#how he keeps getting villains to go to his side or die (no in between)

[awkwardgamer1999]

Honesty time 😳 the bar is in hell for season 2 I knew not to have any expectations but I just I’m not fucking with it and it’s only eight episodes. I was hoping rhaenicent would die but unfortunately you weirdos are getting fed 🥴 and I hope this “love” that Alicent apparently has for rhaenyra I hope it’s one sided after everything that’s happened to still believe there is love or friendship between them is a fucking joke. Speaking from rhaenyras pov “you have one son sitting on my throne and your other son just murdered my child but sure let’s be besties” bffr you guys. And to have rhaenyra question daemons loyalty. DAEMON out of all people. When one of his redeeming qualities is the love and support he has for his family. I need some new writers in that room asap. They have made it pretty clear they want to villainize daemon in anyway they can I knew there was going to be angst between him and rhaenyra but to ask the person that literally crowned you is crazy. It’s basically been confirmed this show is a whole new story and it’s really weird to me that GRRM is allowing for all these changes and letting these characters be butchered I thought him stepping in for the writing in season 2 he would go back to the actual story that HE wrote but oh well. That promo with Olivia Cooke and Emma D’arcy makes you forget this is a war between rhaenyra and Aegon which is really annoying. You can’t expect people to understand this is a tragic story about the fall of a house due to misogyny when you have two women fighting against each other but hey that’s just my opinion. I feel Emma will act their ass off and just make me completely emotionally unstable. Can we talk about how much of a pretty boi Jace looks I see why people keep calling him !book Jon snow

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Thinking about how Calder went to extreme lengths to transform himself into a dragon (made armor based on it, tattood his literal entire body, kidnapped people just to have Hiccup and Toothless be his missing fire and wings) while Hiccup is seen as Other throughout the franchise without even trying.

[mawofthemagnetar]

No Mister Slab, I Expect You(r Keyboard) To Die!

Inspired by THIS tumblr post!

Etho woke up staring at his lap.

He blinked a few times, and lifted his head. Something was bound tight around his wrists, and the chair he’d been tied to was kind of painful.

He blinked, uncomprehending, as he stared into the massive eyes and smug smile of Keralis.

Etho opened his mouth.

And closed it.

Keralis was sitting in a high-backed spiky-looking chair, like something out of a movie. And of course, he was wearing a white suit with a blue flower for a corsage. For some reason, Jellie was sprawled contentedly across his lap. As if that wasn’t enough, behind him, a wall of lava was flowing down. Etho looked around the rest of the (modern and tasteful, natch) room, to see it dominated by suits of armour and other lovely decorations.  

Keralis’ massive desk sat between them, with a shiny new gaming PC and all the trimmings off to the side. Keralis gently stroked Jellie, and locked eyes with Etho.

“Ah, Etho! You’re awake!” he said brightly, and his left eye twitched.

“…Keralis? You okay, buddy? Something wrong?”

Etho would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous.

“Hm? No, no, no. I’m fine. I’m very, very fine.” Keralis leaned in, grinning nastily.

“So…uh…why am I tied to a chair?” Etho asked, tilting his head, “’Cause, like, I was kind of sending some e-mails to Pause when Doc dropped that bag over my head, and-“

Keralis’ eye twitched.

“I suppose we don’t waste time, then. Etho!” Keralis said grandly, steepling his fingers together on the desk, “I am replacing your entire setup.”

Etho froze.

“NO-!“

“OH, YES!” Keralis cackled, “YES, ETHO, YES! A NEW KEYBOARD! A NEW MOUSE! NEW MONITORS! A NEW MIC STAND!”

“…Actually, can I keep my old monitor, I only had, like, the one-“

Keralis’ eye twitched.

“You get two monitors now,” he said grandly, scratching Jellie behind the ears. She hissed and hopped off Keralis’ lap, wandering away.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Etho shouted, “I- man, I have like, emotional attachment to-“

Keralis twitched again.

He pressed a button on his desk.

A massive flying machine flew up at the top of the lava wall, Etho momentarily spellbound by the build that had Doc’s thumbprints all over it. And speaking of Doc, the man himself was standing at the top of the lava wall on a catwalk, wearing a black suit and an evil smile.

The flames danced in his eye as he placed down a shulkerbox containing…something.

“What…what are you going to do?” Etho asked nervously, “What do you want from me?”

“You? Nothing!” Keralis laughed, “your setup, though, sweetface…”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM MY SETUP!”

“DOC!” Keralis called, snapping his fingers, “BURN IT!”

And Doc threw the shulker into the lava.

Etho gasped as it broke, as his broken keyboard, his sticky mouse, and his monitor with a flickery line going through the middle of it all fell into the flames. His tissue box, though-

Etho shed a tear as the empty Kleenex box hit the lava and instantly burst into flames.

“You’re a monster!” he sniffled.

Both Keralis and Doc burst out laughing. Grand, evil cackles, that eventually petered out.

“Why? Why would you do this to me!?” Etho protested.

Keralis scowled, clicked a few things on his own terminal, and spun the monitor around to see.

“THIS IS WHY.” He shouted.

Etho’s eyes fell on an email he’d sent out to all of the Hermits the previous week.

“I fail to see how that’s a problem. Or worthy of being on your Bond Villain arc.” Etho huffed.

“ETHO. THERE ARE NO SPACES BETWEEN ANY OF THE WORDS!” Keralis shouted.  

[ghouly-boiiiii]

Does Max give anyone else major twist villain vibes???

Okay I haven't talked about Max much yet, but I think it's kinda wild to see people talking about him like he's just this sweet innocent cinnamon roll when my read on his character was the COMPLETE opposite.

I mean yes, he does seem very sweet. He's very soft spoken. Naive in a way like Lucy, but not as much. Kinda vulnerable. Got a killer smile. And some of the moments with him and Lucy are super cute and adorable. But damn if he doesn't have a DARK side!

Like I've heard people say that Max is stupid or that Aaron Moten's acting is bad, but hell no. Aaron Moten sold me on his acting during the interrogation scene. Max was scared shitless and I FELT that. I think Max was meant to be played as a character who lacks understanding about certain things and seems disconnected from people due to both being brought up in basically a cult and having an inherent lack of empathy.

You think about the fact that he admitted he wanted Dane to get hurt, someone who's supposed to be his best friend. How he coldly sat there and watched Titus die. And before that stood there and watched him get mauled by a bear, almost like he was fascinated by it and wanted to see what was gonna happen. The fact that he tried to kill Thaddeus the moment he became a threat, even though the two of them had appeared to have bonded and developed a genuine friendship. And let's not forget he was willing to let all of Vault 4 get plunged into darkness just so he could keep playing with his power armor.

Max wants to be a knight, he wants to be a hero. And I think he tells himself he wants it for the right reasons, but I think what he REALLY wants is power and recognition. Which is really what every (okay maybe not every, but a lot) good villain wants, right? Because at the end of the day Max wants what Max wants. He's selfish, even though he doesn't think he is.

And sure, he's nice to Lucy. And he went balls to the wall to save her when he thought Vault 4 was gonna execute her. But she's a pretty girl who helped him and offered him a safe home. When she gave him the proposition that if she helped him bring back the head, he would have the Brotherhood lend her some knights to save her dad, he KNEW he couldn't make that promise. But he made the deal anyway. So he doesn't REALLY care about her or what she wants.

And that blank stare he gets when he gets mad? ACTUALLY terrifying. The guy's got serious psychopath vibes. Literal anti-social personality disorder, if you ask me. In fact the first thing I thought about when Max let Titus die is this kids going to end up going to the dark side lol.

And I think that would work really well thematically if they plan on giving The Ghoul a redemption arc beside it. There are so many parallels between Lucy and The Ghoul, and they have such a strong connection to the beginning when the bombs dropped. I get that Max is there to represent the Brotherhood and he's from Shady Sands, the town Hank destroyed, but it felt weird that he didn't seem to be AS important in the grand scheme of things compared to Cooper and Lucy.

But if Max turned out to be a badass twist villain to thematically contrast Cooper's redemption arc, while Lucy remains steadfast to her commitment to goodness and the golden rule I feel like that would really round it out. It would make sense if you consider a lot of people have pointed out that Lucy, Cooper and Max all seem to represent different play styles and different moral alignments. And I think it'd be pretty crazy if the writers of the show set out to make it seem like Ghoul is a bad guy and Max is a good guy, but then it ended up being the opposite.

I mean, there are definitely hints all over the show that The Ghoul isn't as bad as he may seem. And Max has already done some pretty messed up stuff, so I'd say the possibility is totally there, and I'd be here for it!

Who's with me???

[kayesfanfics]

Can I request morphs reaction to their s/o getting really wounded in battle?

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood

Oh they’d drop everything, including their cocky and fun behavior, when they saw how hurt you got. Usually they’ll exchange banter with the villains, but when they see you got knocked out, they’ll quickly fight off villains and rush over to protect you and see if you were okay

When they saw how much blood there was around and on you, they felt panic sink into his gut as they yelled for help. They looked at your wounds and attempted to stop the bleeding, but more kept gushing out between their fingers as their panic and fear rose into their chest, their heart beating rapidly as they watched the life literally drain out of you. They wouldn’t even realize when help arrived, they’d be so focused on you that they’d be sort of in a daze and everything would be a blur as the team got you into the Blackbird and rushed you to the Mansion so Beast could operate on you

They’re the type to sleep in a chair next to your bedside rather than sleeping in their own room, they don’t want to leave your side for even a minute while you’re hurt like this. Logan will bring them food and ask how you’re doing, and try to make small talk to try and take Morph’s mind off of you even for a minute. But their eyes would gaze at your sleeping face, waiting for your eyes to open

As soon as you eventually woke up, they’d jump to their feet and yell for Hank, grabbing your hand and studying your face for discomfort or pain. When you saw them and smiled, they’d immediately feel relief wash over them seeing you okay and conscious. After Hank checked you over and filled you in, he let you two have time alone

“Thank god, I was so worried! You were bleeding out so bad, I thought you were gonna die! How do you feel? You want some water? Food? I can get you whatever you want, or, at least make Logan go get you whatever you want cause I don’t want to leave you. Are you comfortable? Do you want a different blanket? These ones are so scratchy. Are you-“

“Kevin! I’m okay, babe!…..actually, get me some ice water?”

“On it!”

They are SO attentive during your recovery. They stick with you when there’s not a mission they need to be on, keeping you entertained while bedridden and making sure your every need is met. They help you to the bathroom when you need it, they bring you every meal and eat with you, and you love them yes, but you’ve had to kick him out of your small hospital bed to sleep comfortably and they’ll walk away to go upstairs to their own bed like a sad puppy with its tail between its legs-

When you’re cleared to leave the medical bay and start working up your strength again, Morph is there every step of the way. They’ll spot you to make sure you don’t drop equipment on yourself or fall and hurt yourself again. They can be a tad overbearing sometimes, but they’re just so worried about you after seeing you so close to death, they just want to make sure you’re safe and healthy afterwards. So they’ll help you rebuild your strength and they are very overprotective on the battlefield but you find it sweet

[hostdoozy]

The horrifying implications of Meat Sweats powers.

Rupert (mainly known as meat sweats) is possibly one of my favourite side-villains within Rottmnt as of this moment. Down his writing and animation, the Gordon Ramsey parody is an absolute delight to watch.

Something about his mannerisms is beyond fascinating to me. He's a double threat, both cunning and robust. I could go on about for hours about this overgrown porky pig characteristic and how he is so much more than the very thing he is parodying.

But I'll spare you that mercy and focus on ONE aspect of his character.

His mutant powers. (read more down below)

In 'Nothing but Truffle' we get a lot of insight into how his abilities function. Using the strange tendrils that make up his arm and hands, he can latch onto his prey and suck out their 'essences'. Temporarily possessing his victim's powers while his victim is either immobilized or die after the process (implied). The key word here is "Temporarily" During the episode, after Mikey is betrayed by the British Meatbag we get this little exchange between the two.

"B-but- i thought you were nice now?" "Oh. that wore off hours ago...and by the way, you play lousy mandoline" This shows us, that once he absorbs his victim's powers- throughout the course of an entire day- they only last for a short period. This shows us, that his mutant form can quickly burn off "essences". why is this horrifying? I'll get into it soon enough, sit tightly. Let's us examine what exactly he IS absorbing.

We see that whenever Rupert is absorbing something- it is always GREEN and you what else is green? Empyrean. the source of yokai power, the ingredient used to create mutants. His mutant form requires Empyrean. What do I mean by "require"? well then. We established that Rupert can quickly burn off Empyrean after absorbing it. now i'd like to point out something to you. Notice how Rupert is often described as "cannibalistic" or "vampiric" by other characters, merch and even concept artwork. Notice how often he hunts, he jumps at any opportunity to catch any prey. See how within the show, there are many instances of him having cages upon cages of mutant/yokai saved for special occasions. Almost like, he NEEDS a constant onslaught of Empyrean not because he enjoys the power that comes with it but rather, out of necessity. It is VERY possible that his Mutant form needs it to survive. Normal food won't simply cut it, He hungers for yokai and mutants alike.

So is that it? seems pretty simple enough, right? AHAHAHAHAHA NO MY DEAR READER, WE ARE NOT DONE YET! you are stuck here with me. I had a shocking revelation, one that seemed rather far-fetch but please bear with me.

Rupert has minimal control of his powers.

When the metal gauntlets come off, Rupert cannot control what his tendrils can absorb. An example of this is featured is once again, in "Nothing but Truffle". The second Mikey pulled Rupert's arm to the weretree, the tendrils began draining it upon contact- against Rupert's will. He can't stop it. This is just one of the many instances of it. We know that Rupert can form "claws" with his tendrils based on this one Ep but this is the only time it happens. Usually, they are untangled instead of interconnected

While this could just be an animation inconsistency- please just. indulge me for a moment. Rupert is known as most dangerous mutant according to Tmnt and there's good reason for this. Despite Ruperts disadvantages, he is capable of working AROUND them. He is dangerous not because of his mutant abilities but for his intelligence. we the viewer don't suspect it because He is capable of making split-second decisions within a fight. Rupert is competent in many others ways that we overlook and mislead into thinking he's in full control of his powers. (Idk if he's autistic but he'd be a master at masking lol)

So NOW why is this horrifying?

Keep in mind. Rupert was a human- a shitty one but still human regardless. His mutation wasn't by choice. His cannibalism wasn't a choice. Imagine, you are at the height of your career and in the middle of your show- in front of an entire audience- you suddenly feel a pinch. everything is painful. Your body contorts into a horrific pigish amalgamation in a matter of minutes. The world has its eyes on you. people are watching. All you see is RED.

You've become a monster.

Once the red is gone. All that is left is the hunger. You are reduced to nothing more than a creature lurking within the shadows. A wall is put between you and the remaining semblance of your old life. Everything you work for, Gone. Left to rot away.

No matter how many scraps you pull out of NYC's trash piles. You are still hungry. This disgusting form of yours demands more. The only thing you can do to survive. is give in. indulge. you didn't just become a monster. you ARE the monster.

Whether or not Rupert was deserving of this faith is up in the air. We know that he's always been an Asshole. (both Mikey and himself go on to confirm this)

This isn't meant to suddenly paint Rupert in a sympathetic light nor be an attempt to "redeem" his actions. Far from it. This is meant to further insight into him as a villain and why he acts the way he does. Rupert still values his humanity. Rupert resorts to extreme measures to ensure his own comfortability and his legacy (i.e his restaurant) but thats a topic for another day.

To finally conclude this tangent. While Rupert is scummy sod, the situation he's forced into is unsettling when you sit down and think about it. If anything. he might have become a bigger asshole due to his mutation. (now excuse me- im going step inside this man's food truck and kiss him)

[any-mouse]

Ra’s Al-Ghul Is Why We Batclan Can’t have Nice Relationships Things.

Ok, so. I am not someone who knows a lot about the DC fandom, but fics and the DCxDP crowd (who are why I’m here) have given me information and research binges have given me more. And here’s a take I haven’t seen about Jason’s death, and why Batman not killing Joker made things dangerous for Robins. Or did it?

Batman could not win. If Ra’s decided the only thing that would get his chosen heir, or at least son-in-law, into killing would be to kill Robin, it’s time to send his assassins in. Batman keeping to the “no-killing” rule is the only thing keeping a bunch of kids and teens from facing down, not the gangs and henchmen of Gotham, but a literal death cult.

Which is one thing that makes me wonder if that’s hadn’t been Ra’s’ plan, only manipulating the Joker into doing it for him. Which casts Batman undoing Nightwing’s killing of Joker in a very different light.

But there are other things that go along with that. And why Ra’s is a bit, fixated, on poor Tim. With how wrathful and brutal Batman became after, everything, it was only a matter of time before someone died. And then all Ra’s has to do is, wait. Drop hints or little reminders of the League, maybe have Talia swing by a few times. Allow the previous rapport to rebuild itself. In the meantime, build up Jason’s rage, anger, betrayal, and then unleash him on Gotham. Watch as the two brutal titans clashed, until Batman kills Red Hood. It would utterly destroy Bruce to have been the one to kill Jason a second time.

But, ah, there is a chance to fix this. The Lazarus Pit. Bruce will do anything to undo this fatal mistake, wrought at his hands and driven by his wrath. And in his grief stricken desperation, as he looks back on his rampage with despair, at all of the people he maimed, crippled, and killed in his agony, in steps Ra’s. Don’t worry, Ra’s has been collecting them. Fixing them. He does not agree with Bruce’s decision to leave, he still does not support Batman’s policies. But he knew it was important to Bruce so he took steps to ensure that no irreparable damage was done. Slowly, carefully, drawing a grateful Batman back into the fold. Wearing away at morals already cracked by grief and rage, using soft words where harshness has failed. Reviving Jason once again, keeping the two of them orbiting each other like binary stars, unable to leave, but always wanting to stay.

And it’s all foiled by one rich brat who’s stealthier than he has any right to be. Tim knows that Batman is going off the rails of sanity at an ever quickening pace. If he’s close enough for good pictures, he’s close enough for first aid and responder calls. So there is A Lot of damage and wreckage left in Batman’s wake, but nothing that isn’t salvageable. Ra’s won’t have a cadre of former henchmen and goons brainwashed into serving as Gotham’s foot soldiers but that would have been secondary. But Tim does more than that. Tim throws himself between Gotham and Batman because no one else will. Tim is a highly intelligent and self-sufficient child. His self-worth is in the toilet, thank you very much Drake bio-donors.

So Tim out-stubborns Batman and glues himself to his side and pulls him back. He cuts off the roaring rampage of revenge. Batman starts healing and Ra’s just can’t have that, oh no. But this is an easy enough fix, and it’s even better than the first plan. After all, loosing the last Robin to a violent villain led them to this point. How much worse would it be, to have started to heal, only to have it happen again? To destabilize that way again? Oh, Batman will never be able to resist, there had always been the possibility that Red Hood would win. Not high, and not an unworkable outcome, but snuffing out yet another Robin would ensure Red Hood would die, and then Ra’s would have another knife to twist Jason to his will. Taking pointer from his killer, not just his name, tsk tsk.

And it’s not like he couldn’t revive Tim as well, play the two of them off against each other and Bruce. Using their enmity and bitterness to wound Bruce, using Bruce to keep the two of them from spiraling out of control in their rivalry, make them resent Bruce for picking sides, rubbing salt into Jason that Bruce cared enough to avenge Tim but not him. Taunting Tim for what Bruce dragged them all into over Jason. Throw Damian into it just when it seemed to be settling into an uneasy dynamic equilibrium. Setting the boys on Blüdhaven, drawing in Bruce. See which way Bruce jumped, to protect Dick from the boys or if Bruce will try and recruit Nightwing for the League.

Ra’s has so much to gain from Joker killing Jason. It wouldn’t be difficult to send in a few assassins disguised as henchmen to plant the idea. Sacrifice a pawn or two, to gain a queen and rook.

[joonipertree]

thinking about how sometimes, you're 21 and still living with your parents. They're not nice, you don't want to but for whatever reason you stay where they do. And it kills you because the freedom that you crave for should be yours, but it isn't. You want to run away, want to climb out of the box they set you in but being diplomatic is what you settle for.

Dabi lived as a stray for a long time, for fucked up reasons, you could tell from his scars. Would he turn back time? To when he was still Touya? He could still run away, still say fuck everything and leave. But maybe a son needs unbearable proof that his father is not good for him.

There's bittersweet feelings about his scars, you have bittersweet feelings about your dependence on your family. You two meet one day.

It was after a rough week, your legs moved out of the house before you realised it when your mother's deafening silent treatment got unbearable. Her tone, her stare, her cold shoulders shaved you off from the sides. You were infuriated by her childish behaviour, hurting like a child that you no longer were and all you wanted was to either die or get a hug.

You end up running into the League of Villains instead. They were just swarming the streets, looking for fun and probably food. They glared at you, Toga's sharp teeth glinting under the street light. You wondered how wayward you had become to go between alleyways and stalk into an unknown place.

You wanted to die but not that violently.

A sniffle escapes you though, your cheeks streaked with tears that had been flowing the whole way. You let them drip down, let the little warmth from accumulated sadness comfort you. It sat icy cold on you but your hands were stubborn on not moving.

"Ah! A friend, a friend! Maybe they can feed us! Hi! Can you help a sis out--" Toga hopped forward.

"Okay." You said, cringing at the lack of impulse control. They would take your money anyways, at least you could come out unscathed.

Everyone was shocked, even the person who asked but you dug through your bag and took out some crumpled loose notes. Not a lot, not enough for everyone and not enough to be able to keep some for a motel.

(You should've gotten your allowance before----

You should've gotten a job

You should've just stopped being a disappointment)

But, you'd wait for the sun to rise somewhere and figure out if you wanted to go back or not. (It was already extremely unsafe but you'd lost any emotion at that point, fear gone with your tears.)

"Take it." You said while extending your hand to the young girl. She was in a high-school uniform, you wondered if she'd be okay.

"You're a weirdo, thank you so much!" A blonde, masked guy had spoken a bit too loudly for your liking. It made you flinch.

You knew you were making a mistake, knew that you were lost and finding a way back home would take time and that you never wanted to step inside that house ever again. You were being reckless, an idiot but the numbness wouldn't budge and you were still doing this to survive.

"What's a little thing like you doing here, though?" The very obvious leader of the gang said after he was handed the money.

"My mom's being a cunt."

The laughter that followed was surprising but welcomed, you never got to say it. No one around you would approve of it but these strangers seemed to embrace it wholeheartedly.

One person caught your attention, his body leaning against the wall as his chest shook from the strength of his laughter. He was sharp edges, scarred patches and a pretty smile with jagged canines. He was pretty.

"God, needed that. What's your name?" The white haired leader asked.

You introduced yourselves to each other, only the tall guy with black hair and a pretty smile said nothing. You were intrigued, maybe because you'd become used to silence too much. Or maybe it was because his laughter made you curious about how his voice sounded. But initiating conversations with hot people (he was undeniably hot), was never your forte.

It took a while, of them inviting you to eat ramen in an empty parking lot (you knew you were being naive for thinking they wouldn't harm you but they shared ramen with you. It was your own money but the thought was counted.) and the goth guy came next to you eventually.

He stood tall, cigarette hanging from his mouth and back leaning against a wall. You were silent but eyed him, ingraining the shape of him into your head. You wondered if maybe he found you intriguing with that ever-present bored expression on his face.

You hope he did.

"I'm Dabi. My dad's a cunt too."

A/N: wrote this as catharsis but @dabislittlemouse I thought of u too when I wrote it

[theteasetwrites]

Sense

❧ Pairing: Alpha!Daryl Dixon x Female Omega!Reader ❧ Era: Season 2 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—a/b/o dynamics (leave me alone), rough sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, doggystyle, unprotected sex, knotting (shut up), heat/rut (fuck you), outdoor sex (?), like one or two mentions of breeding, swearing, Shane being creepy ❧ Word Count: 9.2k

❧ Prompt: "What do you even see in this guy?" from the Norman Reedus Whores Discord Prompt Challenge (more info here)

❧ Summary: It's that time of year again, the time when yours and Daryl's highest point of sexual desire sync up. There are a few problems, though: Daryl's preoccupied with finding Sophia, and Shane is getting a little too... attracted to you.

❧ A/N: Here it is, my first foray into omegaverse. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, as they say. I've become the villain. Nevertheless, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out and I didn't cringe too much while writing it so hopefully you don't cringe too much while reading it either (but it's ok if you do—omegaverse is always a little cringe).

Gold-tinted light streamed through the thin fabric of the polyester tent, allowing tiny particles of dust to shine as they floated past the ever-widening beam that shone across your eyelids, causing them to flutter open with a wince.

Something about summers in Georgia seemed to make the sun even more intense, and the heat that radiated from it even more oppressive. You wiggled yourself loose in his arms, tightly wrapped around you from the back. He always tended to cling tighter to you in his sleep, as if it was some kind of unconscious instinct. 

With a huff, you turned on your side to face him, tucking your head between the crook of his neck and the pillow in an attempt to escape the bright light of early morning, and to cling to the last remnants of sleep for as long as you could.

It was also an excuse to take in his scent, strong and woody, yet somehow also soft and musky. By force of habit, he held you closer, his arm tightening over the curve of your side as his nose gently nuzzled your cheek, tickling you awake. 

“Goddamn, it’s bright,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the morning light from burning his eyes. Blue eyes are more sensitive to sunlight, and his were no exception. 

“Mm…” you hummed. Despite your state of consciousness, you felt more like you were in one of those dreams that are so vivid they almost seem real, with fuzziness blurring the usually harsh edges of your perspective. Mornings were always like this, slow and quiet. Even with the world gone to shit, at least you still had this, that one constant—waking up next to him, in those bulky arms made muscular from years of hunting with that silly crossbow. Well, you used to think it was silly. Now you couldn’t complain, since it certainly came in handy against the walkers. 

Ah, yes—the walkers. The only thing that could possibly ruin the peace of your morning. That, and Sophia was missing. Still missing. 

Daryl had been beating himself up about it for the last three days, not able to rest a second since coming to the Greene farm. He was hellbent on finding the child, relating the situation to the time he’d been lost in the woods when he was even younger than her. Only difference for him was that no one cared enough to look for him. 

But it was an inopportune time for the young girl to go missing. You could smell it on him. 

A necessary fact of life. It would happen twice, maybe three times in any given year, but it was enough to threaten his ability to find that little girl. It was radiating off him stronger and stronger with each passing hour, starting around dawn just the day before. For Daryl, it came quick and fast, a scab demanding to be picked, an itch begging to be scratched, a biological imperative he had no choice but to succumb to at some point, but he was determined to keep it off as long as he had to.

You worried for him, knowing how strong his urge was, and how much it clouded his mind and ate at his insides. For some men like him, it was much less intense, much more tolerable. For him, however, it was nearly painful, but he had to put it off, he thought. He couldn’t put himself before that poor soul lost in the forest, before the grieving mother whose glassy eyes haunted him everyday that child was gone, in danger of being torn apart by flesh-eating monsters. 

“Daryl,” you mumbled, feeling him begin to squirm restlessly against you. You knew him well enough to know he was trying to shake the rut out of him, trying to ignore it, though he knew it wasn’t good for him. You tried to hold him steady, pulling the blanket further up his body as if to keep him contained, but the fresh sweat beading on his bare chest was a reminder of just how terribly hot he already was. “Why don’t you stay here today, huh? Don’t go out there… Just rest.”

Just rest, a phrase that had been on your lips many times before, but always seemed to go unheard by the stubborn man. Such a suggestion was practically against the man’s religion, if he had cared enough to believe in one. There was less and less to believe in these days, anyway. 

“Nah,” he replied gruffly, suddenly sitting up in your shared cot to squint in dismay at the sun streaming in. “That kid’s still out there.”

You huffed and watched him move like a rabid animal as he frantically searched for his clothes, cursing under his breath when he picked up one of your jeans instead of his. “Told ya to keep your clothes separate, woman,” he huffed, shaking his head as he buttoned up his raggedy plaid shirt. 

“Mm,” you hummed with a smile, amused by his characteristic grumpiness, though you knew he was a little more irritable than usual, despite his denial. “Keeps my scent on you… Speaking of which…” You sat up to stretch, taking a deep breath as you did so. Even in your own state of slight discomfort, you were always much better at handling it than he was. “Your scent is getting stronger, you know.”

He tilted his head in slight annoyance, knowing that was your way of nagging him about his rut. “I’m fine,” he said simply. “Just stressed.”

You narrowed your eyes at the notion. “Your smell doesn’t get stronger when you’re stressed, Daryl. It gets stronger when you’re—”

“Damnit, woman!” he barked. “I ain’t ruttin’, Christ.”

“Mhm, sure… Well, my heat’s coming.”

Even after three years of being with you, he still turned a light shade of red whenever you so bluntly referred to sex. Still, if your heat was coming, that meant his rut was coming, too. At this point, they were synced, not an uncommon occurrence for mated alphas and omegas such as yourselves. 

Daryl had never quite come to terms with being an alpha, but that’s what he was, and though he often found himself frustrated with his condition, at least he had you. 

And, oh, you… 

You with your scent, the one that he’d memorized and somehow could conjure up in moments when he needed you most, but that wasn’t good enough. He needed you next to him, physically. He always did. He knew that from the moment he first held you that he wouldn’t be able to go without you again, without feeling your closeness, or taking in your sweet, floral scent. 

Sitting there before him, his ratty grey t-shirt two sizes too big draped over your shoulders, just perfectly accentuating the outline of your breasts as they rise and fall with each breath, you looked… ripe. 

Ripe in that you were at your most delectable state, your highest point of primal attraction. You were always beautiful, of course, but in your heat, you were irresistible. He hadn’t been oblivious to it the past few days, weeks even. He knew your body so well now that he had your heat down to an exact science. He knew it was coming, and if your heat’s coming, then his rut is coming, but he didn’t have time for that now, not with the responsibility he had put on his own shoulders.

Still, it was hard to say no, hard not to get back in that cot and take you, tightly gripping your hot, aching body against his as his swelling knot grew inside you, binding you to him even long after he’d released himself into you. 

No time for that, though. Not when he had a job to do.

“I know,” he said, acknowledging that you were on the verge of your heat, that you were going to need him just as much as he needed you soon. “But I gotta look.” He turned to strap his crossbow over his broad chest, the one that made you lick your lips just thinking about your hands all over the muscular tissue. “Gotta find that little girl.”

If there was one thing you loved about Daryl, it was his compassion, his willingness to risk his life to save the weak. Maybe most people didn’t get to see that side of him, but now that he had the opportunity, he could fully be the good man you always knew he was. It was sweet, but it was selfless. Too selfless. 

You tossed the blanket from your body, exposing your bare legs to the air, drawing his eyes immediately to the darkened bit of fabric at the front of your panties, just barely covered by the hem of his shirt. 

With your sudden movement, he caught a deep whiff of you, a more pungent scent than usual emitting from your core as you walked a few steps towards him. 

The feeling of your hands on his chest sent a powerful signal to his brain, one that rang out like a siren, screaming at him to give in. He could tell what you were doing just by the flutter of your lashes, the smirk in your lip, the curl of your fingers as they trailed playfully up and down the collar of his shirt. You wanted him to touch you, to make that slight pain in your core go away before it got too intense, to rid you of that heat building up inside you like a house fire. He wanted that, too. It was impossible not to let your body press up against his, not to feel the hardness of your aroused nipples against his chest, not to rest his hands upon your hips as your forehead touched his.

“Please stay,” you whispered over his lips. “I need my alpha.”

Those words were strategically chosen. You knew reminding him of his possession of you, his omega, would get that chest of his pumped full of hot air and his cheeks reddened with a surge of blood flowing to his head. Not only that, but the possession in your voice, the tone that reminded him that he was yours just as much as you were his. 

He could only muster a few deep, strangled sighs as your hungry lips pursed to kiss just below his ear, making his hands grip harder at your sides and pull you closer until he could feel your heat against his groin, your core getting hotter and hotter with each passing moment, and your scent becoming so irresistible that he found himself subconsciously, ever so slightly, grinding his lower body against yours. 

With a turn of his head, he let your lips meet his, despite how much he knew he was just teasing himself, and you, now. There was no way he could stay, no way he could let that helpless child stay out there any longer. Still, if he could allow himself just one moment to satiate his need for you, he would, even if it only eased a small part of his primal lust. 

“I want your knot,” you whispered sloppily, wildly as your tongue became more desperate to taste his, breaching the entrance of his mouth to lap up his taste. 

He growled low at your words, his hand rising up to tangle in your hair and pull your face as close as it could get. The other hand found itself squeezing your bottom, fingertips digging into the plump flesh as he held you steady to better thrust himself against you, your slick beginning to seep through the thin fabric of your panties and onto the surface of his jeans. 

“(Y/N)...” he panted. “I—I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you panted back, now putting your own hand on the back of his head to pull his lips back to yours. When his lips peeled away, you used your free hand to drag his down to cup your clothed mound, allowing his fingers to graze the puddle of wetness. “My body needs you, Daryl… Just you. Only you.”

Another tried and true method for getting him to shut up and screw you, but the closest you got was thrusting back and forth on his palm, using it to relieve the slightest amount of tension from your aching body. It worked for a moment, but soon you nearly sent him backwards with the force of your body writhing on his hand, and you knew you couldn’t get anywhere with it—you needed the intense friction of his cock, the feeling of it pulsing inside you and hitting the deepest part of you just right.

“Oh, God,” your lips mumbled as they sloppily massaged his. “Fuck me now.”

He pulled his hand away swiftly, using it to separate his body from yours, as he was sure he couldn’t go another moment of being that close to you without ending up back on that bed. 

“Later,” he said, followed by a hard swallow as he tried to calm himself down. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face and wettening the short strands of caramel brown hair stuck to either side.

His body heat showed no signs of dropping, not until he could get far away from you, and he could already tell that if he stayed with you today, he wouldn’t leave for hours after he’d knotted you. There was too much work to be done, and his own biological need would have to wait. He just hoped you could wait, too, though something about the deep, trembling frown dragging on your face told him you couldn’t. At least, not without some struggle.

“Hey,” he said, trying to muster up the strength to touch you without losing it. His hands cupped your cheeks, on fire from the sheer intensity of your internal heat. “I gotta try to find that kid. It’s eatin’ me up inside.”

You mustered a small smile. He was always so damn selfless, it infuriated you. Well, it was what made you fall in love with him, besides the innate biological attraction that drew you to him. Your life philosophy had always been this: there are plenty of alphas, but a good alpha is hard to come by. Daryl was a good alpha, the only one you could tolerate, the only one you could love. You were sure of that. 

Soulmates… As cheesy as it sounded, you knew it from day one, from the moment he walked up to you in that sleazy dive bar, face blurred from the cigarette smoke curling in grey clouds all around him, his hands tucked deep in his jean pockets as he cleared his throat, then stuttered, “C-can I, uh… Can I buy ya a drink?”

If you couldn’t tell by his scent, you would’ve thought he was a beta, but his scent was always strong—you were sure it was because he was immediately attracted to you, and your scent hit him like a semi-truck, too. It was love at first… scent. 

No, Daryl was unlike any other alpha male you’d ever met, but he was one. That was impossible to deny. 

“I know,” you said with a nod. Lifting his hand from your cheek, you pressed a light kiss to his palm, then nuzzled deeper into his touch. That damn man’s hands... Being held by him felt like being a porcelain teacup carefully tucked away in layers of sturdy bubble wrap, cushioned and protected from any cracks that could threaten to mar your fragile surface. “But your rut is eating you up inside too… It’s not good to hold it back for so long.”

He rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but be grateful for your concern, even slightly amused by how precious you were. “Always naggin’ me, woman, ya know that?”

“Mm, you wouldn’t last a day without me nagging you,” you laughed. Biting your lip, you reached up to fix his hair, still scraggly from his pillow. He scrunched his face in exaggerated annoyance, though even he couldn’t help but muster a boyish smirk at your doting. 

As your eyes met his, another deep surge of pained arousal swept through you, triggering more slick to pool in your already soiled underwear. It was tempting to strip yourself of your shirt, knowing such a sight would be the ultimate trigger to get him to lay you down, but in your heart of hearts, you knew he needed to do this for your group. If you had to wait, you would wait, but you couldn’t wait much longer, you feared. 

“When will you be back?”

“‘Fore dark.” He huffed and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, as anything else might’ve been dangerous. Noticing your eyes lower in disappointment, he nudged his forehead against yours. “Hey, omega,” he said softly. “You gonna be okay til I get back?”

No, you wanted to say, but you knew that would be a bit dramatic. Still, you knew from past heats that your need for him only grew stronger when he was gone, and if you were already leaking with slick now, who knows how bad you might get in the meantime. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ll be fine… I think. What about you?”

He scoffed playfully. “Woman, I’m gon’ be fine. Just be ready when I get back, a’right? I’m gonna need you even more.”

“Yes, sir,” you laughed. “Be careful, okay?”

“You too, and…” His voice trailed off, his face becoming less animated and more stern with each passing moment he went over the words he was about to say. “Stay in the tent.”

Never before had you gone through your heat around so many other alphas. Rick and T-Dog didn’t worry him much—Rick was married, bonded with Lori, and T-Dog seemed respectful of your bond with Daryl, but then there was… Shane. 

Shane was an odd one in that though he was ostensibly an alpha, he seemed too emboldened, often disrespecting Daryl’s claim over you. On at least two occasions he had gotten much too close to you for your liking, and Daryl already had a pretty strong hunch that Shane had slept with Lori, a marked omega not unlike you.

It infuriated him, and he couldn’t even fathom how Shane could still be breathing at this point. If he caught even a whiff of that man on you, he’d strangle him with his bare hands, he was certain of it. 

Knowing just how much Shane’s dilated eyes followed your body on a daily basis, he was sure your heat would attract him like a moth to a flame.

“Keep that thing on ya if you gotta go out,” he added, gesturing to the hunting knife he’d given you as it lay on the foldable bedside table. “That pig cop bastard touches you, I’ll—”

“He won’t touch me,” you interjected. “Your scent is strong enough to keep him away… My big strong alpha.” Your fingers tickled his chest as you smirked, holding back a chuckle at the cheesy compliment. 

His heart fluttered, as it always did when you broke out the “big strong alpha” card. He was a sucker for it.

“A’right,” he said. “I love ya, sweet girl. Be back soon, hopefully with that kid.”

“Love you, too, Daryl.”

As he requested, you stayed in the tent for a while after he’d left, occupying yourself with the usual routine for your heat.

It wasn’t ideal, but the cot in your tent was the only place to make a nest of his clothes, a safe spot to immerse yourself in his scent until he came back to you. 

Even that proved difficult, as you became quickly lightheaded, losing your balance each time you bent over to pick up another one of his shirts. 

“Shit,” you cursed, holding your forehead and shutting your eyes tight to try to will away the dizziness. Every omega’s heat was different, and yours always had the worst dizziness, the worst fever, the worst throbbing pain in your womb. 

It was your body’s instinctual way of demanding to be bred, and thank God you still had your birth control pills, even if your irrational, heat-ridden mind desperately wanted to carry Daryl’s child more than usual. There couldn’t be a worse possible time to bring a child into the world, you were sure. 

The pounding in your head started now, in sync with each quickening beat of your anxious heart. It was as if the further Daryl got from the farm, the worse your symptoms became, the more every cell in your body screamed bloody murder in an attempt to call him back to you.

“Ah!” you quietly cried out. Doubling over in pain, you flopped yourself back onto the bed, its surface now draped in layers upon layers of every article of clothing Daryl had in his possession. 

You buried your head in his pillow, trying desperately to surround yourself in his scent. It eased the pain slightly, tricking your mind into thinking he was there with you, holding you, but you lacked his warmth, his unique touch, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you to sleep as he held his deflating knot inside of you.

You reached down to find his favorite white undershirt, the one that always had the strongest scent. In desperation, you tugged off your shirt and laid the undershirt over your bare breasts, massaging them over top of the fabric. 

It couldn’t beat the real thing, the real feeling of his chest pressed up to yours, but at least you’d get more of his scent on you, and at least your sensitive nipples could feel the familiar tickle of the ribbed fabric of that old tank top. 

“Daryl…” you moaned shakily under your breath. You hadn’t realized just how bad it was, how much your heat had worsened just within a matter of the three hours he’d been gone. 

The wetness was beginning to soak through your new pair of panties. You reached down to slip your fingers below the fabric, scooping up the slick as you tickled your aching clit. 

Even just a little sensation was too much, and not at all the sensation you needed. Your body needed Daryl’s touch, not yours, not anyone else’s but his. The feeling stung, made you flinch in combined pain and pleasure. It might not have been him, but your hand was going to have to do if you wanted any semblance of relief before he got back.

You thrusted hard against your hand, arching your back with each movement as you desperately tried to soothe your body. All you could do was try to trick your heat-induced brain into thinking he was there, touching you… And moments later, when your fingers dug into you, squirming as they went in deeper and pumped hard to stimulate you, it almost worked.

“Oh, yes…” you sighed. “Daryl… Oh—”

“(Y/N)?”

Shane’s voice made you shoot up, sitting up straight to face the opening of the tent where the man’s silhouette was displayed from the outside. 

Shit, you thought to yourself. What the hell does he want?

“(Y/N), you in there?”

“Yeah,” you huffed, quickly redressing yourself in Daryl’s shirt, then crossing over to haphazardly step into a pair of sweatpants. “Gimme a sec.”

Now semi-decent, you unzipped the flap of the tent, and swiftly stepped out to close it, hoping Shane couldn’t see the nest you’d made, or the wet spot on the bed.

Instead, you felt his eyes on you, trailing up and down your shirt, narrowing at the slight hardness of your nipples, still aroused from your touching.

“Everything okay?” you asked him, hoping to get him to leave as soon as he showed up.

He shrugged and folded his arms. “I was gonna ask you the same question. Ain’t seen ya since yesterday… Been in your tent all day. Thought you’d be out, I don’t know… doin’ laundry or somethin’.”

You scoffed, slightly offended by the assumption, though it wasn’t like there was much else to do. “I’m not feeling great,” you said simply, but you were sure he could tell why.

Indeed, he could. The scent was enough, much more potent and sweeter than usual, yet with much more of Daryl’s heavy scent than he liked. It was a bitter reminder that you were claimed, and the smell repulsed him, yet only made him want to cover it with his own.

“I know,” he said. “Your, uh… Your scent.”

Embarrassment. That was the only word you could think of to describe how you felt, and annoyance at his invasion of your privacy, but you weren’t confrontational enough to say anything. Not like Daryl.

“Yeah, well, uh… Did you need something?”

He lifted two silver pails in each hand, and you already knew what he was going to ask. 

“Was gonna see if you’d help me pump some water from the well, if you’re up to it. Everybody else is busy, and I could use another hand.”

You always did have a hard time saying no, even if you knew your body was weak with your heat, but water was important, and maybe it could take your mind off your condition until Daryl would return, you reasoned.

Still, it was awfully bold of him to ask that of you, knowing you were in heat, and that you were with Daryl. You did as Daryl had told you—you took your knife and carried it in plain sight in the holder on your belt. 

Each step you took alongside that man towards the well made you ache even more. Every muscle burned, and every dizzy spell became stronger until you sat with a huff on the wall of the well, taking a sip of your canteen as Shane readied the rope to lower his bucket.

“You all right?” he asked. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “Just… I get really winded when I’m… Yeah.”

Shane nodded, watching closely as the water dripped from your chin, trickling onto your shirt and down below your collar. 

“Don’t envy you,” he said. “Never been more inconvenient timing…”

“No,” you agreed. “No there hasn’t.”

You watched as he lowered the bucket, then pulled it back up with a strain of his muscles. Show-off, you thought, catching onto his less than subtle attempts to seduce you.

Filling his canteen from the pail, he sat himself down beside you, much too close for comfort.

His smell wasn’t too strong, but strong enough to make you sick. Any alpha’s scent besides Daryl’s would’ve made you nauseous now, and with Shane so close, his shoulder touching yours, you felt the bile in your stomach begin to rise at the base of your esophagus.

If he hadn't been there, it would’ve been nice. The warm August breeze tickling the nearby wind chimes, the birds chirping in the golden light of late afternoon, the placid quiet that settled in when all other sounds ceased… And then he nudged your shoulder again, offering you a misplaced smile before wrapping a loose arm around your shoulder, causing your spine to straighten in slight shock at the feeling.

“You all right?” he asked, rocking you back and forth with his hand curled on your shoulder. 

Your cheek twitched in disgust at the whiff of his scent, much more powerful than usual in your heightened state. Aware of his scent rubbing off on you, you wriggled uncomfortably, thankfully causing him to remove his arm. 

“I’m fine. Just need to get back soon. If Daryl knows I didn’t stay in the tent he’d skin me alive,” you laughed nervously. 

“Where is Daryl?”

“Oh, um… He’s out looking for Sophia. Trying that new lead near the abandoned house.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thought he’d be here with you… With you like this.”

That’s none of your damn business, you thought, but of course, you were much too nice to say that, so instead you defended him.

“Well, he knows how much it means to everyone if we find her… He cares.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, thinking about him, his selflessness, his bravery, his kindness. Maybe he didn’t always show it, but ever since he lost Merle, he’d been coming into his own, embracing his true nature instead of trying to be something he wasn’t. 

“Pfft,” he scoffed, and just that simple, dismissive sound was enough to get your blood boiling. “Think he oughta care more about you.”

“He cares a lot about me,” you quickly replied. “You don’t know anything about Daryl.”

“I know he should be here takin’ care of you…” He leaned closer looking you forcefully in the eye. He had a much more stern, intense look than you’d seen in him before. 

His hand caught you off guard as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, revealing Daryl’s mark on the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Hey!” You pulled away, standing up to your feet and looking back at him with wild, confused eyes. He’d never touched you like that before, and it terrified you, knowing how many male alphas could turn violent at the drop of a hat, and Shane was particularly volatile, more so than Daryl or Rick or T-Dog. He was the only one who truly frightened you at times, and immediately you cursed yourself for agreeing to go anywhere with him.

He stood up to pull harder on you, tugging more at your shirt collar to glare at the scar made by the indentation of Daryl’s teeth over years of him marking you in that same spot. 

“What do you even see in this guy?” he asked. “Sorry excuse for an alpha.”

You pulled away one last time, nearly ready to pull out your knife if you needed to.

“Fuck you,” you replied. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t have to explain shit to you, Shane. I came out here to help, not to listen to you insult Daryl.”

You sidestepped around him to lift the filled pail. “I’m taking this back to camp. You can do the rest on your own,” you said, but he planted himself firmly in front of you, pushing you back towards the well. “Shane,” you said, “get out of my way.”

Before you knew it, he was lunging towards you, eyes locked on the crook of your shoulder, opposite of Daryl’s mark. If he’d gotten any further, you were sure he’d try to mark you by force. 

Holding your knife to his neck, you pushed him away with all the strength you had. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you panted. 

He shook his head, as if trying to shake out whatever desires he had. “I—I don’t…”

You didn’t wait for him to explain himself. There wasn’t any way he could, after all. He had come close to violating you, to marking you as some kind of encroachment upon you, upon Daryl’s mate.

The breeze hit you as you walked, wafting Shane’s faint smell up into your flaring nostrils. That bastard, you thought. The nerve… I can’t stand his fucking smell.

You couldn’t bear to bring that scent into your tent, so you sat several yards away from the camp, perched on a log as you hugged your legs against your chest, trying to let the scent of Daryl’s shirt envelop you. 

That, and it seemed to be the only solution to easing your cramps, twice as bad as your run-of-the-mill menstrual cramps. The heat was unbearable as the sweat on your brow dripped and caught in your eyelashes, clouding your vision for a moment. You balled your fists and rubbed your eyes, and all the while, you swore you could smell Daryl’s scent getting stronger, as if it was carried by the breeze that gently flowed through your hair. 

It was hypnotic, drawing your eyes up to instinctively look in the direction of the wind. 

There he was, strutting towards you across the grassy field, sweat glistening on his bare, summer-tanned arms as his eyes narrowed at you. His look was somewhere between scolding and smoldering, with a heavy dose of desperation thrown in. 

One thing was certain: he had one thing in mind when he saw you. 

Picking up his pace and stepping with long strides, practically jogging, he tore his crossbow from his back and flung it to the ground, a coarse grunt combined followed by a deep huff as he swiftly moved closer, like a caged tiger about to be let out.

“Daryl?” you called out to him. You found yourself walking towards him, too, eyes locked on his heaving chest as his hands frantically worked to unbutton the top of his shirt. 

The closer he got, the stronger his musky, earthy scent became—more potent and virile, more intoxicating as his energy surrounded you. 

His hands separated now, one tugging on the middle button of his shirt, the other desperately loosening his belt buckle, the movement allowing the toned muscles of his arms to flex in the glow of the golden afternoon. 

He’d been unsuccessful in his search, and the frustration of not finding Sophia only made his instinct stronger, his need greater, his arousal becoming more and more unbearable the longer he looked at you.

As he approached, there was only one thing on his mind, one sole purpose for him to commit to in that moment: taking you, filling you, breeding you.

Now with both hands on his belt, freeing the leather from the loops of his jeans, he dropped it carelessly, then quickly moved to the button. 

He was only about two yards away, but it was too far. Your feet picked up the pace, until finally you were in his arms, limbs and tongues tangled around each other, breaths heavy and chests heaving, cores hot and aching.

Shane’s lingering scent didn’t even occur to you then, not even as Daryl’s nose sank into the crook of your neck, his hand pulling back the collar of your shirt as his tongue traced over the raised scar of his mark, tickling you.

Your own hands clung tight to his shirt, nearly tearing it as with every passing moment you became more frenzied, more impatient to feel his hot, bare skin under your fingertips.

When the warmth of his mouth slowly left your shoulder, and his rose up to narrow at you, somewhere between hunger and primal rage, you panicked, grasping his sweat-drenched cheeks in an attempt to pull his lips to yours. He pulled back with a low growl.

“Why’s his scent on you?”

Your hands tightened on his cheeks as you turned to stone, wanting nothing more than to ignore his questioning and carry on with the natural conclusion of your synced biological states. Daryl, however, was not going to forget so easily.

He knew you would never sleep with Shane. That was out of the question. Besides, if you had, Shane’s scent would’ve been much, much stronger, but it was concentrated on your shoulders, and it was fading, but repulsive nonetheless.

“He—”

“That bastard touch you?”

You froze for a moment, simultaneously terrified of the inscrutable look in his eyes, and aroused by the very same look. 

“Tryin’ to put his filthy scent on ya?” he asked, more demandingly now, and yet with an oddly lustful lilt to his otherwise angered growl. “I’ll kill him… I’ll—”

“He barely touched me.”

Under your fingers, you felt his cheeks trembling in rage, his skin heat up from the inside out. He looked ravenous—out for blood, Shane’s blood. You couldn’t care less about that, though, as your body screamed to be touched, begged to be put out of its misery from the only person who could ever relieve you. 

“He’s not my alpha,” you reminded him. “You are.” Even just a matter of moments was too much to handle like this, with the heat oppressing you from every possible angle, suffocating you. Being away from Daryl during this time was hard, but being too close and not having him touch you was worse. 

You lifted your shirt above your head, rustling your hair in the process, then hurriedly removed your bra, finally freeing half your body from its cloth prison. Under normal circumstances, you’d never strip yourself out in the open, but right now? You were far enough from the camp not to care, and the heat was closing in all around you. 

Pupils dilated, swallowing the usually gentle blue in a black hole of lust, his eyes glued to your bare breasts. If your goal was to distract him from his fury, it was working.

“Alpha,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his hot, clammy neck, drenched in sweat that could’ve been from the Georgia summer heat, but you were sure it was also just his condition, his rut taking over every function of his aching body. “You’re the only one… My mate.”

His eyes darted to your shoulder, his mark. It was his physical reminder that you belonged to him, that the first time you made love during your heat, he loved you enough to leave that unique, intimate mark in the shape of his teeth, one he’d never given to anyone else before, and never would again.

Most of all, it reminded him that no one else could touch you, that he was the only man who could know the intensity of your sweet scent, the softness of your body, the sounds of your heavy whimpers as he filled you until his knot swelled, keeping him in place. 

When his fingers trailed along the raised skin of your scar, you shivered at his touch. His face turned soft, yet strained with lust. Tilting his head, his other hand held your chin, maneuvering your head so he could nudge his nose against your cheek, his heavy breath blowing gentle, yet insistent, puffs. 

His lips softly brushing against your face, he whispered in your ear: “You need me, huh?”

Clutching your hands to his shoulders, desperate to tug off his shirt, you whimpered under your breath, sighing deeply all the while. 

“Omega needs ‘er alpha?” he asked lowly against your ear. 

Unable to restrain yourself any longer, your hands scrambled up to tangle in his hair, pulling his lips to yours.

“Now,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Need you… now…”

He nodded frantically as he worked to undo the last buttons on his shirt, then carelessly tossed the fabric to the ground. 

“Right here?” he asked, panting between kisses. Usually, such an idea would be out of the question for the private man, who never liked the idea of being so vulnerable out in the open like this, but he didn’t care much now. The tightness in his jeans and the dull ache all throughout his body made him lose sight of that, as much as he could. Privacy be damned. “Ain’t… ain’t you w-want your… nest?”

Shaking your head vehemently as his lips chased yours, desperate to cling to them, you pulled him down with you as you lowered yourself to the ground, until you sunk down into blades of sage green grass, faded by exposure from the hot summer sun. 

Daryl’s laugh melted on your tongue like an ice cube, its cadence swallowed by your open mouth as you devoured him. 

His weight on top of you provided some relief, but it wasn’t enough. What you needed was his body inside of yours, inhabiting it, reminding you again and again just who it belonged to. You didn’t really need the reminder, of course, but the thought of belonging to him was all the more arousing. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut in tranquilized bliss when his body weight shifted, and he quickly pulled your pants and sodden underwear down to your ankles, where you kicked them off with a wiggle. 

Before you knew it, his hands were hiking up the back of your thighs, resting them on his shoulders as he dove down to lick the slick that had settled between your folds. As the tip of his tongue swirled around your clitoris, your shoulders tensed and you let out a sharp hiss. It was already so sensitive, aching for more friction to stimulate the bundle of nerves.

He lowered his hand to curl two of his thick, calloused fingers inside of you, while his tongue sucked and lapped at the sensitive bud that begged for attention.

“Ah!” you cried out wildly, shaking as your hands gripped the grass, pulling it out in frustration. His fingers were not yet deep enough to relieve you of your desire, but his tongue moved so expertly that with each swirl you felt a new little shockwave pulse through you. “Yes! Oh!”

His fingers sank deeper now, pulling in and out of you rapidly, the palm of his hand hitting your sensitive outer parts each time. 

Peeling his mouth away, he watched as the clear liquid pooled onto his hand, the slick glistening in the last light of the golden summer afternoon. 

“Never seen ya make this much, girl,” he panted, pumping faster and faster to get you properly loosened up. After all, his knot would need enough room to sink inside you. “All this pretty slick… Just for me.”

With that curl of his fingers, you gasped, arching your back and throwing your arms over your face as you tried not to scream, but the feeling was intense. You were always so much more sensitive in your heat, and however he touched you, you were going to feel it ten times as strong. 

“F-fuck!” you croaked out against your arm. The harder he went, the more your voice stuttered, the more your body bounced with his hand burying into you. “Alpha-a-a!”

“Shhh,” he said, holding his finger to his lips as he leaned over you, his other hand ceasing its harsh movement to gently caress your aching clit. “Keep it down, girl.”

He looked quickly back in the direction of the camp and the Greenes’ farmhouse, hoping they were still a good distance away, and that the view of the two of you couldn’t be so easily seen from behind the bushes and the smattering of oak trees.

Lunging up to fling your arms around him, he grabbed onto you in surprise at the sudden movement, and huffed as your lips attacked his cheeks, then trailed down to his mark, the small indentation of your own teeth on his shoulder. 

His hand didn’t forget its job, though. He cupped your mound to once again penetrate you with his fingers, spreading them open inside you to better stretch you out. 

As his fingers dug into you, your teeth sunk into his flesh, reopening the old wound once again until a few drops of blood could be tasted on your tongue. 

He held you tighter with his other arm, digging his fingernails into your back as he groaned. “(Y/N)…”

In a fit of impatience, you reached down to begin tugging his unzipped pants from his body. He smirked against your lips, amused by how much you needed him. He needed you, too, though. It was torture not to be inside you, but he knew himself well enough to know he could hold out for a while, though not for long. 

He maneuvered himself to help you remove his jeans, your hands constantly fighting with his, though both had the same goal. Both of you were wild, returned to a primal state of need and desperation. You were bound to each other by flesh and scent, and it only made the need for each other so much stronger, so unbearable in the most blissful way. It was torture, it was agony, and yet it was the most pure, beautiful feeling of yearning. 

When he was bare, unburdened by the restraints of his clothes and now free in his natural state, he bent his knees under your thighs, and with his hands, pulled you up to his core until the tip of his cock met your slit. 

He cursed himself for losing his patience, as the feeling of you grazing against him sent a sharp electrical current through him, more potent than anything he’d felt before. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, holding you tighter by your lower back as he lowered you onto his cock. 

Your head once again buried in his shoulder, you groaned as he let you sit, his cock burrowing deeper every second. “Oh, God… Daryl…”

“Just… stay still for a minute.” 

He took a deep breath, holding you in your position as you sat upright with his legs underneath, and his cock now as deep as it could go. All you needed was for him to move and you’d be writhing, with an imminent release soon upon you, but he just needed the stillness for a moment, to bask in the feeling of completeness, of filling you perfectly and so effortlessly, as though your bodies were made for each other. 

He felt your slick drip down his inner thigh, and with that, he fell forward, taking you down with him until your back was once again against the grass.

“Oh!” you cried in shock. 

His hand trailed up your sides, then in a split second, he pinned your arms above your head, just as he began violently thrusting, hovering over you with an intense look of purpose.

His thrusts were fast, sloppy, wild… Yet his cock was angled so perfectly, and the friction of his body hitting your clit with each movement was inching you closer and closer to the climax, the one you needed to feel relief from your heat. 

Usually, he went slower, much more precise and sensual, but in his rut, he couldn’t hold back like he did. It was pure, uninhibited, primal lust, and you felt it, too. Clenching your teeth and letting out a hiss, you struggled to tug your arms out from the grip of his hands. Sensing this, he loosened his hands, allowing you to lean up to pull him to your face, his body still wildly moving in and out of you. Your head leaned in to catch his lips with yours, and soon your tongues were inside the other’s mouth, swirling around in untamed circles.

You always needed the closeness of him, to feel his chest pressed against yours, so you held him tight as his cock pumped back and forth within the walls of your twitching entrance. 

With a strained grunt delivered straight to your gaping mouth, he reached down to manually wrap your legs tight around his lower back. Your heels dug into his ass, keeping him steady for a moment as he paused inside of you to take a breath. 

In the crook of your neck and shoulder, he kissed your mark. Mirroring his action, you did the same to his, while the nails of your tightly drawn fingers made shallow scratches in the skin of his back. 

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You feel so good, omega.”

You laughed and grabbed his cheeks to turn his face back to yours. He looked a sight—red blotches adorning his cheeks, hefty beads of sweat trickling down his strained forehead, lips quivering and drenched in your saliva and slick. Sweat-soaked hair framed his face as the darkened strands stuck to the skin. Redness had even pooled in his chest, which heaved exhaustingly over yours.

As he caught his breath, you snaked your hand between your bodies, lowering it to your clit. The closer you got to your orgasm, the more stimulation you needed to maintain the tingly feeling in your core, so you circled your finger rapidly, feeling yourself on track towards bliss.

The sudden attention made you flinch and clench around him, sending him grunting as his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck!” he groaned. “Ah, yeah… Shit, you’re gonna make me come.”

He pumped himself inside you again, hitting your most sensitive spot while you touched yourself, and it was only a matter of seconds now until you reached your peak. He knew that, too. His body was in sync with yours by now, and soon your bodies would be locked together, but first you needed to have your own release.

Still, he felt his knot begin to form around the base of his cock, swelling as he moved back and forth. As he hit into you, your entrance stretched more and more, preparing for your orgasm, and his knot.

“Oh, God!” you whimpered. “I—I… Daryl…”

“I got ya…” he panted back, in that deep, raspy whisper. “Come for your alpha…”

It was the last straw, the last little bit of motivation you needed as he thrusted into you harder, and your walls began to pulse with each shockwave of your orgasm.

Your body went limp underneath him as your mouth hung open to release a series of low moans. “Jesus…” you sighed. 

He smiled and lowered himself to kiss you, taking in every labored breath. “I love you,” he said. 

“I love you, too,” you laughed deliriously. 

He lifted his head back up, holding himself above you with his arms outstretched to support his body weight as he began to thrust again.

But he could sense something that froze him in place, a whiff of putrid scent lingering on the breeze.

“Shit,” he huffed. 

Catching the last remnants of Shane’s scent, he growled and pulled himself out with a small cascade of your arousal.

“Turn around,” he said lowly.

Not waiting for you to answer, his hands gripped either side of your waist to maneuver your body until you were on all fours. “Daryl,” you panted in surprise. 

The incessant pounding in his head was too loud to hear your voice call out to him, too loud to hear your strained whimper as his cock filled you again, this time with his knot so close to its most swollen state.

You felt his body align with yours, gluing itself to your back. His teeth dug hard into your flesh, with each deep, purposeful thrust making you groan in combined pleasure and pain.

To his frustration, Shane’s scent became stronger, more potent. It was sickening, but you couldn’t even notice it, not when Daryl’s scent surrounded you in a thick, hazy cloud.

No, you didn’t notice. You couldn’t even see Shane approaching in the distance, but Daryl did.

He growled against your shoulder, eyes glowering to meet Shane’s as he froze in place. He must’ve been going out to collect firewood, as he usually did around this time, but that was of no consequence to Daryl, whose rage-induced lust only got stronger.

Shit, he saw Shane’s lips move to say. He was too far away to hear, but still close enough to see the look of panic, and jealousy, on his face.

Under normal circumstances, Daryl would’ve jumped up and ran to put his clothes on, but there wasn’t going to be any separation of your bodies now, not even if he tried. He couldn’t betray his primal need, and neither could you. Besides, it was the perfect opportunity to let Shane know just who you belonged to.

“Oh, fuck!” you blurted out as his body thrusted hard into you, his cock penetrating the deepest part of your insides. “Daryl!”

He dug his teeth deeper into your shoulder, making you cry out once again. “Alpha!”

“That’s right,” he panted into your ear. “I’m your alpha… Scream for me.”

“Oh, yes! Daryl!”

He didn’t want you to keep it down now. With Shane near, that hideous reminder of his scent on the air, he needed you to scream, to let the bastard know once and for all that you were bound for life to him, no one else.

Shane was still dumbfounded, intrigued by the sight, but repulsed, too. He simply couldn’t look away, until Daryl’s snarl became so violent that he found himself backing away, finally yielding to the superior man, the superior alpha. 

Daryl’s lip quirked slightly to one side. His show of dominance had worked. He could be embarrassed about it later, but now? Now, he felt his knot swell up again, almost so big now that he could no longer pull himself out.

You felt it, too, the tightness at your entrance as his knot stretched you much further than it had in a long time. He could only knot during his rut, but you knew this was no ordinary rut.

“Feel that?” he sloppily groaned against your shoulder. “Feel my knot?”

Rendered speechless, you nodded frantically as your arms threatened to fold underneath you. They shook to stabilize you, but soon his body stopped moving entirely, and all you could feel was that knot keeping him in place, seconds before his climax.

“Fuck!” he cried out. “Shit, I—I’m…”

You felt his cock begin to twitch deep inside you, spreading his spend in the deepest recesses of your core, where you felt his warmth embrace you. 

With a gasp, your arms finally gave out, taking Daryl down with you, and with your head buried in the grass, you let out a deep sigh of relief. Something within you switched off, and finally, your heat was over.

Exhaustion swiftly took over Daryl, and he rolled onto his side with you in his arms, and you knew the two of you would be like this for a while, possibly all night. His knot would take hours to go away, it usually did.

You felt his lips gently purse against the skin of your neck, repeating several times as he worshipped you and the taste of your sweat. 

“Shit, that was good,” he huffed, laughing a little to himself at the look on Shane’s face. Soon he’d find himself fuming again, needing to throw a few choice words at the insufferable man, but he’d rather bask in the afterglow for now. Besides, he was king of the jungle now, as far as he was concerned.

Blissfully unaware of the situation, you giggled and wrapped your hand around his. “Mm, so good… And you tried to tell me you weren’t rutting.”

He shook his head and bit your neck just a little, eliciting a small faux whimper from you. “Hey!” you laughed. 

“You know just how to push my buttons, huh?”

“Better than anyone else.”

Holding each other in the grass, night fell over you like a blanket, and soon all you could hear were crickets and toads, and the faint tinkling of the wind chimes from the Greene house porch. 

Soon you were lulled to sleep, with Daryl just barely dozing off, but he tried to keep awake, in case of the off chance a walker stumbled out of the woods. 

In the morning, he’d have to corner Shane, to further reiterate the point he tried to prove earlier, to reassert his dominance. 

That could wait, though. For now, he just held you, wondering what you were dreaming about. 

He just hoped he was in it. 

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

~

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[gffa]

What is trigun stampede even about

At its heart, Trigun Stampede about the conflict between love/pacifism and rage/retribution, set between two twin non-human brothers who love each other but diverge because of this conflict, even as they desperately want to pull the other back to them, with a mix of various other characters coming along for the ride. When future humanity creates a new type of lifeform called Plants, beings that are connected to a higher dimension's energy source which allows them to be used to create food/water/air/etc., humanity is not exactly great about this. Some people are kind and compassionate, some are horrifically abusive, uncaring of the hurt they're causing. The only two sentient Plants of the series are the twins--Millions Knives and Vash the Stampede--and when they discover what the humans are really doing, Knives crashes humanity's ships onto a desert planet with no resources, where they will truly die without the Plants to create food and water for them. Vash believes they can find a way to live together with the humans, he sees the best in them. Knives thinks they should all die for how they use Plants up until they die, for how they experiment on Plants, for how they attack anything that they're afraid of. (It's very much a "the villain really kind of has a point, but takes it way too far, but you can kind of understand how he got there, especially depending on how much pain Plants are capable of feeling, not that we know the answer to that" kind of set-up.) Their conflict (not that Vash wants a conflict, but Knives isn't going to stop stealing back all the Plants the humans have taken, killing anyone who gets in his way) plays out across the entirety of the desert world, with Vash basically unable to go anywhere without some kind of trouble coming down on his head (whether through his own Plant abilities being necessary, bad luck, or Knives stealing back a Plant) and this weighs on Vash's soul like a ton of bricks. Vash tries really hard to keep up the appearance of being the local sillyman, but babygirl has the biggest case of depression you've ever seen, because he can't stop people from being hurt, he can't stop his twin from hurting people, he can't stop all the conflict going on around him, he can't save everyone, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how many pieces of himself he loses along the way. But neither can he just sit things out, because he's a Plant, he's stronger and faster and more powerful than any human, he has to at least try. Try to save them, try to reach his twin. What makes it all worse is that, underneath everything else, Knives is doing this for Vash. Oh, he's definitely not doing what Vash would want and I don't mean to make Knives sound soft or kind or nice, he's manipulative and awful, but I do genuinely believe that his motivation under all of it is to build a better world for Vash, one that doesn't have humans, one that only has Plants. It has some really beautiful animation, some great humor, some really excellent side characters, some badass fight scenes, some fascinating worldbuilding, but primarily I am here for the conflict between "we can live together" versus "the humans have and will continue to kill us if I don't do something" overlaid with how they both desperately want the other to come around to their side. Also, it's basically a Space Western with scifi elements and it's great.

[gayuu-the-necromancer]

SPOILERS ALERT! (Obviously!)

I haven't actually finished. Just one more chapter left. But its fine. I'm done with the major plot anyways. Let's start!

How do I feel about Elbert's route?

All in all, it was kinda....meh. I wasn't entirely bad nor it was good. It's just...I'm so dissatisfied.

How was the story?

It was half boring and half good. I chose the Madness route and let me just say, for how dark Elbert's story is, the ending is just so disappointing. Now this is just the Madness route, maybe in the Blind route is much better (I hope it is).

El's story mainly contains two stories - 1. Main story that reveals El's past and his curse and 2. Bernard&Co. I'll be honest... I don't care about Bernard and his company! Nor do I care about Gabriel and his kinky stuff nor Daisy and her blue poppies. It really has nothing to do with El's past. It's just boring side story that just keeps getting in the way of the main storyline and it cannot be avoided. I honestly didn't pay any attention to Bernard&Co story because I was bored and I'm more interested in getting to know El.

On the other hand, I was quite interested in El's past. Yes! It's one of the most tragic ones I've heard. I love how dark it is and the writers did a good job in making me actually hate EVERYONE related to El. I also loved how they showed the scene where Al tells Kate about El's past in a library where they first met and at the same time, El was having a dream where he sees his whole childhood. It's a nice transition. They keep switching between Kate's pov to El's pov from time to time. Good job! I liked that.

The writers did keep me interested in the story because to be honest, I was really looking forward on how El finally comes out from his tragic past and faces his true nemesis. But they went and ruined it in the end so much so that it WASN'T WORTH SPENDING 1500 DIAMONDS and 25 story tickets!!! Yes! I did use my diamonds, which I've been saving for Jude, on story tickets.....because I was so hooked! I couldn't wait 10 days and I couldn't sleep until I found out what's going to be Jeffery's ending.

What happens to Jeffery?

By this time, you must know that, Jeffery is the true main villain in El's route. Not Gabriel Bernard. If you don't know, Jeffery was the chief butler of the Greetia house. He and the other servants SA-ed El everyday since he was 9-year-old. Not only this, let me list out all the crimes he has committed:

SA-ed a minor everyday.

Brainwashed and manipulated that same child.

Bribed a guy to kidnapped Kate and also told him to sell her, because you know, she was preventing him from SA-ing El.

Tried to kill Kate.

And also being completely delusional in thinking that the reason why El was trying to kill him because Kate brainwashed him and not because...all of the above.

Yeah. So you'd think, a monster like that would get painful death, right? But no. El just shows up, says hi and stabs him with his sword. That's it.

I was really disappointed, because I thought, El was going to make him suffer for what he has done and killing him as painfully as possible, because he deserves it. For some reason, the writers just made it anticlimactic. If I compare this ending with William and Harrison, their ending is much more exciting. Especially William's...I'll translate that as soon as my exam is over...so please be patient, it's on Sep 8th. Okay?

But yeah, that's it. I don't how El kills him in the other ending. Someone told me that El poisons him. Poison apple I guess. I'll see that when I play the other ending, but not anytime soon.

What is El's tragic ending?

El's tragic ending according to Victor is to die while being unsatisfied. We see El trying to collect the most beautiful thing in the world, but El's tragic end is, he will die without getting that most beautiful thing.

What about Al?

I still don't understand why Al kissed Kate. It still confuses me and Yes! Kate does tell El that Al kissed her and El was like--

Kate: "Well....Mr. Alphonse.....kissed me on the lip--"

El kisses her before she could finish her sentence.

El: "Tell me Kate, who is your daddy?"

Kate: *blushes* "It's Lord Elbert...."

El: *smiling* "Good."

El: "If it's Al, I don't mind..."

Kate: "You're....n-not going to kill him, right?"

El: "If it was someone else, I would have.......I'd rather you not, but if you want to kiss someone else besides me, it should be only Al."

Kate: *jealous* "I don't want to kiss someone else. I only want to kiss you..."

Yeah, that's El's reaction. He was surprisingly calm about it. Al on the other hand is starting to grow on me. He's like the Mitsuhide of this game, so mysterious that you can't tell if he's on good side or bad side. El seems to trust Al very much. Yes, he is jealous about Kate spending time with another man, but he also trusts Al and knows that no matter what, Al will keep her safe. Al on the other hand dislikes the fact that both Kate and El trusts him so much. I don't know if Al even likes El as friend. Sometimes he acts like friend and sometimes he doesn't. It's so confusing, so I'm really looking forward for his route.

Kate and El

Honestly, these two are made for each other. Both are jealous possessive types that keeps asking each other if they were thinking about each other while they were apart. There are only some cute moments here and there, like El staring at Kate so he could get into her heart and also making sure that she only looks at him and only thinks about him and also grabs her face and makes it turn to look at him and also asking to look only at him lol. It's a funny scene I liked it. But most of his route is full of sadness and sadness and .....lots of sadness. You get my point.

Final thoughts

This post is really short but there is not much to talk about because I already spoiled you guys about El's past which is the major part of the story.

I wish the story was bit more exciting, at least the writers could have improved the ending of Jeffery after making me hate him so much. All in all it was a pretty meh experience. I still think Harry's route is the best one so far.

[redhead-batgal]

can I request you do a Tim Drake x reader where the reader is a spider-like anti-hero that is infamous for getting on batman's bad side due to their methods (i.e. hurting bad people like r*pists, etc.) as well as criticizing him for his techniques, and Tim one day bringing them to the manor after a night of patrol and how the batfam reacts? [can you use 21, 8, 15, 28, 31, 32, 19, 35, 26, 17, 3, 1 & 25 from the neutral prompts; 23 from the angsts prompts; and 1, 27, 34 from the fluff prompts]

I'm so sorry this is pretty long, you can cut out any prompts if you'd like wefhsdkj anyways, have a nice day/night & I love your writing!

Pairing: Anti-Hero! and Gender Neutral! Reader x Tim Drake/Red Robin

Prompts: ϐ1: "“Hmmm, what if-” “Oh no, don’t you start that sentence, don’t you dare make that face." ϐ3: "Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens." ϐ8: "FINALLY! Someone who gets me!” “They literally just breathed.” “It was a sigh and fuck you.” ϐ15: "Are you fucking kidding me?” “No, not in the slightest” ϐ17: "She is my favorite sister.” “I’m not even your sister.” “Not yet.” ϐ19: “Are you insane?” “Most likely.” ϐ21: “You’re late.” “You see I would have been on time, but I was kinda keen on not dying.” ϐ25: “You, my friend, are going down a very dark path.” “Well, the light is broken.” ϐ26: “Get the fuck off of my car.” “Say please.” “Please get your fucking ass off of my fucking car” “that’s not very nice” “I’m done.” ϐ28: “And here I was thinking you were dead.” “As if death could be so lucky to be blessed with my presence.” ϐ31: “IS THAT A KITTY!” “Be quiet, we are supposed to observe and report!” “But the kitty…” ϐ32: “Shock me,” “I would but I’m afraid it’d kill you, old man.” ϐ35: “You know it’s very nice to be wanted.” “NOT BY THE FUCKING FBI DAMN IT!” ✢23: “Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” ☙1: “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” ☙27: “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.” ☙34: “Damn you smell really nice.”

Content: Cursing, fluff, antics and Batfamily shenanigans. (This is technically what you asked for but also not. I just couldn't help myself with the chaotic batfam scenario sorry if this isn't what you were expecting!"

Word Count: 2,132

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is complicated, especially since people are so bizarre. They have the capability for good and, unfortunately, for evil. And evil tended to rein from what you had seen in life.

It was part of the reason why you decided to become a vigilante of sorts. Part of the reason why you went out in the middle of the night and fought for justice for those who couldn't fight back.

Batman and the rest of the bats wouldn't do what it takes to keep the people of Gotham safe. The vulnerable people of Gotham, the working girls, boys and in-betweens... the people who don't follow the social norms with gender and career.

You chose to help others in a way that the bats couldn't. Killing of course wasn't something you did, that would defeat your purpose. These people- how could you even call them people? These scum, needed to be taught a lesson. And you would make sure it got through, even if it meant you ended up with some bruises and broken bones as well.

This, of course, put you on the big bat's bad side. He didn't see you as an enemy, but he certainly didn't like your actions. However, this did not apply to all of the bats.

"You're late." He sighed.

Rolling your eyes, you tilted your head back. Shrugging you smiled at him lazily.

“You see I would have been on time, but I was kinda keen on not dying.”

He turned to you and a wicked smile slid onto your face. Even with his mask on you could see his seething glare. Rolling off of the heating unit, you flipped to land on your feet before walking towards him.

"Come on Red, can't you take a joke?"

Red Robin did not reply, and you sighed. Maybe you should have tried to take this more seriously. After all he wanted you to officially meet the rest of the bats.

"Alright," You began, "I'm sorry."

Red Robin sighed; eyes narrowed as he looked you over before shaking his head.

"Are you insane?"

Instantly speaking before he could continue, "Most likely?"

He laughed slightly and you bounced a bit before speaking once again, “Hmmm, what if-”

“Oh no, don’t you start that sentence, don’t you dare make that face."

Hopping closer to him you leaned in and opened you mouth to say something, noting the slowly appearing smile on his face. Before opening your mouth, however you took a breath in, and words spilled from you.

"Damn, you smell nice."

He paused for a moment, and you met his gaze before smiling at him and leaning in even more. It hadn't been long since your friendship had officially morphed into something more and every little since of affection seemed to make Red Robin- Tim, it made him nervous.

“I honestly," You began looking at him a mischievous smile on your face, "don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.”

He took a step back and you looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong Red? You want me to meet them because we're together, right?"

He didn't reply, in fact he looked away from you and you paused. All jokes aside you did love him. You did care about what he said and how he felt. It hurt a bit, him ignoring your question.

"Or" You began letting your mind speak before you thought it through, "do you want to know how they seem me before you decided how you feel?"

He paused again and you sighed, you knew he didn't always know what to say to your antics and fears.

"Please tell me that I'm wrong, Red. I-i want you to reassure me. Say things- things like... I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”

He finally looked to you and nodded slowly. Clearing his throat, he took a step towards you, and you smiled.

"I do, I do. I'm- I'm just-"

"Nervous?" You asked watching as his hands fluttered and his body twitched.

"Yeah."

Moving so there was no space between you, you leaned against him.

"It's okay, I get it. If things don't go well, you can just say it's your rebellious phase."

Tim laughed and you smiled at him, grabbing onto his arm you began pulling him across the roof top.

"Come on lover boy, we've got somewhere we need to be."

It did not take long for the two of you to arrive at the vast estate of the Wayne family. Nor did it take long for you to reach the front door. Opening it, that was another matter though. Voices seemed to blast from within and you had to bite your lip to keep your composure.

"Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens!" A voice yelled.

"As if you can do anything Thomas!" A younger voice replied, and you almost turned to Tim who sighed before yanking on the doorknob.

You peeked your head into the manor to see dimly lit rooms and straight ahead a tv screen blazing. Wandering in you found two boys sprawled across the couch just in front of the tv.

“Get the fuck off of my car.” The young Wayne boy, Damian remarked.

A controller pinned in his hands as he glared at another boy.

“Say please.” The other remarked and you recalled his name, Duke.

Damian glared before seething, “Please get your fucking ass off of my fucking car.”

“That’s not very nice.”

Throwing the controller down, Damian shook his head scowling, “I’m done.”

"Where on earth did Robin hear that language?" You snorted.

"Jason probably," Tim sighed.

There was silence before a voice shouted in reply sending you into a pearl of giggles.

"You're one to talk pretender!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he gestured to the boys in front of the two of you.

"These are some of my family members. Duke is a daylighter so you probably haven't seen much of him, and you already know that Damian is Robin."

Duke looked up before blinking a few times, you smiled and waved, and Duke's face went blank as he waved back. Damian raised his head for a second spotting you and scoffing.

"Hello, L/N. Still wasting your time with Drake I see."

Tim's hands were on your make moving you towards the kitchen as your jaw dropped at Damian's comment. Clearly, he did not want to deal with his younger sibling today.

Tim pushed the kitchen door open and sitting on the counter a carton settled in her lap was an unfamiliar girl. She blinked before smiling upon noticing the two of you.

'Hi' She signed, and you tilted your head.

"This is Cass, you probably know her as Black Bat though."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head as you looked to Tim your jaw dropping. Her? Black Bat? Wow. You had been dying to meet her.

"Wow," You breathed out stepping forwards, "Uh Hi! I'm Y/n. Woah, yeah uhm sorry. I've just heard a lot about you and- and I'm a big fan."

Cass blinked; her pale cheeks being tinted with the slightest pink as she tucked her hair behind her ear hiding part of it from view. Suddenly, she quickly began signing and you shook your head trying to keep up but being unable to.

"Huh, yeah. You're right Cass. I should show them the cave." Tim muttered, he then looked to you and weakly smiled, "Do you want to see the bat cave?"

You nodded rapidly. While you wanted to stay and talk with Cass, you doubted you'd be able to keep up an actual conversation and you really didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.

"Alright, this way. And just down the stairs."

“IS THAT A KITTY!” Spoiler's voice echoed through the comms.

“Be quiet," Batwing hissed "we are supposed to observe and report!”

“But the kitty…”

A sense of surprise raced over you. You really didn't expect to hear things like that. You were almost certain that patrols were serious and yet, here was Spoiler surprising you. Continuing your descent, you made it to the bottom of the stairs to find an unmasked Batman at the computer with a civilian Red Hood behind him waving his hands.

"Shock me." Bat- no Bruce sighed.

"I would but I'm afraid it'd kill you, old man." Red Hood snorted.

You laughed and he turned to you before laughing as well, “And here I was thinking you were dead.”

“As if death could be so lucky to be blessed with my presence.”

Bruce ignored the two of you, eyes locked on the screen and Red Hood- no Jason, looked at you.

“Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” He said reaching his fist out, "right?"

"If anyone's like a villain between the two of you it's gotta be Y/N." Bruce mumbled.

"What? Why? I was a drug lord and killed tons of people." Jason questioned his nosed scrunched up in confusion.

"They castrated a man in broad daylight," Was Oracle's calm response that echoed through the cave cleaving it into silence. A smile nearly jumped onto Jason's face as he turned to you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No," Tim sighed, "not in the slightest.”

"You castrated a man?"

Heat flushed your cheeks, and you waved your hands spitting out a defense, "He was using his dick for bad things! He deserved it."

"It was more than one, and you are now wanted." Bruce Wayne sighed rubbing his temples.

Your reply was instant, “You know it’s very nice to be wanted.”

“NOT BY THE FUCKING FBI DAMN IT!” Tim bellowed turning towards you his eyes wide.

A sheepish grin was on your face as you batted your eyes at him, and Tim let out a groan. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the stairs.

"I think we're done with the Batcave."

You sighed before scowling and moving towards the stairs. However, before you could even raise your foot to the first step you heard Bruce Wayne's booming voice.

"It was nice to meet you Y/N. I hope you keep making Tim happy."

Looking over your shoulder you smiled brightly, meeting the bat's face before nodding.

"Oh, trust me. I will."

Jason burst into a fit of laughter and Tim suddenly was pushing against your back and forcing you up the stairs. You had just made it into the hall when, yet another bat began coming your way.

“You, my friend, are going down a very dark path.” Harper remarked a phone tucked into the crook of her neck.

“Well, the light is broken.” You heard someone reply and you sighed.

Harper turned to look at you before her eyes lit up, "Gotta go, I'll see you later."

She then abruptly hung up before spinning towards you and Tim. She pointed at you and then at Tim her eyebrows raised. Shaking her head, she smiled brightly.

"FINALLY! Someone who gets me!” Harper exclaimed.

Tim looked to her an eyebrow raised, “They literally just breathed.”

“It was a sigh and fuck you.”

"She is my favorite sister.” You snorted.

Harper looked at you confused, “I’m not even your sister.”

You smiled before turning towards Tim, “Not yet.”

A delighted look appeared on Harper's face as she looked you over before turning towards Tim.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well-" You began a wicked grin on your face.

Tim grabbed your arm and began pulling you towards the door, "I think that's enough for tonight. Bye Harper!"

Harper giggled in reply and Tim continued pulling you towards the door. Only to be stopped by a request from Alfred Pennyworth.

"I do hope that you will bring Mx Y/N for Sunday dinner Master Timothy. It will be a far better setting for them to get acquainted with everyone."

Tim sighed, his head hanging as you held back a laugh. He nodded and half turned towards Alfred with his hand weakly waving.

"Of course."

"Goodbye Alfred!" You shouted causing the butler to turn towards you a small smile on his face.

"Farewell Mx Y/N. I do hope you have an enjoyable rest of your evening!"

You continued to wave as Tim pulled you out the door. Finally, the door closed, and Tim let out a haggard sigh.

"So," You began causing him to look at you, "Sunday dinner? I'm pretty sure I didn't get to meet everyone after all."

Tim closed his eyes before pressing his hand to his face, "Damn it."

Another giggle escaped you and you grabbed onto his arm patting it slightly before shaking your head a smile stretched across your face.

"Damn it!" He said again and you laughed.

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @masset-fotia @thomasbeloved @sskai @krswrites

[genderfluidkai]

Misako is a good mother and i will die on this hill

I am stupidly passionate over little lego people, so I am compiling a list of reasons as to why Misako’s actions are understandable and to show that the logic some people use to call her a bad mother is maybe just a little silly. putting it under a read more though bc i am writing so goddamn much

Point number 1: leaving Lloyd at Darkley’s

Most points I see about this is people saying “well why didn’t she leave him with Wu” which there are MULTIPLE reasons for.

1. He had just banished Garmadon, yknow, Misako’s husband. While it was on accident, Misako likely would not feel comfortable leaving her son with Wu

2. Morro. Now, we don’t know when exactly Wu took Morro in, as we’re never given an exact timeframe, however I would put it somewhere between the FSM’s death and a little while before Garmadon’s banishment. Misako full well could have bore witness to what happened with Morro, or could’ve been told about it. Misako is thus very reasonable in not wanting to leave her infant son, the actual Green Ninja, with Wu, as for all she knew, the moment Wu figured it out he would start training Lloyd. She would not want Lloyd to miss out on his childhood while possibly also becoming a self-important prick with a massive ego (bc for how much I love Morro, I can admit that that’s what he became due to the whole Green Ninja thing).

3. If Wu DID realise Lloyd was the green ninja, and then start to train him, it’d mean Misako leaving Lloyd in the first place would have been for nothing. Misako was trying to prevent the prophecy, not speed it up.

And then it comes to Darkley’s itself, and the fact that there are multiple reasons leaving Lloyd there would have been a good option in Misako’s eyes

1. It is a school for future villains. It was likely the ONE PLACE Lloyd could go where he wouldn’t be ostracised by his peers like we see him being in the Ninjago movie, especially because we can guess that Garmadon had a reputation for being evil PRIOR to his banishment, as when the villagers of Jamanakai think Lloyd is saying he’s Lord Garmadon, they’re terrified of him, until they see him and realise he’s Lord Garmadon’s like, 10 year old son. Darkley’s was the one place being the son of Lord Garmadon would HELP HIM

2. She had no way of knowing Lloyd would get mistreated by other students. How was she supposed to anticipate Brad putting fire ants in Lloyd’s bed years before it happened? Also, she had no way of knowing the school itself would mistreat him. She likely wasn’t told he was kicked out/ran away from Darkley’s, or wasn’t given the time to come find/collect him, because she very much would have the common sense to know there’s no one else to look after him

3. For all she knew, Garmadon was the Dark Lord in the prophecy. She had no idea it actually meant the Overlord. She could’ve thought that if Lloyd looked up to his father and wanted to be on his side, and neither of them wanted to fight each other, it could help to stall the prophecy.

And then, we get to the fact that we don’t really see her make things up to Lloyd about the whole “abandoning him at an evil boarding school thing”, which is because Ninjago was originally only supposed to be 2 seasons long, and Misako only first appears SEVEN EPISODES IN to season 2. They had no time to give her any character development or show her bonding with Lloyd, because they only had 6 more episodes left after her first appearance.

Since then, it seems the writers have just chosen to imply she has family bonding time with Lloyd off screen. We can see that they now care for each other as a family, so it’s very likely that she DOES try to bond with Lloyd but the writers just didn’t want to/couldn’t find a way to fit it into the show itself.

She has made mistakes, yes, but she is trying to make up for them and none of the reasoning behind her mistakes was outright malicious. She wanted to protect her son as much as possible, and keep him from having to fight his own father.

[demonologue]

Can we talk about the dragons some more?

I will be. Forever.

Many have already noted the care and detail that went into the design of each dragon, and I love watching the fall of Emon over and over to see new details each time.

But we also see so much of their personalities in this scene, and I love it so much?

Thordak is there to establish dominance, show his power, and accept worshipers, like a true red. He focuses on property damage (yes, people die, too, but that will happen when you nuke a mountain!) and showing off, because he wants lots of the ants in the city to survive. He needs their terrified adoration. We stan all of his "Is this your king?" speeches as he claims his throne.

Umbrasyl is doing what they've been told to do. As the least powerful of the remaining Conclave members, they are raining death from above but not overdoing it. Thordak has no domain and subjects if they melt it all. Bonus content fight between Umbrasyl and KimAllura. (P.S. they're not dead, guys!) I have a big soft spot for Umbrasyl, and I'm curious how much we will get to see the dynamic between the dragons as the story moves forward. They barely get along, and I hope we get to see them interacting with each other more. Something went down between them after Umbrasyl took over Gatshadow, and I want to know what it is that left the black dragon alone and stranded out there with busted palantiri.

Vorugal, it's been mentioned, we don't see a lot of in the fall of Emon. But that's exactly as it should be. Think about it: Vorugal is an elite hunter. They live a solitary life, always seeking more challenging prey to indulge in their favourite pastime. What is the point of destroying a city of helpless ants to Vorugal? So they go for the most challenging targets first, i.e. Allura. I'm disappointed that we didn't get the iconic shot of Vorugal perched on the side of her tower before they destroy it, but at least Vorugal still destroyed it in this version. Then it's almost like they're searching the city for worthy prey, doing the bare minimum to satisfy Thordak's orders. Of course Vorugal tracks them to Greyskull Keep. VM are worthy targets for the white dragon. I'm sad we didn't get to see Vorugal wrestle Thordak for dominance there. That was such a fantastic scene in campaign. Hopefully we'll get to see the two of them butting heads in a different way later on.

And Raishan, clever little pixie. She's just having fun with it. You see her casually flying around the city, blowing smoke here and there before she eats Scanlan's biggest fan. But she knows what she's doing. She killed Uriel with her first attack, and after that she's pretty much like a cat. What can I do that will satisfy Thordak's command but is the most amusing to me? Playing with VM, for one. She makes sure they know who she is, and that she knows who they are. After that, she's going to do what a green dragon does: be sneaky and infiltrate their keep even before they flee to Whitestone. She was a lot more subtle about it in campaign than she is about it here, but we want new viewers to feel like they've spotted something hidden, too (LARKIN WATCH!). Good job. Raishan was the first to give her name during the attack in the campaign, and of course she gave it to us here in the fall of Emon as well. We stan a queen. You'd better put some respect on her name.

Really looking forward to seeing more of her--and all the dragons--this season. Even if they just do cut-aways to their territory or Pike has dream sequences to show what's going on with them, I'll take it. We deserve more than just their death scenes. They are legendary villains and deserve as much love as the Briarwoods.

[pocketramblr]

Au where Izuku buys a quirk from giran

Like- like Giran gets OfA and Izuku is the one who buys it off him??? There's a hilarious au to be made about that, how Izuku got the money and what he'll do with the quirk after, and I'm sure it's somewhere up there with Anyone in terms of absolute insanity.

Anyway, this is not that au.

1- Giran is a go between- he connects supply and demand. AfO has a supply of quirks, but is hidden in layers of conspiracy. Giran has worked with AfO long enough that AfO doesn't mind giving his people uninteresting quirks, since he trusts their work will eventually come around to help him, and it's nice to get a cash deposit instead of just a promise to spy for you in a decade. Plus, it's another layer when playing dead and hiding from All Might.

2- Izuku finds Giran much easier than he could find AfO. He goes, mostly because he's sure he'll be laughed away, but he's got to make sure getting a quirk is impossible before he gives up his dream of being a hero forever. (All Might told him he couldn't, the slime villain never dropped out of his pocket for round two.) Giran is curious as to why he wants it, and says he'll consider it if he thinks Izuku won't waste whatever quirk he's given. Izuku takes apart a few random quirks Giran mentions, getting pretty analytical, mentions a lot of use in heroics. Giran could use another friend on the hero side, and so offers his deal: Izuku will pay for a quirk, and if he's able to train it and get into UA, he can keep it in exchange for a percentage of his hero salary and loyalty after he's licensed. If he can't, Giran takes the quirk back, and Izuku's out of the money and his dream. Izuku accepts.

3- Izuku is unconscious and blindfolded when he's given the quirk- Giran protects his customers and their identities from each other, after all- and spends the next ten months training it, his body, and mind. Every other week he checks in with Giran. Aldera is all abuzz at Deku suddenly having a quirk to use in gym, but that fades. He eventually takes the exam, and is sure he failed - after explaining it on the phone, Giran laughs and tells him to at least wait for the rejection letter before offering the quirk back. And then: it's not a rejection letter. He had rescue points. He's in. Also, All Might is going to be teaching there. He'd be excited if he wasn't scared. Because he knows All Might's secret and injury, and that's incredibly valuable information. Giran would want to know- anyone would. And Izuku would die before telling them. But he just calls Giran excited to be accepted, and Giran laughs again, says he'll almost miss their check ins but not his reproachful glares for smoking, and wishes him luck until he graduates and can pay back the investment.

4- UA is eventful, and because of that it's a full month before Izuku even sees All Might- he's busy with the third then second years, and also the school's attacked twice. On seeing him, in the hero course uniform, All Might does a double take. He recognizes him, and he's pretty sure that kid is supposed to be quirkless, which means everything is Very Suspicious! To stay calm, he asks Tsukauchi to be at the school the next morning, and pulls Izuku aside before class. He asks Izuku where he got his quirk. Izuku, honestly, says he bought it. He's earnest and says he doesn't mind paying for the chance to become a hero, and gives All Might the details of the deal, everything except Giran's name. After all, Izuku doesn't know his real one. Tsukauchi and All Might are stunned for different but overlapping reasons. Once Izuku connects their questions with the school attacks (After all, buying a quirk is not illegal, he checked first. There aren't laws about what's supposed to be impossible. Which means something else must be wrong.) he's horrified and apologizes, asks if there's anything he can do. If needed, he could be a double agent - he just has to help, somehow.

5- Tsukauchi is horrified because they are not going to ask a fifteen year old without a license to be a double agent. Toshinori is horrified because he's pretty sure that at this point, if they tell Izuku no, he's just going to try to do it on his own anyway. The only way to stop him would be to arrest him, and since Toshinori is feeling a whole lot of self blame for everything here, he wants to avoid that too. So, with varying levels of enthusiasm, they start to hash out a plan...

[jounosparticles]

hellooo uh do you think fukuchi sees himself in the hunting dog members, good or bad? (traits I mean)

oooh this is a really good question!!

this really depends on how fukuchi sees himself. i assume he sees himself as some sort of hero who was forced into a villain role? personally, id regard him as intelligent, brave, strong, strategic, etc.

i also see fukuchi as caring. he really did not seem like he wanted to do the harm but did as was necessary.

as for bad traits, i see fukuchi as conflicted, violent (even if he doesn’t want to be), deceitful, and secretive

i’ll go through each hunting dog one by one.

tachihara

tachihara is very interesting to look at here. his moral greyness and internal conflict between the mafia and the hunting dogs makes looking at his relationship with fukuchi a bit deeper since they both are good people who sometimes side with the bad side.

- tachihara is very loyal. he cares about the hunting dogs AND the mafia. this leads him to some sort of moral greyness since he just seems loyal to people instead of moral organizations. you could argue fukuchi is similar, as he stayed loyal to his plan and was very reluctant to fight his own. this is debatable though, since fukuchi did have to betray the hunting dogs regardless.

- tachihara is strong. fukuchi recognized him as a strong soldier before they fought. he possibly seen himself in tachi there since they both had to face hard challenges for the sake of good.

- tachihara is secretive. he’s great at covering a case and fit in very well during his mafia infiltration. fukuchi could likely see himself in tachihara since really fukuchi has been keeping the secret of the war for 36 years. he’s also good at keeping a facade up.

- tachihara is determined. he is willing to fight and die for what he believes in and for the people he cares about. fukuchi could be similar in this aspect as he is fighting for what he believes is best and sacrificed himself for this.

- tachihara is willing. he does what’s best often with a smile on his face. this reminds me of how young fukuchi used to act, maybe fukuchi sees his younger self in tachi?

- tachihara is willing to work with the ‘bad’ side to do what is right. fukuchi could likely understand this, since he is doing the exact same with the DoA

overall, i feel there are some traits that align between the two. i can see fukuchi seeing his younger self within tachihara, as someone who is bright and determined. he also likely would resonate with tachihara being willing to work with the bad side to achieve good. like how he works with the mafia to protect the agency.

teruko

i’m honestly having a hard time finding too many parallels and similarities between the two. they get along well and clearly care about each other but i believe they are fundamentally very different people.

- teruko is expressive. she’s loud with her emotions and how she feels about things. fukuchi on the surface is similar, acting boisterous and friendly to most people instead of straightforward. however, i don’t see him relating to her in this aspect since their execution of said expressiveness is vastly different.

- teruko is conflicted. she couldn’t decide what was right or wrong when she found out fukuchi’s true plan. i would say she sees herself and her internal turmoil within him here but i don’t see it really vice versa.

overall, i don’t think fukuchi sees himself in teruko very much. they’re fundamentally very different people who seem to have different approaches to their work and interactions. although they get along, i don’t see many similarities between them.

tecchou

these two are very similar in combat-abilities but their personalities are very different. their approaches to achieving their own ideals go against each other a bit.

- tecchou is strong. he is supposed to be the strongest swordsman within the hunting dogs. fukuchi is also an incredibly strong swordsman and likely sees himself within tecchou when it comes to combat purposes.

- tecchou is determined. often, when his mind is set on something he will insist on it. shall i bring up the jouno being missing scene again? fukuchi is also determined, he spent years coming up with a plan and executed it well.

- tecchou is just. he believes in doing what is best for everyone and protecting those who need to be protected. fukuchi’s whole plan was revolving around saving millions of people, and while planning for it he still worked to keep justice at bay. i don’t know if i’d say fukuchi sees himself in tecchou here since tecchou is a very do-good person without harming the innocent however i figured id mention it anyways.

- tecchou is caring. he seems to want what is best for others, fukuchi does the same.

overall, these two clash a lot in personality. they are similar in profession however the way they act contrasts and would probably make it a bit harder for fukuchi to see himself in tecchou. fukuchi could relate to the determined, skilled swordsman that tecchou is but they diverge in other aspects. someone who is morally black-and-white like tecchou is very different and unrelatable to someone who is morally grey such as fukuchi.

jouno

i feel this depends on how you see his interaction with fukuchi before they fight. if you adapt it as fukuchi seeing jouno as evil, fukuchi was incorrectly perceiving jouno as a person and therefore could never truly see himself within him. in contrast, if you adapt it as fukuchi trusting jouno would do good behind his back while pretending to support his actions, i could see some traits that could relate them. (sorry if that last sentence didn’t make sense i’m gonna make an analysis on it soon actually!) regardless i will go over some traits.

- jouno is intelligent. he is very good at reading people and their actions. fukuchi is also good at this, however he uses his sword to send signals to indicate of it.

- jouno is secretive. he’s good at hiding things and being dishonest in order to protect something. fukuchi does similar.

- jouno is violent. he’s willing to harm others and often seems eager to if they’re a criminal. fukuchi might have seen himself in jouno here, as he is also someone willing to be brutal for the sake of good.

- jouno is deceitful. he lies and bluffs a lot to hide the fact that he cares. he openly said right before fighting fukuchi that he would consider switching sides if they were to lose; yet when given the chance he denied and attacked immediately. fukuchi is also deceitful, he lied to the hunting dogs about his plan and likely was not honest with the decay of angels over his plan. him and fyodor have completely different goals yet they worked together.

overall, it really does depend here and i am conflicted as to whether fukuchi sees himself in jouno or not. on one hand, he may have seen jouno as someone who was willing to use force for good and was a good fighter, which fukuchi would likely resonate with. but on the other hand he may have just seen jouno as a sadist who didn’t care about what side he was truly on as long as he had power and likely wouldn’t relate to that.

the hunting dogs as a whole

- the hunting dogs are generally selfless and willing to do anything to serve others. fukuchi also acts like this, he was willing to sacrifice his life in order to protect and unite humanity.

- the hunting dogs are powerful. fukuchi, being the leader likely sees himself in his subordinates as he helped the others. they likely reminded him of his own training in the past.

- the hunting dogs are goal-oriented. they dont stop a mission until it’s completed and never fail. fukuchi was also like this, he worked towards the bigger picture for his plan and was set on it for many years.

in the end, i feel all the hunting dogs have very diverse personalities that make any truly being fully visible within fukuchi impossible. they all share some traits and have a somewhat similar moral code. fukuchi likely sees himself a little in everyone as a result of working with and commanding them, as most people relate and act a bit like those around them; but there is not too much that makes fukuchi see his entire ideal set within a specific person.

thank you for the question!! this was fun to look at :)