer had slid a piece of his bicorn into her mouth until she started to chew. She looked at the Ring of Light again, lost in thought. 

"At first, he was pretty scary. Intimidating. I was a stranger to him that was imposed onto his family, but he tolerated me. That's how it started anyway."

Miri pressed her fingers close to her right ear, where Mammon's pact was. The lines were invisible when she wasn't actively using her pacts, but she always got a slight tingle when she thought of the brothers.

"And I was… nothing but trouble for him. Sticking my nose in where I shouldn't and all that. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

[sapphic-agent]

The thing that bugs me the most is how izuku never got recognised for his efforts and sacrifices. These should've been revealed when izuku was being denied entry into UA by the civilians. It was the best time to reveal. He tried to save bakuhoe's ass even when he was powerless while AM and other hero's gave up and that he cleaned the entire beach when none of the so called heroes bothered to do. All might along with Mt lady could've told the whole world about this. Heck even some of the civilians living near the beach could've told the other civilians about his deeds. Endeavour, big 3 and Ryukyu could've talked about izuku's heroic deeds with stain and overhaul incident. Rock-lock and pussy cats could've talked about the muscular fight and fight with shigaraki during the war. Even we could've had some of the civilians who were saved by izuku be there in UA to talk about him saving them as well as a hero course student from muscular. These all could've been done to instill hope for the civilians who were banning izuku to rest in UA as well give recognition to izuku. This would've been izuku's true hero rising.

Izuku isn't just someone obsessed with being a hero just because it's cool. He has the same reason as Uraraka for wanting to be a hero when Uraraka talks about herself in chapter 220.(she ain't the only one who has this noble reason even if this came out of nowhere). Izuku trying to defend someone at the age of 4 or 5 from Bakuhoe and his lackeys is proof & that's more than just being an all Might fanboy or being obsessed with heroes overall. Even when he was trying to save Bakuhoe it was because he looked bakuhoe's eyes and saw someone crying for help. It wasn't because it was Bakuhoe. Izuku would've done the same if it was anyone else.

I would've preferred this over Uraraka's so-called 'great speech'. Yeah sure on the surface of it she was pleading to let izuku in but Hori's BS narrative makes it as if she's the only reason civilians are at peace with heroes, when it was Izuku's sacrifices, his vigilante stint were the entire reason for it. Don't believe me? check how Iida comments about Uraraka in the following chapters when he talks to izuku during their training. If he never left UA, Uraraka's words would've been empty. Those words only had any effect because of izuku. It pisses me that Uraraka and even 1A gets praised during the end of the vigilante arc and for her speech when they didn't even do 5% of what izuku did during that arc. The entire arc should've been izuku's rising and becoming the ultimate hero surpassing all might which nezu envisions. It should've been him standing tall and not Uraraka or anyone else on those 2 pages in that chapter 327 or 326 (don't remember which of these 2).

I also saw the later chapters about the so called recognition he got during his second fight with Shigi and imo it was pathetic. It felt empty.

Again I am sorry if it's too biased but I feel more than Uraraka or any other character, izuku deserved 'THE' spotlight considering how he has been treated like shit since chapter 1 and considering how much he has done in the series including the vigilante arc when compared to other characters.

Also I'm sorry if I'm being too harsh on Uraraka. I do like her but the way Hori treats his MC throughout the series and then he freakin gives Uraraka and 1A the recognition when izuku did all the work truly pissed me off.

I definitely agree that Izuku deserves more credit at least for everything he did during Dark Deku. He was on the runs for weeks; almost completely alone/isolated, exhausted, and mentally in shambles. And he was still proactive in not only protecting everyone, but also making people feel safe and comfortable. Like what he did for that woman with the mutant quirk. At the time, he was really the only one somewhat salvaging the relationship between civilians and heroes. And he doesn't get any recognition for it, just berated by Bakugou and 1A. It's unfair.

And I'm not gonna lie, Izuku's change from "this is how I become the #1 hero" to "this is how we become the #1 heroes" annoyed the hell out of me.

See, this is Horikoshi once again leans on "subverting expectations." Izuku can't have anything. I didn't invest in watching/reading this series to see everyone else infringe on what should be Izuku's story. I like (most of) 1A, but they were almost entirely irrelevant to the story before this. Other than Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Tsu, Aoyama, and Yaoyorozu, I don't care about any of them past finding them endearing. They were never important to the original overall theme or Izuku's story (except Bakugou, but only as an antagonistic force).

And no, there's nothing inherently wrong with the hero students working towards a better future together. But a) you can't work towards a better future if you don't acknowledge what's wrong with the present (if you asked 1A, no one would even have an idea other than Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Aoyama) and b) this had 0 build up. There was nothing to ever indicate that this ever changed into 1A's goal.

I love Uraraka too- I even liked her speech- but Horikoshi made a bigger deal about that than all the work Izuku was doing for weeks. You're absolutely right to call that out

[flyingspicerack]

hey guys, this is very hard for me to talk about and bring up, but ive talked to a few people about it in priv already, and I think im ready to publicly talk about it...

When i joined the ososan fandom back in March, it was a bit... dead? And i was trying to grasp at straws, trying to find people to connect to, trying to make some friends, and came upon one person who I seemed to mesh with really well. She posted a lot about a big server she had full of people to talk about her content with and I was at first wary to join (i dont like big servers) but did so anyway. However, as I was wary, the two of us stayed in DMs for quite a while, in addition to me being in the big server as well. This person was equally reciprocating conversation with me, with equal excitement, with equal interest to the subject matter. I believe everything is going fine, them and I, i think, are becoming closer friends, she invited me to a smaller group run by someone else, things are good for a couple weeks. Im showing up and watching art streams, sure, im a little awkward, its a new group of people and I have adhd and am very neurodivergent (to which she claims she is as well) so i'm a bit... weird or whatever, but who isnt??

Then, I'm pulled aside, im pulled into a smaller group chat with this person and two 'mediators' to which this person proceeds to tear into me, telling me that i make her uncomfortable, that im being codependent with her (bitch the 'co' in 'codependency' implies ur reciprocating but claimed i was the only problem), i put her up on a pedestal, says our age gap is weird, etc. (I have screenshots of the whole 'confrontation' if ppl want to see it) and i was terrified... She never indicated prior to this that I was making her uncomfortable... I thought i was doing everything correctly, i thought i was being a friend, i thought we were equally excited to hang out with one another?

So, from this, because of this, this bitch fucking traumatized me. She had me believing, and still trying to unlearn, that i am annoying, that i am a nuisance, that im a bother to everyone that i come around, she destroyed my self esteem and destroyed how i try to make friendships because i am SO SCARED all the time now... that one of you is going to turn around and tell me that I put you on some kind of pedestal, that im being annoying and bothering you all too much, its why i disappeared the other day because i got scared i was posting too much, that i got scared that i was ... doing something wrong...

So... ok now that im in it, writing this, excuse my lack of composure for the rest of this post, i tried to hold it but now im getting angry

SO FUCKING MEANWHILE THIS BITCH, talking about codependency and age gaps in friendships, her two 'lackeys' apparently were her ONLY friends during like 4 years of her life (codependent hippocracy) AND she was into ososan from the beginning when she was like fucking 14, and one of her lakeys is OLDER than me at 29 AND WAS FRIENDS WITH HER WHEN SHE WAS 22 AND THIS BITCH WAS 14 SO you're gonna sit here and tell me that OUR age gap is weird when THAT SHIT is going on????????????????????? And fucking- PUTTING you on a fucking PEDESTAL?? when YOU are the one who is the OVERLORD of this fucking server you have with like 50+ peons, AND you have this nasty ass notification in the server to alert EVERYONE when someone leaves to which is kinda creepy and controlling??

Anyway i responded scared out of my mind and backed off... she didnt want to cut me out, just limit conversation and take me out of the smaller knit circle and we could still be friends, but obviously this freaked me out and i didnt talk to her much after that.... ANYWAY so this person THEN has the audacity to reach out to me a month or so later and is like 'hey... we haven't talked much and i think something might have happened between us? are we ok? you're really distant" and then i fucking laid into her cause i had the month to think on it...

If any of this behavior sounds familiar to you, its bc the person 'in charge' is known as Ava, or pinklemonfruit here on tumblr, and one of her lackeys? Lovenu, who im pretty sure a lot of you already know of... theres another one, her name is emmy, her username here i believe is lichenqueen and was the other 'mediator' i have been told by one source that they potentially could be lying about their age, but take this with a grain of salt bc i have no proof of this

I unfortunately dove right into this when i came into the fandom bc i didn't know any better, i didn't know that these people were bad and caused problems back in the day... but now im aware and i need everyone else who may interact with them to know that they are not good people and have hurt me personally. They have caused me trauma that I am trying really hard to get over but i fear its going to take a long time...

This is MY personal story and account of interactions with these people and I will continue to believe what I know from personal experience. If you come to me, trying to defend any of these people or try to make light of this situation, you will no longer be allowed to associate with me. This fucked me up, and I will not compromise on this, you will no longer feel safe to be around if you condone how these people treated me. If you do not believe my words, then fine, but i will no longer desire company from people who will condone this type of treatment that I had to endure and have been suffering through the aftereffects of.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my story and im sorry if it ended up too personal at all. But, I really hope those that read this will... understand my timid behavior? Why im ALWAYS saying sorry? Why im always so scared in group setting like aggies, why im always so apprehensive and timid and keep thinking people are lying to me about really liking having me around? Its because of this, this is truly and horribly messed up to do to someone... making them feel so low and horrible about their existence ...

if you have any questions, i am willing to answer them...