Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello!! :D

REQUEST HERE!!

(THOUGH I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WRITE THEM IMMEDIATELY BC HIATUS)

First up, info:

Dandy and Dyle are essentially monokuma in these, so if you hear anything like DANDY&DYLE, or depictions of them as monokuma in executions, thats why!

Ichor is blood, but not tears/saliva. Ichor is also depicted as pink, like in DR.

Black ichor (known as research ichor here) is NOT blood though, and is still black (featured in Rodger's execution)

(i may add more here as time goes on)

Guidelines for requests:

I will NOT do exact recreations of executions from canon DR or fangans.

I will NOT do executions of the dogs (Pebble and Coal) or Toodles. 

I will NOT do any proship-themed executions or anything else like that.

I will DO holiday toons

I will DO crackfic-style executions (im a crack author, what do you think lol)

You can put some ideas and/or notes alongside with your request, or you can just say a toon :)

I might not be able to write some toons' executions though, or may have to alter the request to better fit something I'm able to write, so please do not feel offended or sad if this does happen.

These guidelines may be edited if I so feel that way.

Extra notes:

Sometimes me no write well womp womp (SORRY)

I will also do some toons' executions unprompted because i feel like it lol (personal projects)

(if you have any ideas for a toon already in the queue as a personal project, feel free to comment some ideas anyways, i might just use them ;D)

There will be two queues, the main queue and the back queue. The back queue is for works that I don’t really have the most motivation for at the moment, but may write eventually once I feel like it (not really a specific order). The main queue is, well, the main queue!

CHAPTER ORDER:

1 - literally this

2 - Yatta

3 - Looey

4 - Rodger

5 - Gigi

MAIN QUEUE:

Ultimate Acrobat, Yatta (personal project) (COMPLETE)

Ultimate Clown, Looey (personal project) (COMPLETE)

Ultimate Investigator, Rodger (request) (COMPLETE)

Ultimate Gambler, Gigi (request) (COMPLETE)

[HIATUS]

BACK QUEUE:

Ultimate Fashionista, Glisten (request)

Ultimate (still thinking of the talent atm lol), Cocoa (request)

[HIATUS]

Chapter Text

A trapdoor opens below Yatta’s podium, dropping her into a room, walls painted red with bright yellow stripes and polka dots. A pile of candy laid before Yatta, her face lighting up with delight at the sight; before charging towards it, energetically and hopefully. Yatta jumps into the pile, making the equivalent of a snow angel in the sweets, giggling with excitement. Lying flat, her hand reaches towards a lolly wrapped in a deep red plastic, eager to begin her little sugary feast. Her hand—now possessing a firm grasp on the sweet—pulls the treat towards her mouth.  

A look of mortification and panic suddenly paints itself across Yatta’s face. A large brown rope now tied tight around her torso, jolting her body upwards. Yatta screeches in pain as she’s lifted higher and higher, breathing hoarsely as the rope restricts her ability to breathe.  

‘WELCOME TO THE DANDY&DYLE™ ACROBATICS SHOW!’ a loud, slightly speaker-distorted voice fills the room, drowning out the sounds of Yatta’s struggling. ‘TODAY WE HAVE THE GREAT AND WONDERFUL: YATTA THE PINATA!’ the obnoxious voice continues, as a blinding spotlight is now shone on the suffering pinata.  

‘HUH!?’ Yatta exclaims, before being set down on a tall black pillar, the rope now limp, untying itself from the toon’s waist. A trapeze bar soon drops from the sky in front of her, followed by another lowering across the room. Yatta nods, understanding the objective, before grabbing hold of the bar, stretching her legs and straightening her ribbon tails. The toon then runs across the pillar and jumps, swinging across the area with ease.  

A loud booing noise plagues the room, before the speaker starts up yet again ‘BORING!! IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT?’ The booing grows more intense. Yatta panics, brows furrowed with a guilty look plaguing her face as she desperately thinks of a trick to perform. Swinging back and forth, she finally makes a move: grabbing on to the bar with one hand, she manages to flip herself backwards; now holding onto the bar with her feet, with her tails wrapped for support.  

‘BORINNNGGGG!!’ the speaker’s voice calls out again, the booing in the room growing deafening. Intense stabs of trepidation riddle Yatta yet again, the toon’s heart sinking in shame.  

She sighs, before making a sudden happy expression, a lightbulb going off in her head. She swung herself harder, still dangling by her legs, as her eyes fixated on the second trapeze bar. Yatta flew forwards, flipping and performing tricks airborne, posing and laughing, expecting a riot of cheers in her name. Yet. There were never any cheers. The room was silent, the only sounds being those of Yatta’s laughter and breathing. Her hands now grasped the other bar tightly, panting tiredly.

SNAP!!  

Yatta’s pupils were now pinholes.  

Her face as pale as a ghost, a look of mortification, horror, and dread stitched into every fiber of her look. She was now falling.  

Laughter and cheering fills the air, a deafening symphony of joy and amusement, loud enough to make one’s ears bleed. Plummeting rapidly towards the ground, with the trapeze bar still gripped tightly in her hand, Yatta sobs. Tears trailing themselves across her face before flying upwards, being lost to gravity.  

WHACK!!  

The pinata now laid on the cold wood floor, broken in half, candy and pink ichor gushing violently from her insides. Her eyes still dart across the room, using up the last seconds of her life. The cheering and praise grows violently at the sight of the body.  

‘WELL THAT WAS FUN WASN’T IT?’ the speaker’s distorted voice says again, ‘TIME FOR THE FINAL ACT!’  

Yatta’s still lively eyes look up in horror, before closing tightly, more tears clawing down her face.  

...  

...  

CRASH!!  

...

An anvil now laid where Yatta once was, hot pink ichor and multicolored candy splattered everywhere.  

The spotlight is gone. The room is dark.  

Chapter Text

Restraints, with long silver chains dangling from the cuffs, secure themselves on Looey’s ankles dragging the toon away, Looey desperately grabbing at the floor to escape before being sped backwards through some doors. 

Sitting on cold, dark-brown wood, Looey opens his eyes to observe his surroundings. He was on an elevated platform, surrounded by a large black ring. Brightly coloured canvas, red with long white stripes, coats the outside of the area and acts as walls. The floor (not the platform!) was of sand and dust, with tall metal bleachers surrounding the ring. There were people in the bleachers. Wait. Not people. Thousands of discoloured Dandy and Dyles. They fill the air with silent chatting and snacking, an eyebrow raising sight indeed.

Then, it hit him: 

He was in a circus tent. 

The knowledge of being in a familiar environment painted a smile of relief across the balloon’s face, followed by a sigh. Feeling calm, Looey attempted to stand, what’s the worst that could happen- 

CLANK!  

The toon immediately looked down to the sight of those same cuffs from before (and their respective chains) holding his legs down by the ankles. Looey began sweating, stressed upon the realization of his current situation.  

‘LADYLE S AND GENTLEDANDIES !’ A loud voice calls out. Looey frantically turns his head side to side in a desperate attempt to locate the voice’s owner. Shit. It’s Dandy.  

The chatter from the bleachers silence as the lights dim, before a blindingly strong spotlight shines itself on Dandy. Dandy was wearing a red and black coat, decorated with gold embroidery along its sides, layered upon a fancy white button-up shirt. On his head, a well-sized top hat, with a rainbow-colored ribbon dragging along its rim. He held a microphone in one hand, and a long black gold-accented cane in the other. Looey began to sweat more; the sight of Dandy, all dressed up, brought anxious expressions to the balloon’s face.  

‘Oh boy do we have a show for you today!’ the flower cackles into the microphone, tapping his cane on the dusty floor of the ring in which he stood, the crowd cheering at his actions. ‘Let's see what we can do to this clown!’ Dandy says, another blinding spotlight now shining on Looey’s pedestal. Looey’s breath hitched, his body shaking in fear and suspense. 

Dyle now stood next to Looey on his platform. Dyle wore a similarly coloured white button-up to Dandy, yet, instead of a coat and hat, he sported black suspenders, alongside a huge rainbow polka dotted bow tie. Looey now panicked more, desperately yanking at the restraints on his ankles, lightly sobbing and breathing heavily.  

‘Let’s SPIN THE WHEEL!’ Dandy calls out, as a large colourful wheel lowers itself over Looey’s head. The wheel was divided into sixths, each piece containing an icon. One had a flame-like symbol, another a knife, another just a question mark. Dyle nods at Dandy’s words, pressing a button on his bow tie. Looey hyperventilates, screaming pleas for mercy, filled with anxiety for what may be to come. The wheel soon stops spinning, the needle landing on a bright pink coloured slice. The one with the question mark symbol.  

A sudden look of hope washes across the balloon toon’s face ‘wait... does this mean that I get to esc-’  

BEEP BEEP BEEP  

Sirens blare loudly as the observing crowd cheer in delight, the wheel now retracting back upwards. Looey looks to Dyle happily, assuming the alarms were signaling his release. He was wrong. Dyle now held a large bicycle pump, snickering to himself sinisterly. The balloon’s face was now petrified.  

Looey desperately kicked and struggled against his restraints, but to no avail.  

‘LET’S GET THIS SHOW STARTED!’ Dandy calls out to the audience, the weird bleacher-dwelling clones unanimously praising and cheering. 

Dyle shoves the pump’s nozzle into the opening on Looey’s tail, holding it in place with a clamp. The crowd roars with excitement, as Looey screams in desperation. He shuts his eyes tightly, bracing himself for the suffering to come. 

Pump.   

Looey suddenly opens his eyes and looks around, ‘that wasn’t so ba-’ 

Dyle immediately began pumping more frantically, at a speed no toon (besides maybe hyped Yatta) could possibly reach. Looey’s screams of pain and agony drowned out by the laughter and pointing of the audience. Dyle continues pumping. Looey continues screaming. The toon’s body stretching out more every second, tears coating his cheeks. The crowd continues to cheer, and Dandy claps happily.  

Dyle then stops for a moment and the crowd goes silent. The only sounds in the room are those of Looey’s complaints and suffering. His latex (skin?) burning painfully. He looks around, once again with hope in his eyes, praying to himself that he’d be released. 

He was wrong. 

Dyle then began pumping at a rapid pace, faster than most machines could. Looey now inflating far more, far quicker, and with far more pain, screeches out in agony, his body becoming basically useless at its size. The crowd roars louder, laughing harder, yelling more; Looey’s head began to hurt as well. The intensity of the whole situation ripping more tears out from his eyes. His latex (skin) being stressed and strained beyond comprehension, the pressure mere seconds from ending his life. Every limb, every aspect of his body, was distorted and painful. 

Then. 

... 

It stops. 

Looey sighs, feeling some sort of relief. His body still burnt and stung all over, and he was essentially five times his original size, but at least the pumping stopped. The crowd claps and cheers, applauding the sight of the behemoth balloon on the pedestal. Waves of pain continue to shoot across the deformed toon’s surface, like a bushfire, rid of any water. The lights in the tent soon turn on again, those annoying spotlights finally gone as everything returns to normal. 

‘How was that, folks!’ Dandy calls out, tapping his cane on Looey’s pedestal, ‘fun, wasn’t it?’  

A subtle smile works its way on to the clown’s face, he knew he was to survive, despite how much pain he was in; you can always deflate a balloon, of course! 

... 

... 

... 

POP!!  

Looey’s gut rips open, followed by the rest of his body tearing. Ichor spewing from the toon’s ruptures in every direction, coating Dandy, Dyle, and the audience observing. Pieces of the balloon’s latex scattered across the area, scraps of a former living being. The circus was drenched in pink. 

Dandy just laughs. 

Chapter Text

Rodger wakes up to find himself standing on textured metal. Glass walls curved around the point in which the metal seemed to end, towering high above the toon, before stopping to a roof of similarly coloured metal. A wide but short opening protrudes from the silver roof, looming meters above where the magnifying glass stood. Rodger knew where he was. He looked down to his hands, a thick binder titled ‘CASE FILE’ was unknowingly situated in his possession, and he raised his eyebrow in curiosity. He opens the book, the first page empty all but for a large print plastered to the middle, ‘SOLVE THIS CASE TO SURVIVE’ it read. He opened the second page, immediately brought to a graphic image of a pocket watch toon, face shattered open with hot pink leaking from this torso and head, alongside a poorly written paragraph, with handwriting reminiscent of a toddler’s scribbling. Shit, a Dyle clone.  

Suddenly, an alarm blares, the siren pulsating for about a minute, a huge dandy makes its way towards Rodger’s little ‘prison’, before kneeling; Rodger watching through the glass. The loud screeching of a circular valve turning soon distracts Rodger, causing him to jump.

Drip...  

Drip...  

Drip...  

Rodger turns his attention to his arm; three black splatters now stained his shirt. Rodger’s heart sunk, he knew exactly what they were. Ichor suddenly gushes down from the valve above, covering Rodger in black fluid, the file in his hands being destroyed gradually as the text and images begin to smudge. Rodger panics, running to the side of the machine, out from the direct stream of liquid. With his body now hugging tight to the glass wall (opposite the giant valve-turning Dandy) he opens what remains of the file, flipping through the pages for any hints or leads he could get his hands on. The fluid now reached his feet, but Rodger still appeared to remain calm and professional, quickly searching the ruined binder for details. He stops on a page, sighing with relief, there was that same scribble-like handwriting intact.  

The black now reached up to his knees, providing resistance every time he attempted to move his legs. The toon observed the writing carefully, his eye squinting as he tried decoding its messages. The churning noise now grew quicker, as the liquid began pouring down faster, a drastic change from the slow pace of before. Rodger’s pupil shrinks, the ichor now reaching up to his waist, prompting him to try and figure things out faster. The magnifying glass’ eye darts across the page, now with a more rapid pace, but his look now concerns more, clear evidence of his struggles.  

The fluid now reaching to his armpits, Rodger holds the file above his head, continually struggling to understand the typography in front of him. Yet again, the whirring of the valve turning speeds up, ichor now pouring at an insane speed, faster than most waterfalls, immediately engulfing the toon and completely consuming the binder, rendering it useless. Rodger immediately tries swimming to the surface, eventually succeeding in doing so. His face expressed pure horror and shock, his only ticket out of here, his only hope, completely obliterated. The dark ichor continues to rise hurriedly, the toon struggling with all his might to stay afloat, being forced further up towards the roof. Observing the air pocket above him closing hastily, Rodger panics. His arms flail desperately, trying to get one last breath of air before becoming engulfed in the liquid.  

Rodger now sunk.  

Air bubbles work their way up from the silhouette of the magnifying glass toon, but despite the machine being full, the valve continues to turn. The silhouette continues to flail underwater (or well underichor), the number of bubbles rising gradually growing less. Finally, only one bubble floats up from the form, the submerged body was now limp, no longer breathing, no longer resisting.  

The form was now sinking towards the bottom of the machine, but the giant Dandy continued to twist the valve.  

Cracks now appear along the front of the glass, progressively growing deeper with each valve turn.  

Crack...  

Crack...  

SHATTER!!  

The glass breaks open, ichor and shards gushing towards the (no longer valve twisting) Dandy, painting the floor (and huge robotic toon) in a sea of black juice, with a slight tinge of pink.  

Rodger now laid unconscious in front of the machine, limp and lifeless. Glass shards wedged into his body, a pool of pink expanding underneath the black-stained toon, with the damaged binder washed up next to his body.  

Rodger was dead.  

Chapter Text

Gigi stood on a smooth plastic surface, in front of her a large hole in the ground. She reaches into her capsule head, trying to pull something out. It's empty. The gachapon walks towards the hole in the floor curiously, before bending over and peaking her head through. Below her lay hundreds of metal pegs, all coming out from the back wall. It was a room, a tall, peg-filled rectangular prism of a space. Glass on one wall, flashy yellow patterned paper on the other. Gigi thought for a second, questioning if she’d seen a similar setup before, still leaning over the floor’s opening. A fanfare suddenly plays, before a large rubber boxing glove springs out from behind the toon, pushing Gigi into the hole.  

Her body immediately falls, hitting off of one of the pegs, falling towards another. The realisation hit her, she was rushing down a plinko board. Hitting hard on the second peg, Gigi begins to cough up blood. Loud cracks and screams fill the air, her bones fractured and broken more with every peg hit, pink smearing across everything. The gachapon’s transparent head cover shatters against one of the metal rods, the toon now uncontrollably shaking as a result of the injury. More pink gushes out from Gigi, painting her face, body, and surroundings in a further coat of ichor, still falling rapidly, still hitting pegs. Gigi’s eyes are diluted and stuck wide, unresponsive but still alive, her body still convulsing agonizingly as the torment continues.  

She continues to be hit back and forth by the pegs, her body progressively moving farther away from the centre of the board, where at the bottom, a large hole with the words ‘WINNER’ is situated. Instead, the direction in which Gigi was moving towards, there laid two more holes with the words ‘YOU LOSE’ in bold red writing. Under those holes, the shine of metal and the sound of grinding could be observed.  

The peg hitting finally halts, as Gigi, luckily, gets stuck on one of the metal beams, hovering right above one of the holes. Laying on her stomach, bent over the pole, Gigi’s body drips pink down into the metal below. Having finally stopped being ping-ponged by pegs, the toon painfully looks down, eyes still stuck diluted, to realize what awaits her below. It was a large mechanical shredder, with fresh subtle pink stains, a result of the tattered toon’s bleeding. Gigi tries to get up, with hope she could climb up the same pegs she hit on her way down, up to safety, but her body doesn’t move. She’s stuck there, body broken, blood dripping.  

The toon suddenly begins violently shaking again, convulsions caused by the head and spine damage from earlier. Gigi’s body slips off the peg as a result of the uncontrollable movement, her heart sinks, the whirring of the shredder now joined by the crushing and squelching of a body being torn apart by the teeth of the machine. Ichor sprays outwards and floods the shredder, its silver tint now covered by pink gloss.  

Blood and scraps were all that remained of the toon.