#Horror Villains React

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror House Reacts: To Bubba Hugging Them.

Warnings: Its crack.

~

Billy Loomis: *Thinking* 'Holy s h i t. Leatherface is gonna kill me.'

Carrie White: *Nervous* "Ohh, Bubba!... haha... Are you- Are you okay? Um... " *Gives in after a moment, burying her head in Bubba's soft warm chest.* "Thank you Bubba... " // She doesn't care about the smell or the rotten flesh- she is so affection starved!!

Chucky Lee Ray: "... Put me the fuck down or lose your teeth. Its your choice. And also- jesus fucking christ, Bubs, take a shower."

Freddy Krueger: *Thinking, because his face is mushed into Bubba* '... this is how I die. Huh. Suffocated by a FAT GUY'S TITS- '

Jason Voorhees: Jason doesn't really cuddle him back because he is not physically affectionate- but this is his brother and he loves him, so he very calmly gives his back a pat. Like yeah I got you. You alright? Did someone hurt you? Does he need to kill someone?

Jennifer Check: "Oh, god, Bubba- you stink like raw meat left out in the sun marinating in ass sweat all fucking day- let me go!"

Jerry Dandridge: *Sighhh* "Okay buddy bring it in, but ah... a quick one, okay? Because this is cashmere, and I have a dinner date- "

Michael Myers: Oh Bubba you have nerve. He doesn't move, obviously, but um... he is not pleased.

Pamela Voorhees: True class, here. She doesn't even flinch, gives him a pat on the back and a smile, and offers him a cookie. He's a good boy, just like her Jason.

Patrick Bateman: *So so close to flipping out... standing there stiff as a board with Bubba squeezing him... eye twitching... *

Pennywise: *Alarms Bubba by reciprocating and wrapping his arms around... and around... and around and around and around Bubba until he's basically ensnared by elongated clown arms, cackling.*

Stu Macher: Initiates the hug. Chucks his arms out, like, "C'MERE, BUBBA! GIMMIE THAT SNUGGLE." Look, Stu is over the moon to meet his idols XDD I mean, he'd prefer to get a hug outta Michael or Freddy... but that seems unlikely... so he is getting that cuddle outta Bubba XD

Tiffany Valentine: Just thinking 'What would Martha Stuart do, what would Martha Stuart do, what would Martha Stuart do- '

[weedle-testaburger]

I have this hot take that eldritch horror creatures are really overrated. leaving aside how much they're based on wanking off hp lovecraft's legacy (you know, of being an insane racist who wrote a bunch of books where he goes 'the monster was so scary I couldn't possibly tell you anything about it'), if I don't understand anything about a monster I don't even find it interesting, let alone scary. give me a motive

[damselneedssaving]

how would they react to you calling them your hero?

batboys x f!reader

"Seriously—" He blinks, unable to rip his eyes from you as you turn to face him under the glow of the warm moonlight. "—I mean it," you continue, quiet, sincere, "You're always there for me—always there to save me, even when I do more than enough to prove I don't deserve it." You take a deep breath, looking him straight in the eyes. "You... "You're my hero."

line divider by @cafekitsune

-> DICK GRAYSON <-

Dick's breath hitches.

Something in his chest feels light. Fluttery. Almost... familiar.

'Almost' because there's something different about it this time, something... electric.

Your words carry this weight, an honesty he's never heard from you before, one deep and true; full and new.

You speak as though unwarranted, like there's no thought behind your words, like what you're saying is real. Natural.

Easy.

The thought has Dick's heart skip a beat, hands clamming up beneath his gloves as he all but falls into an ocean of pink, the dye of which is situated nonchalantly in your pretty little hands.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Dick..?"

He gives you no time to react before his arms are up and around you, pulling you to his chest, holding you close, refusing to let go.

Your hero, you called him.

Oh Princess...

"...You have no idea how much that means to me."

-> JASON TODD <-

Jason blinks again, cogs in his brain whirring as your eyes regard him with the warmth of the sun even while twinkling under the stars of the night.

It takes a moment or two for him to re-register reality, for him to see anything but the admiration in your gaze, but once he does, once he finally allows himself room to breathe, he wastes not a second more, replying in a drawl that comes almost too soon, "I'm no hero, doll."

Your lips pull into a frown, and Jason turns his head to the side, the sight like a hammer to his chest.

"I'm hardly a man."

A beast more like it. A monster wearing human skin. Certainly no one worthy of you.

You deserve more, a man not as dangerous, one that didn't rise from a pit like some sort of crappy horror movie villain, one that doesn't have so much blood on his hands despite being, as you say, a hero.

"I've done shit no hero would ever do."

"I know," your voice cuts through the air, soft and grounding.

Jason turns his head back to you just in time to catch the way your hand reaches for his own, and he finds that, even through his gloves, he can still feel your skin.

He's practically memorised the feeling.

"You're still my hero though."

Jason parts his lips to argue, gears himself up to shoot you down, but all it takes is just one look into your eyes for him to close them again. For him to pause and think that maybe, just maybe—

—he can allow himself this.

-> TIM DRAKE <-

Tim's eyes widen, and he can feel the heat that crawls up his face before he can see it in the reflection of your gaze.

"I—I, uh—"

He watches himself stumble back through your eyes, the sight alien and probably something embarrassing enough to haunt him for the rest of his life had your words not been the only thing currently echoing in his mind.

Your hero. You called him your hero.

God, it's everything he's ever wanted and more.

This here? This is why he begged Batman for this job.

So he can be a hero. Your hero.

Holy shit, he's your hero.

Is this what it feels like? To be looked upon like a lifeline? Like a tether keeping one from plummeting to what would surely be their doom?

Is this what it feels like? To be depended on like an air bubble? Like the last source of oxygen in the depths of the very sea itself?

Is this what it feels like? To be your hope? Your home? Your hero?

If it is, then Tim doesn't ever want it to stop.

"Thank you, [Name]."

-> OLDER DAMIAN WAYNE <-

Damian moves his hand up to cup your own, the warmth of your skin bleeding into his cheek and then his eyes as he looks at you like you've strung up all the stars in the night sky just for him.

And maybe you have. He certainly would believe it if you said so.

"Beloved..." he breathes out, hand trailing down your own before dipping to where his other one rests at your waist and pulling you close, "I'm not worthy."

Your lips curl up, eyes crinkling around the corners as you loop your arms around his neck, breath hot against his skin. "Didn't I just say that I'm the one not worthy?"

His cape billows behind him, reaching for the hem of your skirt like he, himself, often does your hand—for safety, for comfort, for you.

"Nonsense, Habibti. I would tear down the world if it meant saving you."

And he would.

And you know he would.

"See? That's why you're my hero, Dami."

Warmth blooms through his chest at the mischievous sparkle in your eye, his gaze growing heavy with all the words he wishes to say, but can't find the perfect way to.

So instead, he simply says, "Yes, well, I suppose you've got me there."

—And accepts, with a smile, his fate as your hero.

[cheshitora]

this panel of him and kaiser. i think thats what sold it for me

theres something abt their "grrrr" and angry/batshit crazy faces that makes me twirl my hair around my finger

im not ashamed to admit that i have to add rin to the growing list of my husbands....

[fluff-n-cookies]

Dabi simply adores you, his precious daughter. But he didn’t always love you.

Part 2

Warnings: attempted murder (failed), canon typical violence, robberies, alcohol+drugs, references to child neglect, implied pedophilia (nothing graphic, and not towards reader), teenage parenthood, minor swearing.

reader has blue eyes like Dabi's.

let me know if you spot anymore.

note: I swear, it's not that bad, just fluff with kinda angsty undertones, cuz' it's Dabi! what do you want

I mean, he was only a teenager when he had you, fresh to the villain business at the wonderful age of 16 and a half. He decided it’d be a wonderful time to drink his sorrows away one night, one horrid, awful night. He ended up fucking a woman he did not know, who was surely much older than he, in the back alley of a bar in the worse parts of town. Amidst the filth of the nearby dumpster, it was here that he would make the single worst decision of his life, either that, or the best. He really doesn’t know.

but alas, he ended up with a little swaddled baby 9 months later when the same woman angrily shoved you into his arms, declaring something unintelligible before storming out of the bar again. Dabi, who at the time was drunk and higher than a kite. didn't react. when you started crying, he didn't react. when you cried louder, thrashing around in his hold he still didn't react. he was in his own world at that moment, shutting out everything except the burn of the cheep beer going down his throat. it wasn't until he was kicked out of the bar along with you for being too disruptive and he fell asleep in one of the abandoned buildings nearby only to wake up hung over and disoriented did he realize what he had done; when he saw a quite malnourished baby laying down on his jacket that he chucked on the floor last night. your swaddle all dirty by now.

he did nothing but stare at you for a while, the pounding in his head as well as the harsh rays of the mid day sun didn't help much. He was still just a kid, a villain too, and homeless. he wasn't ready to have a child. for a split second he thought of leaving you there, God, you looked just like Fuyumi when she was a baby. but you looked worse, like you were barely living. had you... had you died during the night? he stumbled to your side of the room, trying his best to avoid the rumble of the deteriorating building. it would truly have been a miracle if you happened to survive in such conditions.

carefully, he flipped you onto your back, putting a warm hand on your chest. god. you were barely breathing. barely responding too. Dabi's breath hitched, had he nearly killed his own child? he stayed like there for a few moments. looking right at you. he really had no idea what to do. you're already on the verge of death, if you died right now, would it really matter? you've been on this earth for only a few days it seems, your mother left you with a villainous teenage father who could let you wither away in an abandoned building.

if you were to die right now. he could spare you the pain of having to live with him, you'd never have to know the horrors of life.

he could just light one flame,

let it fill the room with smoke,

and watch as your lungs give up

and you simply stop breathing.

...

you'd just be another person who never got to see their future.

Gently, he stroked your tiny chubby cheek with a warm finger.

he nearly laughed at the thought, killing his first child, just like his own father had done with him. he pulled you into his arms, preparing to hold a small flame right up to your face until your fragile little body couldn't take it anymore. then he'd leave your body here as he burns down the rest of the building. a fitting memorial. but before he could do anything,

he paused - you - you squirmed in his hold. cracking open your eyes to stare at him with soulless blue eyes that mirrored his own, tried and scared. an expression that surely should never be on the face of a child.

Dabi truly can't quite recall what happened in that moment when he held you in his arms. all he remembers is a clenching in his heart. maybe it was the alcohol and the drugs. but he felt the emptiness and the pain. the gut wrenching, soul crushing pain, the type that he felt whenever his father would ignore him, again and again. he pain he felt when he saw his childhood home again after so many years, only to find that nothing had changed; he was forever gone and no body gave a fuck.

but- you. just you. you were just like him. you wanted nothing more than a little bit of love. would it truly be so bad if he gave it to you? he'd keep you around, for a while at least.

that's what he told himself as he found himself stealing diapers and baby powder and formula and what not from a convenience store, only to fuck up making formula and changing a baby. he did a little victory dance with you in his arms when he finally figured it out.

but that's only after he managed to get some midwife or other doctor to do a lil' check up on you. (only to knock them out for the police to find their body hours later.) anxiously analyzing everything the doctor was doing, making mental notes to himself to have you try and eat better.

he tended to do more robberies and muggings these days, only to spend it all on a shabby little one bedroom condo in one of the cheaper (and by proxy, crime ridden) parts of the city. it was better than being a single parent living on the streets I guess.

he ended up turning the bedroom into your nursery, if you would call a room that could barely hold a twin sized bed, full of nothing but a crib, a small closet full of dirty clothes, and a big stack of baby products in one corner; a nursery. he instead slept on the couch most nights. but he would forever find himself running back into your room whenever you would cry, he almost always ended up letting you sleep on his chest on the couch. both arms slung over your tiny body so there would never be a chance you'd fall out of his grip.

but life got better with time it seems. he started taking bigger jobs, bank robberies, sometimes murders every now and then. he built a good reputation for himself. and you. you grew on him. who was once a fragile little thing, right to death's doorstep. now, when you smiled, he felt ever so full of life.

he liked how you would always wait by the door after he went out to run an "errand", always being right where he left you and babbling happily when he came back. making a little gesture to be picked up and carried.

he liked how you tended to boss him around most of the time. you could point to where you wanted to go and he would happily carry you there. he isn't even aware of what he's doing, you could yell at him (as best as a baby can anyways) and he'd meet your demands near instantly without much complaint. someone else would have to point it out for him to notice.

he especially liked how you would stare at him with wide eyes as he would smoke on the balcony with the glass door shut. every night, it was a routine, just after dinner, Dabi would snag a pack of cigarettes, and sit outside on the balcony to smoke, occasionally looking back inside through the glass door to see what you were doing. he would put on a little cartoon or set out some toys for you. and while that'd keep you entertained for a while, you'd still drift towards him, looking back at him through the glass to try and get his attention. his smoke breaks kept getting shorter and shorter because of that.

he liked how every time he woke up, you would always be with him. looking up at him with those big blue eyes that he gave you. especially the way you'd always look at him with nothing but love and joy.

the same eyes that he used to look at his own father with disdain and fury.

he'll joke around that you're too clingy, always following him, attached to the hip, quite literally with how often he holds you on his hip. But deep down he knows he'd be torn apart if you were gone from him for even one hour. he can't live without your little hugs and giggles and stupid playtime's and everything. please, your love means the world to him.

but he was still only ever a boy, a boy who never quite got to grow up the way he was meant to. but you will forever be the reason he'd try and be a man. for his little girl. he remembers how he'd make more frequent trips to the grocery store, how he'd stock up on medicine for kids, how he'd buy cleaning supplies to somehow make the rinky dinky condo you both live in a tad bit more suitable for a child.

you're the reason he even joined the league. this world has already killed him, and while he was given a second chance as Dabi will it really ever be the same?

but you. you are so full of life, so perfect, awaiting a future unknown. he'll sculpt this world with the second chance he's been given. for your father, Touya, may be dead, but Dabi is not, and he is very much ready to give you what he never had, even if he dies again in the process.

but with the league comes responsibility, a time consuming responsibility. gone are the days when he'd lounge around at home all day and only leave to take you to the playground or grocery shopping, and the occasional robbery when he was low on cash. now he was busy! can you believe it? now Dabi may have skipped nearly all of high school but he wasn't that stupid enough to leave a child home alone for hours on end. hence, he came to the conclusion of daycare. the horrid, horrid daycare.

he nearly cried when he realized his little girl was growing up so fast, it seemed like just last week he was holding you on his hip as he heated up a bottle of formula in his hand to finally get you to shut up and sleep. that only a couple days ago you walked your first ever steps after he came home early with your favorite snacks. he wasn't even able to record it he was too busy sobbing as you held onto his legs to steady yourself waiting for him to pick you up. it literally felt like yesterday you said your first words, "baba" after he jokingly started calling you cry baby.

this actually led to quite a lot of problematic nicknames, cry baby became Babs and Babs became bun and bun became bunny and bunny---- (i'm losing it as I write this.)

but nonetheless, it hurts. so every morning he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to haul you out of bed and get you all pretty and dolled up for the day. he lets you choose your shirt and pants and bows and what not. tying up your little baby sized shoes to take you to the next district over. now, he would've enrolled you into a daycare much closer to home but he really wants you to be safe, and unfortunately anything and everything in your neighborhood without his supervision is not and never will be, considered safe. so he'd much rather escort you via public transport to the richer neighborhoods every single morning than have you be in danger of any kind. sure, you're a little out of place, with thrifted clothes and frizzled up hair from only ever using your dad's 4-in-1 shampoo. and he's definitely out place. hence why he never quite shows his face to the teachers. always ushering you into the daycare building before leaving as fast as he came. The teachers think that he's your older goth brother who's being forced to take you to school by his parents. is it exhausting? yes, very much so. will he do it on repeat for the rest of his life if that means ensuring your happiness and safety? most certainly yes.

---

PART 2 IS HERE

that'll be all. I might do a part 2. tried something different with my writing this time and hope it's better than the rest of my works.

my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box

send me an ask, I fucking love hearing from you guys.

edit, 4 hours after posting: I'm very disappointed that I still have no new asks. very disappointed in you all.

[slut4thebroken]

Claiming Victory

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Scarecrow x vigilante!reader

Summary | An encounter with the infamous Scarecrow doesn’t go the way you expected.

Warnings | non con, smut, dry humping, degradation, rape threats (mentioned once), dacryphilia, fear toxin, groping, idk lol.

Words | 1.6 k

Notes | Lmaooo I almost didn’t think I was going to finish this by October 1st 🙈

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 1: dry humping

He stalked toward you slowly, savoring the sight of you screaming and staggering away from him, barely able to keep yourself on your feet. He ached to know what you were seeing, but just watching you like this was enough to satisfy him for now. When you tripped over your own feet and landed on your butt, he stopped and stared down at you through the mask, watching as you still tried to get away from him. Though now you were looking around yourself too, not just at him. With a sigh, he quickly walked forward, then nudged you onto your back with his foot and straddled your thighs, keeping you pinned in place. 

“It’s disappointing how easily you break.” He said calmly. You didn’t respond, as he expected, but when your screams turned into violent sobs, he sighed again. “I thought you’d have more fight in you.” His hand shot out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. He smiled when you brought your hands up to claw at his arm, trying to pull it away. 

“Should I see what the rest of this pretty face looks like?” He smirked, using his other hand to trace over the edge of your mask near your temple. Leaning down over you, he watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hide from whatever beautiful horrors you were being forced to see. But that only seemed to make things worse. Your crying intensified, echoing throughout the empty building, and you started writhing, trying to find an escape. 

When your hips bucked, he had to move his hand from your mask to the floor to stabilize himself. He let out a sharp breath as he remained leaning over you, the position making it easier for you to rub against his growing bulge. 

Tears streamed down your face and you started mumbling incoherent pleas. His hand moved from your face to your neck and he squeezed tightly— based on your reaction, his toxin must have made this action seem far worse than it actually was. 

He tilted his head as he watched you with morbid fascination. You looked so beautiful like this. 

Your hands started clawing at his face now, trying to push him away or hurt him enough to make him get off of you, but he just huffed and put both of your arms by your sides, under his legs. He leaned back over you and started subtly rocking his hips. 

“Isn’t it so much better when you don’t fight?” He cooed, his voice sounding far from comforting. “Always trying to be so strong… so brave.” He hummed thoughtfully as he placed a firm hand on your waist. 

“You think you’re untouchable, that no one could ever possibly beat you…” Slowly dragging his hand up your side, he watched your reaction carefully and continued, “Yet here you are... wearing this skin tight suit,” his hand finally reached your breast and he squeezed roughly, making you cry harder, “pinned down by little ol’ me… and not untouchable at all.” He smirked, groping you even harder as his hips sped up. 

“How about we see what we’re working with?” He asked rhetorically. You barely reacted when he grabbed the zipper at the base of your neck, slowly pulling it down to your navel. “Oh wow…” He grinned, pushing your suit open to expose your bra. “Let's get this out of the way though.” Grabbing the middle of your bra, he tore it in half easily, then pushed it open so he was finally able to see you. He couldn’t help the low groan that slipped out. 

“Look at you.” He cooed, placing his hands on your stomach and snaking them up until he could grab your tits. You sobbed louder, but your voice was becoming hoarse from all of the screaming and crying. “Do all of the villains you fight get to pin you down and grope you? Or am I just special.” He chuckled, knowing it was the latter. 

You started thrashing under him again, trying to escape him or whatever you were seeing. He removed his hands and smirked when he watched the way your tits moved. 

“You can fight a little harder… Come on.” He encouraged teasingly. When your body kept writhing and your hips kept bucking, he cursed under his breath, savoring the feeling of you rubbing against his bulge. “That’s it. Fight a little harder and maybe you’ll actually do some damage.” He laughed quietly. 

After another moment, he reached for your tits again, but focused on your nipples this time. You cried loudly when he pinched and pulled, rolling them between his fingers in a way that wouldn’t feel good even if his toxin wasn’t in your system. Based on your screams, he knew he was doing a good job, but you were starting to get just a little too loud for his liking. 

He paused and leaned back up, then quickly removed his tie. Your cry was cut off by him shoving the fabric in your mouth, effectively muffling your sounds. He didn’t bother tying it around your head since you weren’t cognizant enough to even realize what was actually happening. 

“That’s a good girl. Keep crying for me, but stay nice and quiet.” He cooed as he leaned back over you again, hovering a few inches above your face. His hips started rocking again, but his movements were faster and more eager. Moving his hands back to your tits, he resumed groping you, making you whine. 

“You like this, don’t you?” He chuckled, carefully studying your expression. “Finally getting put in your place… being humped and groped on the floor, the way a little whore deserves.” All you could do was cry— your body was barely even struggling underneath him now, just squirming weakly. 

“You know, I think I deserve a reward for being the first villain to actually vanquish you.” He said with a cruel smirk, reaching for your mask again. You didn’t even react when he slowly removed it from your face. “Oh, look at you…” He cooed, studying your face intently. He already knew you were beautiful, but seeing your entire face… it was even better than he thought. His gaze shifted between your eyes and your lips hungrily, getting worked up by the feeling of you squirming under him and the sound of your pitiful sobs. Then he shifted his focus down to your neck. At the sight of your smooth skin, completely untouched and untainted… he growled low in his throat and quickly removed his mask. 

“I think I’ll leave you with some reminders of what happened tonight...” He said, sounding almost smug, then leaned down to start kissing your neck. His hips were still rutting incessantly and he savored your muffled whimpers and cries as he sucked the skin into his mouth, leaving as many marks as he could. 

His cock was practically throbbing in his pants by now, begging to be released, but he kept his focus on you. He trailed kisses down your chest, still covering your pretty skin with evidence of his assault, then took your nipple in his mouth. You let out a muffled sob that turned into a scream when he suddenly bit down on the hardened bud. He chuckled softly against you and kissed his way across your chest to give your other nipple the same treatment. 

Your thrashing had died down significantly, as had your sounds. Now you were mostly just sobbing weakly and the sound was enough to send him barrelling toward his orgasm. He moved up so his lips brushed your ear, his hips still humping you frantically. “Next time I’m going to fuck you.” He whispered, moaning quietly at the thought. “Sorry… rape you.” He chuckled, not really knowing or caring if you were able to hear his promise with his toxin still in your system.

Jonathan leaned back so he was hovering over your face and took a moment to admire you. There was a light sheen of sweat on your forehead, your brows were scrunched together and your eyes squeezed tight. The tear tracks covering your cheeks were what finally sent him over the edge. 

Feeling his balls tighten up, he quickly lifted himself back up to open his pants and take out his cock. He shuffled forward over your body a little and stroked his length rapidly, then hot come was landing on your chest, covering your tits and even getting on your suit. He yanked his tie out of your mouth and moved up a little more to get the last few ropes of come on your face. 

With a satisfied grunt, he sat back on your stomach and caught his breath, listening to your hoarse, broken sobs as you thrashed under him, probably having a hard time breathing under his weight. He sighed and reached for your neck, squeezing as hard as he could while pushing on your windpipe. Your mouth opened and you were gasping for air, desperately trying to take in oxygen as your thrashing increased tenfold until finally it all stopped and you went limp beneath him. 

While you were knocked out, he tucked his cock back in his pants, then put his mask back on and pocketed his tie that was slightly damp with your saliva. He left your suit unzipped and your mask on the ground, satisfied that you’d know, or at least have an idea of exactly what he did. Then he got up and walked out, leaving you in the abandoned warehouse. 

He considered taking you, after all, he deserved a trophy for being the first villain to ever conquer you… But the chase was the best part, so he let you continue to roam free for now, building up anticipation for the next time you’d encounter him. 

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

Part 3 Stalking

Previous

Danny's smile fell as he watched is brother's face twist in horror, watched his brother be escorted away, watched his father not recognize his own. He hadn't expected a warm greeting but had at least hoped to have a conversation or even on confrontation. Sh he could at least tell his brother he was sorry for leaving him and sorry for being a failed brother. Sorry for making him kill him and sorry for melting away. That conversation didn't happen, the look of hatred he had prepared himself to see didn't happen either. Instead he saw a face on his brother he never wanted to see again.

A look of horror like Damian was watching his body melt away again. Like they were losing each other all over again. Maybe coming here was a bad idea..

Vlad placed a hand on Danny's shoulder and smiled at him. He just nodded at Danny and walked out of the gala with him. There was no reason to stay after that and Danny didn't seem to be capable of continuing the night after that. However before they could leave they had caught the attention of Bruce's oldest. Richard Grayson-Wayne, a flamboyant and talented man who assisted his father with a few charities as well as had his own life as a police officer in Bludhaven. As well as a night life as the famed Nightwing. He wasn't stalking his brother's family he just wanted to know his brother was safe. It's not stalking.

Richard introduced himself as Dick with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. If they were fully human neither Danny nor Vlad would have noticed the rage bubbling from Dick as he spoke to them so politely. He was trying to get a feel for them or that's at least what Danny thought. Maybe he should have just went to see his brother in his little hero costume instead of at a gala. Maybe that would have been the better plan. Danny could freak out about this when they got home.

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Dick didn't know what happened in that little interaction but he didn't like it. He had never seen Damian like that before not even when Bruce was presumed dead. Not when he spoke of his grandfather, not when he saw Slade, not even when he was in near death situations. Damian rarely cried and when he did he hid. But this time he was clinging to Bruce like he wouldn't see tomorrow and Dick wanted to know why.

Dick had always been protective of his family, the family that he had pulled together by the skin of his teeth. He would have to investigate, with the help of the others maybe. They'd have to ask Damian what to expect first.

The Masters seemed eager to leave after that interaction with Damian. Which was odd, the gala had only just begun, there were plenty of guests who were still trickling in. Were they just there for that interaction? That made Dick angier as he took a look at Vlad Masters as he'd done plenty of times before. Neither Bruce or him have even really trusted Mr.Masters, even as a Kid he always seemed odd. Then he looked at the kid next to him. The kid who looked exactly like Damian except he had icy blue eyes that kind of reminded him of Bruce just lighter. The kid's eyes almost glowed.

Was that why Damian reacted? Did this creep clone his youngest brother? Was he some sort of Villain they've faced before but not realized? Dick placed a tracker on both of them before letting them leave.

----------------------------------------------------------

Damian was out of it for the rest of the night and most of the morning too. Bruce was lonely able to peal away from Damian after he had passed out though that didn't mean he had left his son. He stayed with him almost the entire night as soon as they got back to the manor. His son, the one raised by assassins, raised to show as little fear and weakness as possible had cried into him for an unknown reason after seeing the Masters, of course he wasn't going to leave his side.

The next morning Damian got up at the same time as usual though Bruce was by his side sitting in a chair Alfred had likely brought him. He didn't look to had slept last night. Damian rubbed his face still slightly puffy from last night. He had inadvertently upset his routine meaning he was still in his suit. He would try to get ready for the morning, then after breakfast he would go and research the Masters. Find out more about his brother because that was definitely his brother. He just knew it.

Everything was fine, Damian had taken a shower, gotten dressed, and avoided looking in the mirror. Avoiding looking at a face that stopped feeling like his a long time ago. Everything was fine as he and his father went down stairs for breakfast not saying a word about last night though he can practically feel his father's questions. Everything was fine as they sat for breakfast and talked as they normally did even if he did catch his siblings occasional glances. Everything was fine, he was fine, last night was fine, he just needed to find his brother and call his mother-

"Dams?" Richard spoke softly as Damian sat staring down at his plate of breakfast instead of eating it. Damian jumped every so slightly that a normal person wouldn't have noticed but a bat would have. Damian ost in thought and unaware of his siblings staring. He was distracted, "I'm fine"

Stephanie's face twisted at that as Cassandra just shook her head. Richard spoke again softly, "Dams, we're here for you, we get if you don't want to talk about it right now. We just need to know if we should expect a threat"

Damian bristled and shouted without meaning to. He's been doing so much without meaning to lately. "Danyal, would never harm us! Danyal wouldn't-" do what I did. Damian cut himself off and huffed as his family stared at him. As Richard put it before he had to 'Rip off the band aid', why was breathing becoming so difficult? Why couldn't he look at the others? His mouth went dry as he tried to find the words but couldn't. "Danyal, he's important-"

Alfred's hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder. A grounding hand that made the world spin back into place momentarily. Breakfast ended soon after that.

Damian began his investigation of the Masters household unknowing that his family was doing the same. Damian found that Danny Fenton now Danyal Fenton Master was the godson of Vlad Masters. He had previously lived with Madeline and Jack Fenton. He moved to the Masters residence after Jasmine Fenton left for college. He seemed to have lived a normal life up until living with Masters. Though finding anything from the town of Amity Park was almost impossible. Every time he did something would corrupt or whatever he was looking at would disappear as soon as he found it.

Vlad Masters was a little easier, Former Mayor of Amity Park, a business man that always seemed far from trustworthy. Stephanie once told him about how she had theories about him being a vampire. His company VladCo held the patents to quite a few little devices, trackers, weapons, components of cars, and a few smaller medical devices. This led to his Fortune still not nearly as much as the Wayne family but he was still a multimillionaire. Unfortunately, he couldn't drop everything in the middle of the school year or while his family was so worried about him. He'd need to tell them soon. Damian just- a part of him didn't want to. A part of him wanted to find his brother on his own to make sure it was really his brother. That's why he hasn't called his mother yet. Mother would immediately go see him, see if his claims were true. For some reason that scared him.

Damian wasn't as good at hacking as Drake or Gordon but he was bad at it either. It may have taken longer but he did manage to hack into the Master's security system and proceeded to watch them. Danyal seemed happy, always tinkering, laughing, and smiling. He was still obsessed with stars from how his room was decorated with littered with posters of stars, space ship models, and most concerningly a model of the Watch Tower. It shouldn't have been possible to make a model of the space base but there it was tucked away on a shelf alongside other models and a sci-looking gun.

It was unfortunate that the cameras didn't have audio but Damian made do with just watching. His brother seemed so normal until the cameras would glitch out and suddenly he couldn't see his brother anymore though he'd know he was there because that would be the only camera that's scrambled. It was odd. Damian was almost positive that was his brother, Danyal Al Ghul. That was the brother he killed so long ago. He'd continue to watch.

----------------------------------------------------------

Tim was loosing his fucking mind and honestly so was the rest of the family because WHAT THE FUCK. Damian, the little Demon shit was upset by the Masters enough to apparently sob into Bruce. SOB. The Masters may not be a threat to them but they were definitely a threat to the Masters. No one makes their youngest cry and gets away with it.

Tim was given as much caffeine as he wanted for this 'special occasion' which left him cackling and working as he grinned like the cheshire cat. It was time to dig up some dirt. Maybe he should drag Bernard into this, he did love doing this kind of thing too. Maybe it could be a date.

Next

[lolbree]

returning to my roots for just one second ha. [Click "keep reading" for some design notes and lore! I gave my own interpretations of their personalities/character below. :D]

So I've been really into writing recently. For those who follow my main you would've seen me post lore dumps on my ocs! So honestly I thought it'd be fun to come up with some fanloid concepts. Itz funsiez.

Fanloids are what they sound like; a fan's interpretation of a pre-existing Vocaloid. These guys can be fucking anything. A fan's imagination has no limits. Two of the most notable versions of a fan's Miku are the "dark mikus"; Zatsune and Hagane Miku. Zatsune's the "evil" villainous version of Miku, while Hagane's kinda just a chill metalhead version. The two are like sisters and bond over their Fanloid origin, but they're completely different in personality.

Zatsune takes pride in being a Miku Fanloid. Miku is undoubtedly the most popular Vocaloid in existence, so she wears being an interpretation of the world's most famous singing robot like a badge. She's pretty full of herself, sort of envious of the popularity Miku really gets, so much so that she'll impersonate Miku (in the worst way possible) so the other Vocaloids are like "man Miku's kinda being a dick today". She's sort of the villain that acts as a complete pushover and foils their own plans every single time.

Hagane's the more laid back one. She honestly was just created to be a somewhat pessimistic metalhead version of Miku. She has no vendettas towards Miku like Zatsune does. She kinda finds Zatsune's jealousy silly considering she's not the only Fanloid of Miku out there (girl that ego is HUGE on Zatsune). Zatsune sometimes tries dragging her into the antics of bullying Miku, Rin, and Len, but is always met with Hagane not giving a shit and kinda telling her to chill out. Her persona onstage is more aggressive and eccentric, but backstage, she mostly she keeps to herself. She just likes the guitar.....and LED lights.

You might be wondering what Miku herself thinks of these two? You know what they say. Identity theft is the biggest form of flattery! ...Jk no she doesn't mind the Fanloid Mikus, but I mean how would you react seeing two dark versions of yourself at first. Naturally the other main Vocaloids were like "wtf" when they saw two other Mikus show up.

Okay now for the design notes!:

Zatsune was modeled to have more sharper edges compared to Miku's roundness. Hagane was designed to be more lanky given her more "doomer" personality.

Both Zatsune and Hagane edited their own voices so it's "rougher" since originally, as prototypes, they just had the same voice as Miku herself. ...And they didn't like that.

Zatsune's also pretty picky about singing. If it's a Disney-villain esque musical number, hell yeah! Horror music? Hell yeah! Sappy music about friendship? Hell no!

Being robots, they can paint themselves without worry. Hence the black lipstick on both of them.

Hagane's hair's a little messier due to her being a hardcore metal robot. Rocking it out on stage has gotta mess that up a little bit.

Hagane uses glitter spray in her hair. Listen even the goth-loving metalhead can like glitter.

[writeriguess]

Crazy idea for request but the gears are turning in my brain please bare with me! What if Dabi never became a villain and instead he’s just a loser bf who lives with his dad at age 22. You’re endeavors brand new 20 year old rookie sidekick and you and Dabi have fallen madly in love and are dating (which endeavor is mad at Dabi for) and somewhere in the midst of your relationship Hawks joins you two every so often to have insane threesomes.

Well Denki thinks you’re totally hot and when he learns that you live at Shoto’s house he convinces him to let him in on the Friday night sleepover with him, Midoryia and Iida. While they’re over it just so happened to be a threesome night and when they all go to Dabi’s room to ask for an extra game controller they basically walk in on the three of you. Idk I feel like Denki’s reaction would be absolutely hilarious

The Loser

The Todoroki estate is huge, almost too big for a family that barely acts like one, and honestly? You’re still getting used to the sheer size of the place. But it has its perks—like a surprisingly cozy bedroom you practically live in now, since your boyfriend is a loser who still lives with his dad at twenty-two.

Said loser, Dabi, is currently sprawled on his bed, lazily flicking through his phone while Hawks—yes, the pro hero Hawks—leans against the headboard, shirtless and stretching his wings. You’re somewhere between them, already half undressed because, well, it’s Friday.

Friday means three things: Shoto’s sleepover with his dorky friends, Endeavor avoiding Dabi at all costs, and your regularly scheduled debauchery with your two boyfriends.

“You gonna keep staring at me or what?” Dabi drawls, locking eyes with you before a slow smirk spreads across his lips. “C’mon, baby. Don’t get all shy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mutter, crawling closer to him.

Hawks laughs, tossing an arm over your waist and pulling you closer. “And yet, you love him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. You do love him, even if he’s a deadbeat who refuses to move out of his dad’s house. Even if he and Hawks constantly corrupt you in ways that would make Endeavor combust if he ever found out.

The moment starts to heat up—Dabi’s hands roam lower, Hawks’ lips graze against your neck—but then there’s a knock at the door. A loud one.

“Dabi! Do you have an extra controller?!”

Your blood runs cold.

Dabi groans against your skin. “Fuckin’ hell—”

Before any of you can react, the door swings open, and in walk four unsuspecting idiots: Midoriya, Iida, Shoto, and worst of all—Denki Kaminari.

There’s a beat of silence.

And then—

“OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

Denki’s scream is so loud it could probably shatter glass. Midoriya, poor innocent Midoriya, looks like he’s about to pass out. Iida’s glasses slide down his nose as his face turns bright red. And Shoto—Shoto just blinks, unimpressed as if he’s seen this coming all along.

Dabi doesn’t even bother covering up, just sighs dramatically and sits up. “Jesus. What’s the matter, Sparky?”

“What’s the—WHAT’S THE MATTER?! DUDE! WHAT—WHO—WHY IS HAWKS HERE?!”

Hawks, being the menace he is, just grins and gives a lazy wave. “Yo.”

Denki’s brain short-circuits. He physically stumbles back, pointing aggressively between you, Dabi, and Hawks. “You—You’re dating Dabi?! And Hawks?! And—you—” He turns to Shoto, betrayal clear on his face. “YOU KNEW?!”

Shoto shrugs. “I assumed.”

Denki looks like he’s about to collapse. “I need to sit down. I need—” He glances around before recoiling in horror. “NOT HERE. NOT—OH MY GOD.”

Midoriya is still buffering, eyes darting between everyone, while Iida is frantically adjusting his tie, clearly trying to maintain some sense of decorum. “This—this is highly inappropriate!” he stammers. “And a breach of—of privacy!”

Hawks just chuckles, completely unbothered. “Well, you’re the ones who barged in. That’s on you, champ.”

Denki groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is not how I wanted to find out you have a boyfriend. Two boyfriends.” He peeks through his fingers. “How the hell did you bag TWO?”

Dabi snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Jealous?”

Denki glares at him. “YES.”

Midoriya finally finds his voice, albeit weakly. “This…this is a lot to process.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Denki snaps. “I just walked in on—on—” He gestures wildly. “I need bleach. For my brain.”

Shoto sighs and turns to you. “I assume you’ll be staying here tonight?”

You nod, trying not to die of secondhand embarrassment. “Uh… yeah.”

“Figured.” He turns to Denki, Iida, and Midoriya. “We should go.”

Denki opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but then his eyes flicker back to Hawks, who’s now very obviously smirking at him, and he promptly shuts up.

“I need therapy,” he mutters as Shoto drags him out.

Iida follows, muttering something about filing a formal complaint, while Midoriya just gives you a polite, if dazed, nod before stumbling after them.

As soon as the door clicks shut, silence falls over the room before Dabi throws his head back and laughs. “That was fucking gold.”

Hawks shakes his head, amused. “Think we traumatized the kid?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you groan, covering your face.

Dabi just smirks and pulls you back down onto the bed. “Well, that’s their problem. Now, where were we?”

[cursedcanon]

Bad makeup.

Jujutsu Kaisen Men Reacting to Waking Up with Hideous Makeup

(You did this on purpose, and your grinning at them as they look in the mirror.)

Characters:Gojo , Choso , Geto , Sakuna , Toji , Nanami , Yuji and megumi

GOJO:

He blinks at his reflection, tilting his head as if the absurd sight might change with a different angle. His normally handsome face is now a chaotic masterpiece of smeared neon eyeshadow, exaggerated clown lips, and what might be an attempt at blush but looks more like war paint.

“…Wow.” He grins, turning to you. “I always knew I could pull off anything, but this? This is next level.”

He poses dramatically in the mirror, stroking his chin. “I call this look ‘Cursed Beauty’. Thoughts?”

When you burst into laughter, he only makes it worse by striking model poses and blowing you kisses with his overdrawn lipstick-stained lips. If you were hoping to fluster him, you failed—now you have an overconfident, overdramatic Gojo parading around the house like a catwalk model.

And worst of all? He insists on keeping it on for the rest of the day.

CHOSO:

Choso blinks sleepily at his reflection, slowly taking in the horror before him. His entire face is coated in mismatched foundation shades, his eyebrows are drawn on like squiggly caterpillars, and his lips… oh god, his lips.

A deep sigh leaves his mouth. He looks at you, still groggy.

“…Why?”

But the grin on your face answers everything. He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something about “modern human courtship being confusing,” before returning his exhausted gaze to the mirror.

“I look like a villain in a children’s cartoon,” he deadpans.

Still, when you keep giggling, he just sighs and resigns himself to his fate. He wipes off the lipstick but leaves the rest on, because, well… if it makes you happy, then whatever.

SAKUNA:

The King of Curses scowls as he sees his reflection, his face now resembling an unholy fusion of a drag queen and a horror movie clown. His usual markings are buried under thick layers of concealer, and his eyes are drowning in an ungodly mix of hot pink and lime green eyeshadow.

His eye twitches. He turns to you slowly.

“You dare.”

You only grin wider, unfazed. “Oh, I dare.”

For a moment, it’s dead silent. Then, in a move that should terrify you but somehow only makes you laugh harder, Sukuna grins.

“Alright,” he purrs. “Your turn.”

He lunges. You scream and run, but there is no escape. Minutes later, you find yourself pinned beneath him as he drags his clawed fingers through random makeup products, ready to unleash his revenge.

GETO:

Geto blinks at himself, rubbing his eyes like he must be dreaming. But no, the nightmare is real—his elegant, usually composed face is now a canvas of neon catastrophe. His eyebrows are drawn thick and bushy, his cheeks are streaked with poorly blended contour, and his lips are overdrawn to a ridiculous degree.

“…I see.”

His voice is calm, but you can feel the betrayal in it. He turns to you, arms crossed, gazing at you like a disappointed parent.

“And what, exactly, was the artistic vision here?”

You burst into laughter, and he simply sighs. “I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t shave my eyebrows.”

Still, despite his outward exasperation, you catch him later that day staring at his reflection in the mirror, poking at his ridiculous lipstick job with an amused smirk.

TOJI:

Toji doesn’t react at first. He just stares at his reflection, taking in the mess of gaudy blue eyeshadow, bright pink lipstick, and absurdly thick fake freckles drawn all over his cheeks.

Then, slowly, he tilts his head to the side.

“…The hell is this?”

You’re practically wheezing at this point, unable to answer. He narrows his eyes, then looks back at the mirror, rubbing his chin like he’s assessing a battle strategy.

Finally, he smirks. “Y’know, I think I could rock this.”

And then—to your absolute horror—he struts out of the room, shirtless, in full makeup, walking with the confidence of a man who has never once doubted himself. Even worse, when Megumi walks in and stares at his father in stunned disbelief, Toji just grins and says:

“Your mom did this. Ain’t she talented?”

Megumi walks away immediately.

NANAMI:

Nanami stares at his reflection, his expression unreadable. His usually sharp and refined face is now smeared with what can only be described as “circus chic”—unevenly applied red lipstick, aggressively bright blush, and heavy eyeliner that makes him look like a washed-up rockstar.

He exhales sharply. “…I see.”

He turns to you, his stare piercing. You’re grinning like a kid who just got away with mischief.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he says, voice dangerously calm.

You just giggle. “Oh, we do. The understanding is that this was hilarious.”

Nanami closes his eyes for a long moment, visibly collecting himself. Then, with the dignity of a man who has given up, he wipes off the makeup with a tissue and goes to make coffee. He doesn’t speak to you for exactly twenty minutes.

Later, though, you catch him hiding a small, amused smile.

ITADORI: 

Yuji lets out a loud, exaggerated gasp the moment he sees himself in the mirror. His jaw drops.

“NOOOO! MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!”

He grabs his cheeks dramatically like he’s in a soap opera, then whirls around to you with an utterly betrayed look. “I trusted you! And this is how you repay me?!”

You’re already dying of laughter, and his over-the-top reaction just makes it worse. He collapses onto the floor in fake devastation.

But then—because it’s Yuji—he starts posing in the mirror. “Actually… wait. Maybe I can pull this off.”

And now you’ve created a monster, because Yuji spends the next half hour taking ridiculous selfies, fully embracing the disaster makeup.

MEGUMI: 

Megumi stares at his reflection. He blinks.

Then, he turns to you slowly, eyes unreadable.

“…Why.”

Your laughter only grows louder. His expression doesn’t change, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s holding back a sigh. He runs a hand down his face, smearing the disaster you’ve created.

“Great,” he mutters. “Now I look even worse.”

You half expect him to storm off and wash it off immediately, but instead, he just quietly walks out of the room. You later find him lying on the couch with a pillow over his face, silently regretting every life choice that led him here.

You also notice that, while he wiped off most of it, he left the ridiculous red lipstick on. Just to spite you.

[aimasup]

Just finished the Villainous official comic the Risky Heist and I gotta say. I just gotta say. Gimme the mic lemme just

A small part of me wishes the protagonists are Illuminarrow and Mawrasite instead. They're small-time villains in a world tangled with power-hungry maniacs and corruption that begins from the very top of authority, they fight their way to a better life and it's really interesting to see the world from their point of view

Uuu may nothing but good things come their way (•͈⌔•͈⑅)

I love?? How the exposition isn't dumped and boring?? And the leagues plus locations are set up in a really solid way! The pacing is somehow better than the cartoon I feel. And!! And the dozens of random characters are SO ENTERTAINING <3 Just brimming with personality in the brief periods they show up!!

Oh without spoilers I love it when characters are;; characters? (Only when they're intended to be deep by the writers of course) If that makes sense?? Like they have motivations and stick to their goals, with beliefs and hobbies, it all ties into what they symbolise and how they react to things RAARAFGHH GOLDHEART WHERE ARE YOU IN ALL THIS

Also the dread is so good. Like the events happening here are actually scary. Not to spoil but, the plot thickens. The plot was already thick but it thickens. I really hope the cartoon doesn't rely on the comics for lore, though it's pretty much accepted that Villainous is a multi-medium story right? At least Alan is telling the story how he wants. It would only be a little troublesome for us to piece the events together with internet now at least✌️ ( ಥ⌣ಥ)✌️

I'm telling you, it all comes down to power in this world, like the reputation kind

God the LAYERS

THERE'S ALWAYS A BIGGER FISH ETC ETC- how BH org influences the world down to the smallest details is done really well, you can really feel how imposing they are and how much control they have, the kind that can only exist in rumours even

But I canNOT GET OVER HOW THE FIGUREHEADS OF VILLAINY HERALDED AS PRACTICALLY MYTHOLOGICAL IN THEIR STATUS, AS TERRIFYING AS THE SUN IS TO AN ANT, ARE:

1. A sopping wet milk-soaked mop of a man who wishes, on a daily basis, that he couldn't Comprehend The Horrors

2. Que Lindo

3. Mr. 'Forgets His Lines Doing A Snack Commercial' over here

4. This fucking thing

And they all live in the same house and they hate each other.

Scary and silly is such a hard combo to balance!! Mate!! This godforsaken cartoon will haunt me until the day I die!!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Okay so i wanna see some more headcanons of the farmer ready to kick someone's ass so how about this:

Someone who is jealous of the farmer or like someone on like the enemy side, decided to kidnap their spouse to try and either ransom them or lure the farmer out, thinking it will be an easy win.

Then suddenly the next moment, the farmer already arrived before they could send a message to them (either the farmer got help from Mr.Qi or they track them down themselves), absolutely filled with rage and is now seconds away from beating the kidnapper.

How would the SDV/SVE bachelors and bachelorettes react to that?

I probably got the fastest rush of inspiration because holy cow, this is such a funny and cool scenario. Thank you so much, dear anon, for your ask! Enjoy! 💕

_____________________________

The bachelors/ettes reaction to their kidnapping for revenge/ransom, where their spouse Farmer, furious, comes to rescue them

SDV bachelors/ettes:

"You're demanding... 500 gold bars for me? I'm worth twice that, you know, even more! That's just insulting..." The kidnappers had already regretted their scheme before Farmer arrived to rescue Elliott, because the writer's outrage is already giving them a headache. Even with a gag in his mouth he's still talking! And just when they think the day can't get any worse, Farmer arrived quickly and kicked their asses. "Can you believe it, they only asked for 500 bars for me! I'm worth more than that, right dear?" Elliott was indignant to the core. Farmer grinned as they freed Elliott from the ropes, confirming that he was worth much more than that.

Sebastian did not think that in such a situation he would feel so... annoyed. Sure, being kidnapped by strangers had instilled fear at first, but when the leader of the gang started telling a self-pity story about how "I deserved everything, not Farmer, now I've stolen their lover and they're gonna pay!", Sebby thought the leader was some kind of cartoon villain. How absurd. Farmer who came in a couple of hours later also looks annoyed when the leader started telling their "villain arc". But before they can start, they get a fist in the face from Farmer, going straight to the realm of dreams. This was where Sebastian chuckled, at least something here was funny.

Shane's kidnapper was confident and said with a snide smile that either Farmer paid 500,000 gold for Shane or Farmer would "get their spouse in pieces". "800,000 gold and I'll ask Farmer not to kill you specifically." The kidnapper was a little taken aback by those words and the fact that the chicken man was completely calm. It was as if he didn't care. When the leader heard the noise and shouts of his minions, whose voices were quickly silenced, he turned to Shane in a panic and pleaded: " I only have 100,000 gold! Please, mercy!" "Alright, deal." Enough for the coop upgrade that Shane and his spouse have wanted for a long time.

"Heyyy, chill bro. Let's just talk, ok?" Unfortunately, Sam's smooth speech was met with only a rude "shut up, worthless musician!" in his direction. "I'm actually pretty good on guitar... So rude.." he muttered. When Farmer, angry as an ox, entered the room where their husband and the leader of the kidnapping "party" were, the kidnapper tried to soften the situation for themself. "They called me a worthless musician." The kidnapper turned around in horror at a smirking Sam. "And they also hit me." It wasn't true, but the kidnapper was already pale as ghost when Farmer turned red with rage after Sam's last words.

"Let me go now, or I'll kick your asses!" Though the ropes around Alex were tight, the athlete was unwilling to give up without a fight and continued to break free. "Shut up! You're going to pay for what your stupid Farmer-" "Don't you dare say that about my spouse!" The bravery was commendable, but the kidnapper was losing patience by now and wanted to send him into a knockout. But ended up knocking out themself as they didn't notice Farmer behind them. "What an asshole. I would have punched them!" Farmer reassured their really angry husband, as if it was Alex who was saving Farmer from bandits, not the other way around.

"Oh, Yoba..." Harvey would never have thought he would be kidnapped by anyone, but here he is - tied to a pole, surrounded by the six thugs. "Now we have to send a letter to that Farmer, and wait for the ransom, hehe. Easy money!" Harvey had been here for half an hour and was starting to get a little worried, but then he saw something in the distance that helped him gain confidence. "I hope, my friends, you stole my first aid kit too." "Need a sedative, doctor?" The leader didn't even have time to laugh at their own joke before they felt a chill run down their spine and turned around to see Farmer, sword in hand and an angry look in their eyes. "Not for me. For you."

Neither the gag nor the ropes helped - Abigail, irritated and angry, kicked, bit, punched and screamed as hard as she could, not giving her captors a moment's peace. Even with her sword taken away, the fighting girl put on quite a show, which made the bandits decide that the idea of ransoming Farmer wasn't such a great idea anymore. They were just thinking of letting Abby go free when Farmer came in, just as angry as their purple-haired wife. Abigail took back her sword and stood beside her spouse. The kidnappers made a note that they (if they survive) vow to themselves not to steal any more adventurers.

"So much negative energy around you... My friend, you can't live like that!" No matter how much the kidnapper tried to say that Emily wasn't their friend, but enemy's wife, the blue-haired girl insisted on helping her captor. Yes, she realises she's been kidnapped, but the lair she was kept in was so dark and stuffy that of course this poor person is only thinking evil thoughts! Farmer who had made a huge hole in the wall with a furious punch had at least brought in some light. To the villain lying unconscious, Emily would leave a note with "get well soon!", diet tips and exercises for mind and body.

The criminals who had kidnapped Haley decided that if they were going to get any money for the already-not-so-easy job, they were going to spend half of it on hearing care. Because Haley was screaming so loudly that it looked like the kidnappers' eardrums had already burst. Plus the girl didn't spare her manicure and scratched the gangsters' hands, and someone's face. The leader was already tired, but Farmer literally breaking through the wall of their lair made it clear that it wasn't the worst yet. And Haley, freed from the ropes, ran to hug Farmer. Of course she wasn't afraid, for she knew her spouse would rescue her!

Penny sat as quietly as a mouse, afraid to anger the two thugs guarding her cage. She still can't understand how she was just walking from the farmhouse in Pelican Town to get groceries and a minute later she was kidnapped and ransomed from Farmer for 100,000 gold. Yoba, she's so scared, where is her spouse...? The answer to her question was not long in coming: Farmer kicked open the cell door, knocked out the guards, and took Penny in their arms as they both left the room. The girl was still scared and confused, which made Farmer want to kick the kidnappers' arse again. But their beloved wife came first, everything else - later.

To Leah's credit, before the gang of kidnappers could tie her hands, the artist managed to knock out two of them and throw a sculpture hammer at the head of the gang leader. Even being kidnapped, the girl did not lose her courage, giggling a little at the leader, who, already with a bump on their head, goes back and forth and promises that she and her spouse will pay for all the "humiliations they have suffered in the past". What those "humiliations" were Leah didn't have time to ask (and didn't really want to know) before Farmer broke into the room, knocked out the rest of the bandits and put another bump on the leader's head. All this to Leah's cheers. She wasn't scared at all.

Maru kept calm and thought of an escape plan. "Okay, no big deal. I memorised the path when they dragged me here. Now I need to break the ropes on my arms, sneak past the guards, turn left and-" Maru couldn't think of her plan any further as her spouse, furious at their wife's kidnapping, kicked the wall completely and started punching all the bandits left and right. "Oh, alright then." Considering she had only been kidnapped for less than half an hour, Maru didn't even have time to be frightened before she was already free, making her way around the kidnappers who were lying on the ground unconscious.

SVE bachelors/etter:

To be completely honest, Lance wasn't even that angry at his captors so much as he was slightly ashamed that he, the second in command of The First Slash Clan, had allowed himself to be captured by the amateurs, even if they had used magic for this. He made a note to himself to resume certain training. The pink-haired man already wanted to burn his ropes with magical fire, but his beloved spouse Farmer, agitated and angry as a swarm of wasps, kicked all the bandits' asses with sword and magic. Lance broke his ropes and joined the fight as well, though at first, the adventurer wanted not to rush his release, but to watch Farmer in battle with admiration and love.

"Again?" No need for Magnus' kidnapper to be so surprised - he is already old wizard, so he's seen a lot of things in his life and has been kidnapped before. Once even by mages from Gotoro, but that's a story for later. And while the kidnapper was able to take the wizard by surprise and strip him of his magic, it wouldn't work that way with his dear spouse. To which the villain shouted "I'll take away the Farmer's magic too!" Maybe, but Farmer would just start beating them with their bare hands. Which is exactly what happened half an hour ago. The enraged Farmer didn't leave a wet spot on the poor fella, so Magnus even cast a healing spell.

"Scared, white collar? Will you call your mommy for help? Or your spouse? Ha!" In any other situation, Victor would really be shaking with fear and not understanding whether the kidnappers would really hurt him if Farmer didn't pay for his ransom. But his spouse was Farmer, a man who just yesterday had slaughtered a hundred serpents at Skull Cavern as if it were a routine outing. "I'm afraid you're the one who's going to need help." And immediately after those words, Farmer burst into the room, angry and covered in blood (not their own). The kidnappers were pale, and Victor hurriedly closed his eyes, because he'd never seen Farmer so angry before. Which meant the bandits would get hurt. A lot.

"This is outrageous! How dare you take me against my will and steal my jewellery! Dragging me here, in this damp and filthy place where rats run around! Disgusting!" If the kidnappers were expecting cries for help, tears and pleas for mercy from Olivia, they will be quickly disappointed. She's a combative woman, and even huge bullies can't intimidate the ex-Joja accountant. She's dealt with worse, believe her. Well, the thugs think they'll at least get their money's worth, Olivia's dressed rich. Yeah, right... they'll just get a hit from an angry Farmer who turned up as soon as they found out where the bastards had taken their wife.

"They will pay... For all my creatures of darkness that they destroyed in Badlands, for all their exploits that made me unable to take over the Valley. Farmer will pay. And you're going to help me do it! When they come for you, I'll- Hey, are you even listening to me?!" Please forgive Claire, but the poor girl was so tired (work + family) that she slept through both her kidnapping and the gang leader's speech. The cashier woke up already when she felt someone carrying her in the arms. Her spouse looked at Claire with a smile, saying that she should immediately take a vacation and rest. Lying on the ground criminals, unconscious? Um, that was... part of a dream, yes. Just a strange dream.

"I advise you to let go, because when the Farmer comes here, you'll be sorry." At Scarlett's attempts to reason with her captors, the gang only mocked the girl. "We're waiting for Farmer, dumbass, it's an ambush!" Scarlett just sighed tiredly and waited - she had no choice. The bandits had already set traps everywhere, but Farmer was not only good at fighting, but also smart, and made an ambush on the ambush. Then caught the kidnappers off guard and kicked everyone's ass. "Warned ya," Scarlett even felt a little sorry for the bandits - they wouldn't be walking normally for a while.

Not knowing what was happening, trembling at the predatory grins of the strangers, Sophia cried quietly, trying not to make too much noise so as not to anger her captors. The villains haven't had time to get the ransom yet, and already they're arguing over who gets more gold. Farmer broke through the wall, shocking everyone. The tears on their pink-haired wife's cheeks were enough for Farmer to see red, and all the kidnapper-losers were knocked out. Before Sophia could even realise what had happened, she was already, freed, clinging to he's spouse's neck as Farmer carried her in bridal style. "Just like a fairy tale.... 💖"

[girlgenius1111]

screaming underwater

barça x teen reader. r is dealing with mistreatment on her national team. the barça girls find out. warnings: descriptions of aforementioned mistreatment by national team.

------

The news came out of nowhere. One minute, Alexia, Pina, Patri, and Mapi were at a restaurant eating lunch, and the next, Pina was staring at her phone in horror, all the color drained out of her face. 

“Clau? What’s up?” Patri asked, catching the look on her best friend’s face. This halted the conversation between the other 2 girls, and Alexia and Mapi both turned to their younger teammate in concern. 

Claudia shook her head, remaining silent as she handed her phone to Patri, standing up and leaving the table. 

“I need some air,” she said shakily. Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, focusing their attention back on Patri for the moment. Patri had a rather similar reaction to Pina’s, practically shoving the phone into Mapi’s hand, and taking off towards the door her best friend had left through. 

“My god. Mapi, let me see.” Alexia complained, moving over so she could read over Mapi’s shoulder. 

She read the whole article, finishing just after Mapi did. The defender was looking up at her captain, distraught. 

“Fuck.” Alexia said. “Shit. Okay. We’ll go find Clau and Patri, and then we’ll call pequeña.” 

Alexia was always a voice of reason, and Mapi nodded gratefully, rising to her feet, throwing some cash on the table, and heading out of the restaurant. 

There was no longer any question of why her teammates had reacted the way they did. The contents of that article felt eerily similar. And if they were true, they had a lot to be worried about. 

-----

You’d finished your morning training session, pulling out your phone the minute you returned to your hotel room, and saw the article. First, though, you had to scroll through the messages upon messages from your teammates expressing their concern. You didn’t spend too long reading those, knowing it would likely be too much for you right now. 

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been; there were a lot of details omitted, some of the more worrying details. Still, it was more than the people in charge would want leaked to the media, especially when it painted them as the villains. 

In short, the article detailed, via anonymous interviews with some of your teammates, the conditions that your u23 national team was under. Your coach was vile, the training staff always following his lead. There were recovery specialists that many of you guys refused to work with. The personnel themselves were an issue. More than that, though, what they did was the biggest problem. The team hadn’t been performing very well, and as a consequence, you and your teammates were being worked half to death. Running until you dropped, scrimmaging until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. You were woken early in the morning for extra workouts, and kept up late to go over film. It was constant, exhausting, and completely demoralizing. The way you were spoken too was no better than what your body was being put through. Your coach had apparently decided that the right way to motivate the team was to rip everyone to shreds. He hurled cruel insults at you and your teammates. He didn’t just go after your playing abilities; he went after your fitness, your weight, your personal life, your personality, your appearance, your relationships within the team. There were no boundaries. There was no way to say no, no way to make it stop. 

You were determined to handle it. You didn’t know any different when it came to your national team. Granted, it had never been this bad before, not in all your time with the team. You wanted it handled internally. You saw what your Spanish teammates went through when they tried to make a change, and their suffering wasn’t something you were willing to bring upon yourself and your teammates. You guys were all young, under the age of 23. If your Spanish teammates that were full adults couldn’t do it without winning a world cup, what chance did a bunch of kids have? No one would listen, it would only make it worse. Although, somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were suffering far more than you would be if you refused your call up. You didn’t give up, and you didn't ask for help. You’d never had the ability to do so, always wanting to be independent. International breaks became something you dreaded deeply, and something you attended all the same. It was a stagnant, constant torture, constant weight on your shoulders. Nothing really seemed like it would cause a change. 

Until the article was published. 

You didn’t know who’d spoken to the journalist, but you didn’t fault them. Though you’d never admit it, you were secretly glad that someone had been braver than you. Still, the verbal lashing you and your teammates got later that day was borderline abusive. The following punishment was worse. Your coach led the team to the stadium, into the stands, and instructed you all to begin running the stadium steps, until he felt you’d “learned your lesson.” 

No one spoke up, no one argued. Everyone just set off with a resigned sigh. You all ran for a while. What must have been at least an hour, in the hot sun. Up and down and back up again. Until the world was spinning around you, and even though everyone asked for a water break, one was not given. You all kept going. 

You went until you dropped, literally. Until you missed a step, fell forward, and smashed your head on the seat next to you. The pain in your whole body ceased, briefly, before it erupted again in your head, and then everything went black. 

-----

At least you could leave early without seeming like a coward. No one could argue against the decision the team doctors had come to; you had a large gash on your forehead that needed stitches, a black eye, and a mild concussion. Your coach sneered at you, but dismissed you all the same, leaving you with a warning to remember to keep the team’s best interest in mind. You knew this meant that he expected you to remain silent, as you had been until this point. You planned to. What you didn’t necessarily plan for was your club teammates. You should have considered them, but you didn’t. That was your second mistake. The first was barely responding to anyone’s texts and calls after the article was published. You didn’t even tell anyone you were going home. Deciding the medical announcement from the team would be enough, you boarded your flight to Barcelona, completely ignoring the flood of messages you were receiving. 

You just wanted to go home. Lay in your bed where you were safe, and far from the people that seemed hell bent on making your life a living hell several weeks out of the year. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to see anyone. You ignored the multitude of texts from Pina, Patri, Mapi, Alexia, and Marta, asking you if you needed a ride home from the airport. You Ubered home from the airport instead, barely making it through your door before you tossed your bag aside and collapsed into your bed. 

In order to avoid a break in from your teammates, you pulled your phone out before you fell asleep, opening your text thread with Alexia. 

Nena, I saw the article. Call me.

Are you okay?

Please respond, nena, we’re really worried about you.

Jona called, I heard about your injury. Are you okay?

When are you coming home?

When does your flight land?

Nena, please. Just message something to let me know you got home okay. 

You sighed. You didn’t want to talk. Talking would only make it worse, you were sure. It hadn’t been that bad, not really. It was normal, a little harsh, but the team had been playing so poorly, what did you all expect? Rationalizing it was all you could do, really. 

Hola Capi. I’m okay, I’m home now. Everything is fine, really. Don’t worry. 

Alexia responded barely a minute after you’d hit send. 

Okay, nena. If you need to talk, we’re all around for you, okay? Please, please call me if you need me, for anything. We can talk more tomorrow when you come for your medical eval. It’s at 9am and Mapi and I have media stuff then, but Pina and Patri are going to pick you up. Rest a lot, I’ll see you tomorrow. 

Even though you were comfortably curled up in bed, incredibly sleep deprived, and concussed, you couldn’t fall asleep right away. You were rather busy trying to figure out how to act tomorrow. You felt so… weighed down from everything that had happened. You looked in the mirror barely recognizing yourself, and it had nothing to do with your injuries. You didn’t feel like you. You felt like the empty version of yourself that always returned from national duty, but 10x worse. You didn’t think you could smile if you tried. Convincing your teammates that you were okay was going to take a lot of energy that you simply didn’t have. You couldn’t do it, you were too exhausted, in the very core of your being. You fell into a fitful sleep, setting your alarm for the next morning even though it was only early evening and you hadn’t eaten anything. You weren’t sure how to act, or how to play this. All you knew was that letting anyone see how badly you were hurting was not an option. 

-----

Your car ride to the Barça training grounds was painfully quiet. Pina and Patri had given up all attempts at making conversation; you’d made it clear that you didn’t want to talk. Neither of them were sure what to make of you right now. Your voice was steady, your body language rigid. You had a pair of huge sunglasses on, though, and a hood tugged up over your head. Neither of them could get a good glimpse at your face, to check on your injuries, or to see how you were really feeling. They supposed this was the point. Their worry only grew when you caught Patri’s arm before heading to the medical center. Her and Pina were headed for the locker room, but they both stopped in their tracks, looking back at you. 

You wanted to thank them. Not just for picking you up, but for bringing you coffee and a granola bar, and the comforting way they both squeezed your hand when they saw you. 

“Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.” You said softly. You never spoke quietly; you were incapable of doing so, normally. Today, however, both girls had to lean in to hear what you were saying. 

“Of course.” Patri replied. Your eyes fell back to the floor underneath you, and you headed off without another word, leaving two very concerned teammates in your wake. 

Patri stopped Pina just before walking into the locker room, very suddenly pulling the younger girl into a tight hug and not letting go. 

“Patri. Why are you suffocating me?” Claudia asked after a minute. 

The midfielder didn’t let up. “She’s acting like you did. After the last international break. I really don’t like it.” She explained. 

Claudia pulled away, shaking her head. She didn’t like to think about that. “I’m fine, Patri. She’ll be fine too, yeah?” 

“Hope so.” Patri said, giving her best friend a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

-----

Alexia and Mapi knew it was just as bad as they were expecting when they saw the looks on their younger teammates' faces. They’d finished media up as fast as they could, practically running to the gym where Pina and Patri were working out. 

It only took a shake of Patri’s head for both girls to whirl around, and set off for the medical center. 

You finished your eval at around the same time. The team doctors hadn’t asked too many questions. Jona had been there when you arrived, and had asked if there was anything you’d like to talk to him about. You’d shook your head, and he’d sighed, but left the room. The doctors had received the report from your national team’s staff. They knew that you’d fallen, but that was it. Nothing that accounted for the deep exhaustion that was clear across your face, or the way you barely spoke to them. They told you the same things that your national team had, giving you a rough timeline of your return. Finally, they very obviously reminded you of the club psychologist, before telling you that you were free to go. 

You were planning on waiting around somewhere secluded until Pina and Patri were done with their workout, stopping briefly to fill your water up. Your sunglasses were back on, hood pulled back up, depriving you of your peripheral vision, not to mention your rather swollen shut eye. 

When you turned, you jumped slightly, finding Mapi and Alexia standing directly behind you, arms crossed over their chests like a pair of bodyguards. If this was their goal, they had arrived late. The damage to you was already done. You weren’t sure the scars would ever fade.

Alexia stepped closer to you slowly , as if you would startle and run away from her if she moved too fast, pulling your hood down, and reaching for your sunglasses very carefully. 

“Ay dios mio” She murmured, taking your sunglasses off your face and carefully inspecting your wounds. “How did this happen?” 

Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky and full of fear, and her eyes bore into your own, a dangerous glint to them. Mapi didn’t look any different, standing next to her captain and eyeing you very carefully. 

“Fell.” You said simply. Not completely collapsing into their arms and telling them everything was much harder than you anticipated, so you stuck to one word answers for now. 

“You fell? What, off a cliff?” Mapi asked, ignoring the elbow to the ribs she received from the blonde next to her. 

You only shrugged in response, causing both girls to exchange a look. 

“Amiga, did someone do this to you? You can tell us, I promise. We will keep you safe.” Alexia promised, words she’d been rehearsing all morning. 

“No one did anything to me, I just fell.” You reiterated, and it wasn’t technically a lie. You were getting annoyed, uncharacteristically so. You didn’t want to answer these questions, and even though it was completely unfair, you were angry at Alexia. Promising to protect you now did nothing. Nothing at all. It was too late for that. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel safe again. 

“I do not believe you. You are not clumsy, you do not fall.” Mapi cut in, her words wildly more aggressive than her tone. You didn’t respond, back to staring at your feet. “The article that came out,” 

“It’s an exaggeration. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong, everything is fine, and I just want to go home, okay?” You spit back, showing the most emotion you had all day. 

And though everything you’d said was clearly a lie, it was also clear you weren’t ready to talk. Mapi and Alexia had already decided to back off if you didn’t want to talk right now. It could wait until later, until you were somewhere you felt safe, and somewhere much more private than the hall outside Barcelona’s gym. This wasn’t the place. 

The older girls let you go with Patri and Pina, even though all of their instincts were telling them not to let you out of their sight. You were so jumpy, so obviously terrified, they couldn’t justify making you do something you didn’t want to right now.

Alexia watched you walk away with your teammates, startling slightly when she felt Mapi wrap her arms securely around the blonde. Mapi was holding tight to her best friend, and it was no secret as to why. Alexia hugged her back, just as tight. 

“She’s acting just like all the younger girls did after the Euros. It’s happening again, to her this time, and we can’t do anything to stop it.” Mapi mumbled. 

Alexia wanted to disagree, but she couldn’t. She wanted to promise Mapi that they’d fix it, but she wasn’t sure they had the power to. Watching someone you love suffer is always hard, and this was no different.  It seemed so out of their control, and it was excruciating to watch the effects of whatever happened at that national camp wreak havoc on you, and know they couldn’t stop it. 

------

The ride home was just as quiet as the ride there had been. This time, though, the girls didn’t let you go without speaking. The tension in the car had been different this time, and you knew one of them was planning to say something. You thought it would be Patri; she was one of the captains, she was older, you were closer with her. To your surprise, it was Pina that spoke up. 

Patri had just pulled into your driveway when Pina turned around, looking hesitantly at you. Maybe it was her clear anxiety that made you listen, really listen to what she had to say. 

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I can tell you aren’t okay. I just wanted to say that talking about it is way less painful than keeping it all inside. Everyone wants to help you, and I know you might feel embarrassed, or like you can handle it yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re all here for you, whether you want to talk, or you just need some company. Okay?” 

You could tell it had taken a lot for Pina to say all that. She didn’t talk about her experience, ever, unless it was to Mapi or Patri, and even then, she preferred to pretend it hadn’t happened. She was putting that aside for you, though, and you couldn’t ignore the significance of that. 

“Thanks Clau. Really, thank you.” You said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, before stepping out of the car. It was all you could manage right now, but you hoped it got your point across. 

It did. And even though tears welled in Claudia’s eyes on the way home, and she clung to Patri’s hand rather tightly, she was glad she’d spoken up. It was what she’d needed to hear all those months ago, and she hoped that it would make things easier for you. 

-----

You were curled up on the floor near your couch when you made the decision. Tremors were wracking your whole body, and you had been crying for so long that your chest hurt. It seemed that everything had caught up with you, but the breaking point had been the message from your national team coach, reminding you, again, to think of the team, and to stay out of the public eye until your visible injuries healed. There was no please, no thank you. It was just assumed that you’d do it. That really got you; that you’d been pliant for them for so long that they didn’t doubt that you’d go along with whatever they told you to. 

You just felt so alone, and so scared. So incredibly scared. It was this fear that had you reaching for your phone. You couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t keep it all in. You couldn’t tell another lie, and you didn’t want to. You just wanted someone to come and tell you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted someone to protect you, in the way you should have been protected this whole time. 

There were people that you trusted to do this for you, and you’d lost all the strength to deny yourself the comfort and the care you ached for. 

The phone had barely rung once before it was picked up. 

“Nena? Are you okay?” Alexia asked softly. 

“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a sob. 

“Oh, cariño. What can I do?” 

“Come over, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.” You gasped out, wiping harshly at the tears streaming down your face. 

“I am on my way, pequeña, okay? Just sit tight, Mapi and I will be there in a few minutes.” 

“Okay,” you said miserably. You hung up the phone, curling up against the side of the couch once again, muffling your cries in the cushions next to you. It felt like you might never stop crying. 

-----

The sight that Alexia and Mapi were met with when they walked through your front door wasn’t one they ever wanted to see again. 

You were curled in on yourself on the floor, gasping and clawing at your chest as you cried, looking so panicked, and so terrified, neither of them were very confident that they’d be able to help you. Alexia was at your side in an instant, physically pushing your coffee table out of the way so she could crouch down next to you, and pull you into her arms. 

“Okay, okay. It’s alright. You are safe, nena, I promise you.” She murmured, allowing you to hide your face in her neck. You were still trembling, still sobbing, when Mapi sat down next to the two of you, looking helplessly at her captain. 

You couldn’t speak, even though you kind of wanted to. You were so overwhelmed and so exhausted, the only thing keeping you from really dissolving into an irreversible state of panic being Alexia’s arms around you, and her and Mapi’s voices in your ear. 

They promised, over and over, that you’d be safe, that they’d keep you safe. You supposed the only way they’d be able to do this was if you told them everything. And even though it terrified you to do so, the thought of going back to camp next break like nothing had happened was paralyzing. 

You had to trust Alexia and Mapi. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep going if you didn’t trust them, if you didn’t let them in. You resolved to talk, to be honest, as soon as you were able. As soon as you stopped crying. You weren’t sure when that would be, honestly, because it didn’t seem like you were calming down at all. For now, you gripped Mapi’s hand, focused on the feeling of Alexia’s hand on your back, and willed yourself to be calm. They had you. They’d keep you safe. 

----- 

[aventurineswife]

So, reader decided to play mouthwashing due to its positive reviews and how it became popular enough to gain fandom. Maybe Ratio, Aventurine, Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, Jing Yuan and Jade decided to watch reader as they play? How would they react to this game's plot, it's characters and opinions?

HSR Characters Reaction On Mouthwashing

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Blade X Reader, Psychological Horror(not the actual fic but the game), Character Study, Game Reactions, Manipulation, Redemption, Survival, Dark Themes, Self-Destruction, Fractured Minds, Immortality.

Warnings: Strong Language, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Mental Health Issues, Psychological and Emotional Distress, Dark Themes of Suffering and Redemption, Self-Harm (Implied, Related to Destruction and Pain), Death and Death Imagery.

A/N: I haven't fully watched the whole gameplay, so this might a bit ooc but I do know some basics of what happened and all I gotta say is: I hate Jimbo‼️🧍‍♀️ also shortened this to three characters because tags won't take the others and I probably would've to write each characters individually for their reactions on each characters so sorry if this disappoints you :')

Kafka lounged gracefully on a velvet chair, her fingers tracing the rim of a crystal goblet filled with a dark, undisturbed liquid. The soft glow of the screen reflected off her red wine-colored hair as she observed the game unfolding before her. Mouthwashing, a psychological horror game that had garnered significant attention, was the latest entertainment distraction.

The game's plot piqued her interest immediately—stranded in space with dwindling supplies, a mutilated captain, and a fractured crew. Kafka found the dynamics between the characters fascinating. The tension, the fractured relationships, and the slow unraveling of sanity… it was like watching a perfectly woven web fall apart. She couldn’t help but admire how the developers had manipulated the player into becoming complicit in the escalating violence.

Her eyes narrowed at the unraveling storylines. "So, it’s a game of power and survival," she mused, sipping from her glass. "But with a touch of madness, I wonder if the creators intended to turn the player into the true villain. The emotions on display—guilt, betrayal, desperation—can only lead to one outcome: unraveling."

Kafka's attention shifted to the player’s choices. The tension between the crew members, the twisted relationships, and the manipulation—it felt familiar. She was a master of persuasion, a manipulator of emotions, but this game was something different. It made her wonder how the player would handle the sense of culpability for the crew’s inevitable downfall.

"I suppose," she mused, "this is what makes games like this addictive—the slow collapse, the control one has over others... It’s almost poetic, in a sense." She couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen as the final moments played out. Jimmy’s tragic end, believing he had redeemed himself by placing Curly in the cryopod, was something Kafka could relate to—a misguided belief in redemption after irreversible actions.

Turning her attention back to her glass, she smiled softly. "I would have handled it differently, of course. But I suppose that’s the beauty of these games—they allow us to explore paths we’d never dare take in reality."

Silver Wolf sat cross-legged on a low sofa, her sharp gaze fixed on the screen as the game's opening scene began. Her fingers twitched in a restless, almost instinctive motion—an impulse to hack, to break the system and rewrite the story as she often did. But she forced herself to focus, her curiosity about the game's mechanics outweighing her usual inclination to manipulate.

The dark and gritty atmosphere of Mouthwashing quickly drew her in. The world-building was minimal, but what Silver Wolf found compelling was how the game subtly forced players into moral corners with each choice. The crew’s personalities were rich with flaws, and the tension between them was palpable. Her fingers flexed, itching to dive deeper into the psychological undercurrents, analyzing each interaction like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"Not bad," Silver Wolf muttered, studying the way the plot twisted and turned with each new revelation. The complexity of the relationships, particularly Jimmy's unraveling sanity, fascinated her. "It’s like hacking a system, but instead of codes, it’s the characters' minds. The more you understand them, the more control you have over the outcome."

She watched intently as the player made choices, her eyes narrowing when the characters’ fates grew darker. “Hmph, some people just can't handle the game. They don’t see the bigger picture. It’s all about the challenge, about beating the odds. It’s not just survival—it’s about making it through with your mind intact. The chaos is part of the fun.”

Silver Wolf tilted her head as she saw Jimmy make his fatal choices, his mental state breaking down under the weight of guilt and fear. "That's one way to go out," she muttered. "Pathetic, really. I would’ve used that moment to break free, to rewrite the whole scenario. But I suppose that's why it's not me playing."

She smirked, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Still, I can appreciate the game's challenge. It's not about winning, it's about seeing just how far you can push the boundaries before it all collapses. Just like the game of life." Her fingers idly tapped against her knee. "Maybe I’ll try a new strategy next time."

Blade stood motionless in the shadows, his piercing eyes fixed on the screen as Mouthwashing unfolded before him. The plot resonated in ways that few things did—survival at any cost, fractured relationships, and a constant drive toward self-destruction. His cracked sword, an eternal symbol of his fractured existence, almost felt lighter as he watched the characters’ struggles.

The captain, Curly, with his tragic fate, reminded Blade of his own cursed immortality. Mutilated, unable to speak or act, yet still alive—trapped in a state of perpetual suffering. Blade’s gaze lingered on the screen, his mind replaying his own endless cycle of death and rebirth. He saw in Curly a reflection of his own fate: an unending existence that could only end in violence and ruin.

"What a pitiful display," Blade muttered, his voice low and cold. "Surviving only to slowly lose everything—your sanity, your humanity… That’s what this game is, isn’t it? A slow descent into madness, with no way out."

He watched as the crew's relationships deteriorated, one by one. Jimmy’s spiral into madness, his attempts at redemption, and the eventual tragic end... it all felt too familiar to Blade. "How weak," he whispered, his fingers twitching at his side. "No honor, no purpose. Just mindless survival."

Yet, there was something in Jimmy's desperate final act that resonated with Blade. The desire to find release, to end it all after causing so much destruction. It was the same goal Blade had sought for so long: an end to the suffering, an escape from the endless pain of immortality.

As the game neared its conclusion, Blade’s eyes narrowed. "They think they can redeem themselves," he mused. "But redemption is a lie. There is only the inevitable conclusion—endless destruction." His hand brushed the hilt of his broken sword. "This is the true path. There is no escaping it."

The game ended, and Blade remained silent, his expression unreadable. "A fitting end," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But not my end."

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

How do you think the dorm leaders would react to an rsa student leading/kidnapping the prefect to take them away from the 'villains', and when tracked down to a ledge and arguing with saud dorm leaders, the prefect defends them before getting accidentally pushed off? Just the look of horror on their face before they fall, reaching out for them? Ala gwen in spiderman

(I'm not going to do every dorm leader bc I normally have a cap of 5 characters per ask so if the leader you'd like to see isn't here, please feel free to send in another request

these are also all super long so they're under a cut)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul had been thinking since the moment you’d been taken. He figured it must be someone with a personal grudge against him, rolling his eyes at the platitude that you would be safer with them than him. The twins are even considering less annoying while he’s plotting out what to do, trying to find a way that wouldn’t leave him vulnerable to another strike while also procuring you from your kidnappers. The fact they even agreed to a meeting proved to Azul that they were a devious soul, hidden behind a mist of chivalry when their wants were just as selfish as anyone at NRC. He comes into the conversation thinking he has everything under control, not in the least bit surprised when it turns into a real fight; his magic is at the ready, hand raised and prepared to do what he must to end this when you move outside of his predictions. He would have to viciously scold you for this later but he’s too worried to think about the angry rant he’ll go on for not just trusting in him to be ready no matter what. When you’re tumbling to the ground, he squeezed the handle of the broom he had brought with him, hating the concept of being in the air but feeling even more sick about all his hard work being for nothing (meaning: he would be heartbroken and would not know what to do with himself should you end up perishing on him here). It’s a little washy, but the carefully thought out Plan B ended with you scooped in his arms, his flying wobbly at best but once there’s a safe place to land you feel much safer with him around. When you ask what might happen to the RSA student Azul simply smiled, telling you not to worry about it as Jade and Floyd wouldn’t leave behind a single trace of what occurred that night.

Idia Shroud:

Idia is fighting a storm of emotions, doing his best to not to lose his cool in such a fragile situation. He had to observe the options before him carefully, hoping his perception skill was high enough to afford him a break. It felt like having someone ripped away from him again, the past repeating before his very eyes, and while he knew the stakes were much less serious than the previous situation he’d gone through, it still set his anxiety through the roof. He considered begging you to just stay in your room like he did so he wouldn’t have to worry about you putting yourself in danger (his thoughts darting away from the concept of you just living in a room with him). Idia isn’t used to sticking his neck out for someone else but he knew you, and he knew defending him if the moment called for it would come to you as easy as breathing. He had Ortho prepared for any QTE’s that might be outside of Idia’s control, thankful that the second controller was plugged in before he arrived as you did exactly as he predicted. He can see the fear on your face and while he does want to call out to you to let you know you’ll be safe, it would be better to keep the enemy unaware of the surprise attack awaiting once Ortho got you to safety. With you out of the way Idia felt much more at ease, the sharp grin on his face appearing almost manic to his enemy, who found themselves wondering if they should follow you off the ledge.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona was doing his best to keep a poker face on. When it came to others thinking they were better than him, he was no stranger, but to know they had taken away someone he loved—he was prepared to show them what a real villain looked like. He navigated the situation carefully, this was just a risky game of chess in his eyes but he didn’t realize quite how risky it was until your life was dangling right before his eyes. He’s not unaware of how something can change in the blink of an eye, the scale could tip in either direction but he had to be prepared. He’s always been quick on his feet and there’s nothing in this world that he’d put more effort into than assuring your safety, even pushing himself to the brink of his magical abilities when he cushions the dramatic fall that easily could’ve stolen your life. The person preaching to him from above has only cemented his view that those who soar so high above don’t consider their own actions as evil, always for the ‘greater good’ which meant you were better off dead than with a ‘villain’ like him. He can’t help but scoff, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them as there’s an unspoken promise hanging in the air: he would kill them without hesitation if they were to ever touch a hair on your head again.

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus was shocked at first, secretly hurt, that people on the outside could look in at your relationship with him and consider him a danger to you. He was careful around you, always protective and caring and wanting what’s best for you, so how could that be misconstrued? It made his blood boil to think about your kidnapper trying to turn you against him, and he felt even more powerless when your life was in someone else’s hand so he had to act with caution. He approached with an air of calm that was betrayed by his eyes, the smile not quite reaching them as he greeted your captor politely. He didn’t think he could lead them into a false sense of security because everyone knew to be on guard against him, but he’s surprised the coward even showed their face again. He’s even more surprised to see you attempt to sacrifice yourself for him, reaching out for you and feeling helpless again as you slip right through his fingers; he refused to lose, his hands moving quicker than his brain was as he cast a last ditch effort spell to stop your fragile human body from becoming a stain on the ground. He’s relieved to see that his quick thinking had resulted in saving your life, the vines wrapped around your arms and legs like a comforting hug. He’s thankful he learned how to use the spell without including thorns, but his thoughts are now elsewhere, turning to look at his enemy with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. He tells them they should feel quite lucky that you’re in one piece, as if you had died, Malleus would have tormented their family for generations to come, if he allowed them to exist after this at all.

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is trying to keep his cool, as Trey advised it was best he do so, but it was hard not to feel anger for the complete disrespect that was being shown. How could they think taking you away from your education would be the best route? From a place that you were thriving? If they thought he was doing a poor job as a dorm leader helping you, than they could’ve offered the criticism personally rather than causing you to break a hundred rules within the span of a day. He has to stop himself from raising his voice or going on a rant when he sees how frightened you are, feeling baffled again that this RSA student considered themself some sort of savior when they weren’t taking you into consideration at all. Even he had to learn a lesson or two in regards to it, and he considers it his turn to teach that lesson, challenging them to a duel that would decide where you would end up. Riddle, trusting in his opponents intent to have an honest duel, turned his back to get in place but is shocked to hear the other person winding their spell up already. Your interference is the only reason he’s in one piece but it was at the sacrifice of your own well-being; Riddle cried out your name, nearly panicking as he missed your hand by milliseconds. He can hear the chanting in his head, the word ‘failure’ stamped with bolded red letters, and he nearly lost himself in grief until he sees that Trey and Cater had tailed him. Now that he knew you were safe his face began to grow red, his complete rage turned on the RSA student who would learn the true definition of ‘off with your head’!

[dioslesbianwife]

Can I the Jojo's with the partner who has the meduca stand

Like I'm she started as a Villainess and they on find out she was a nun who was assaulted and is just angry at the world especially men for hurting her in the house of god and them getting to have her trust.

I see the Jojo's being her stepping stone the trust people again and they whoud protect her .

And one day they acedently look the stand in its eyes but are unharmed and find out it's because she trusts them and after that they started dating.

Imagine Giorno making little sandwiches for the meduca stand her snake hair 🥹

(I love meduca and she didn't deserve to be called the villainess🐍)

totally, thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy! <33

Your Stand, “Medusa,” manifests as an ethereal, snake-haired angel with eyes that can petrify- but only if you don’t trust the person looking at you. It’s a cursed power born from betrayal in a holy place. You were once a nun. And after enduring horrors in silence, you became a villain... until they reached you.

Jonathan Joestar

His gentle honesty is what first earns your trust. He listens- really listens.

He sees Medusa and doesn’t flinch. When he meets her gaze and nothing happens, he weeps.

Holds you like something sacred and vows to show you a world worth forgiving.

Joseph Joestar

“Okay, so your stand has murder snakes for hair. Still prettier than Lisa Lisa’s temper.”

He's the first to make you laugh. The first to tell you you’re still human.

Shocked when Medusa doesn’t react to his gaze. He instantly grows quiet and kisses your hand.

Jotaro Kujo

Takes your past seriously. Never pities you, but protects you.

Barely says anything, just stands by your side like a wall.

When your Stand doesn’t hurt him, he looks into your eyes and says, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Josuke Higashikita

Genuinely afraid of Medusa at first- until he sees her wrapping around you protectively.

You cry when he brings you a handmade snake plush. “She doesn’t look scary to me.”

You begin to feel like a girl again, not a weapon.

Giorno Giovanna

He understands vengeance. But he also believes in rebirth.

Makes tiny gold snakes from his Stand and teaches Medusa how to play with them.

When you fall asleep in his arms, Medusa watches over him too.

Jolyne Cujoh

You told her your story, expecting disgust. She took your hand instead.

Medusa doesn’t activate with her because Jolyne never hides her heart.

You love her fierce loyalty and she loves how you sing when you’re relaxed.

Johnny Joestar

Finds quiet companionship in you. Neither of you are “healed” yet, but you begin to walk that path together.

He’s the first to cry when Medusa lets him look into her eyes. “You... trust me?”

You and your Stand both fall for him that day.

Josuke Higashikita (Gappy)

“You’re not scary. You’re sad.” That was the first thing he ever said to you.

You slowly fall in love with how he understands fear, because he’s lived in it too.

When he kisses your forehead, the snakes lower their heads like a blessing.