#Abandon all Hope Queue Who Enter Here

[lettherebemonsters]

Adam loved being a father. It was.....rewarding. Yeah it had been what he had been made to do, but the moment he saw his kids born, it was like his heart warmed in his chest.

Even watching Melody hatch from her egg while he still held her.....it was something he cherished. Watching his princess break her way into the loving embrace of her Exorcist aunties and her mom and dad.

Adam lifted his head to give Lute a kiss too. Sometimes, you didn't need words to express the love he felt towards his favorite girl. Well, second favorite next to Melody.

🥚 Adam's holding the egg close to him as he motioned for Lute to come closer. A soft smile across his LED mask.

" I can feel them moving."

He moved his hand so she could feel their baby move. Just under the shell....soon ready to meet them.

Lute turned around from what she was doing with a happy expression. She smiled big and ran over as she fell to her knees and gently placed a hand on their egg. Her facial expression was soft as she was feeling their baby move around inside.

“I can’t wait to meet them love”

Her head leaned against his shoulder looking down at their creation. She couldn’t contain her excitement to see how their off spring will turn out to be. Regardless she knew Adam will be a great father.

[lettherebemonsters]

For Adam! What is one thing that you love about him in canon and one thing you dislike about him in canon?

What do you wish to see of him in the newest season? What develops do you wish to happen for him?

LOL I've been saving this one all day because it's gonna be fairly long. XD

What I love about Adam is that he's a dick but so lovable at the same time? I think it's a mix of his design is very round, Alex Brightman bringing that fun goofy quality to him and just Adam being....Adam, I guess.

Like, compared to Valentino, he's never outwardly abusive and never goes out of his way to physically hurt someone UNLESS pushed to it. Plus Lute with him are instant squad goals.

What I don't like about him in canon is how limited he is. I get that the show was crunched by Amazon to have barely enough episodes to do....anything really. And Vivz wanted to get a story out ASAP before she knew there was another season approved. But you can feel it with Adam. We're told ' oh he's so bad OMG so evil' but outside of the Exterminations.....how is he worse than Sir Pentious, who was BRAGGING about murdering people and wanting to enslave half of Pentagram City in the pilot.

Like Adam being an enemy is fine, I get it. But him ONLY being an enemy, since he's literally part of Genesis and a huge part of the overall structure of the Hazbin story just doesn't sit right with me.

What I wish for Adam in season 2 is definitely, well....more Adam. BUT I want him to be treated as not just yet another baddy. Unlike the Vees, Adam actually means something to the backbone of the lore. What the Hell are the vees compared to him? A bunch of punks who are trying to bully kids off the playground when big brother isn't there to stop it.

It's hilarious to think that we're supposed to think the vees are somehow BETTER than Adam even though they're literally just a bunch of whiny abusive pricks that enslave people and even rape them.

Bring Adam back and have him SUFFER. Have him be forced to eat so much crow that he's coughing up feathers by the time he ends up at the hotel. Don't make season 2 all about him but put him in the background and tease him being alive.

Have him shift from an arrogant prick to someone broken, desperate to go home, and Charlie having to swallow her anger at him to help him. Have Adam earn his way home by being forced to heal from the trauma he endured in Eden.

And have Lute and Adam find each other again. And have Lute find redemption in being forced to confront the fact that Adam is a sinner now, and that she can't hurt him. Have her become the Vaggie in her situation....because she fell in love with a sinner.

Hopefully by season 3 Adam would be established as a protagonist or even just an antihero. Kind of like Megamind. Just a guy who does the right thing but makes a big spectacle of it since he is the Dickmaster.

Have Adam get the attention he desperately needs from people who CARE about him. For HIM. Not for WHAT he is....but WHO he is. Have Adam find himself and not be part of an equation anymore.

If this sounds like Vegeta....yeah, basically lean him towards being Vegeta with the chaotic gremlin energy of Loki and Stitch.

[honorablehyde]

@lettherebemonsters

(This is set whenever Hyde finds Mina from where Wade had her captive)

Angst prompt:

“Aren’t you tired of this, too?”

She was beautiful. She always was even when she was like this. Bound and chained. “I mean-Grrah-“ the heavy chains holding Mina to the stone wall snap like shoelaces “don’t get me wrong but do you ever get tired of helping England, being part of the League?” He sniffs for a moment, nostrils flaring in search of that copper scent of blood from the woman. “I-I didn’t come to late did I?” He rumbled, he peers down the length of the stone castle wall as if trying to spot the General who would no doubt show up at some point. “Mina?” He turned back to her,

[lettherebemonsters]

A small, gremlin like dog waddled is towards the angel, his large eyes boring into his as he let out a few huffs, his stubby tail wagging slowly.

" Aww, you're fucking ugly as fuck. But in a cute way. Where's your parents, little guy?"

[lettherebemonsters]

@neatandniffty

Adam was still very nervous around Niffty, but he didn't hate her like he had before. In a weird way, hadn't it been for the psycho maiden and her obsession with murder, Adam wouldn't have been here to do this today.

He would still be Sera's little mistake instead of the First Man.....Adam and not ' the one Sera regretted making.'

Now.....Adam was free. He was with Lute. They had their growing family. He was pursuing his reams of taking up rock performing as his main job instead of slaughterin,g sinners...

He couldn't help but chuckle.

" I know you're gonna keep them safe. Maybe you'll be there to see them hatch too."

[lettherebemonsters]

[meme; Afton] 💄 - Put makeup on my muse.

The huge rabbit very much detested the clown body he was stuck having as his own, but despite that, he sat still as the goddess worked her magic.

His mechanical ear twitched a bit, a fidgeting habit of his.

" How long do I have to keep sitting here?"

[lettherebemonsters]

@unhinged-greed

tbh I hate Mammon BUT JESUS I LOVE HIM SM ?!???

also I have this

I love them

[lettherebemonsters]

“ Only sing. My sister was always better at instruments than me.”

He was a terrifying monster, yet despite looking like a ghoulish mockery of corpse and puppetry….even he still had moments over his human element shining through.

“ Where did you learn to play music like that?”

        “My mother,” she answered, her gaze still lingered on her hands for a moment. When she finally looked at him again, there was a small smile on her lips, but a sadness in her eyes. “She was the most wonderful pianist I’ve ever heard. She could play anything.” Lucy’s words were punctuated by a gentle sigh as her shoulders sagged slightly.

@songbirdsandsugar

He had a horrible relationship with his mother. Though through more his end he had broken her heart, chased her away no matter how many times she had reached out to talk to him.

He hated his mother.....but seeing her love hers.....it was something he wasn’t familiar with outside of memories he had tried to forget.

“......She sounds like a wonderful woman. You were lucky in life to have her.”

[lettherebemonsters]

music game

rules: shuffle your “on repeat” playlist from spotify the music service of your choice and post the first 10 tracks

tagged by: (Nobody lol. I stole this. XD)

Dead in Ditches by Hollywood Undead

The Greatest Show Unearthed by Creature Feature

Feast by BludNymph

Fangirl by Ghost Town

Ascension  by the Boulet Brothers

509 $ICARIO - HITMANE!

Werewolf by Motionless in White

Devil’s Payground by the Riggs

Slasher by Aviators

     10. Scarlet Vow by Aviators

tagging : @disasters-of-dbd, @forestherm1t, @khalaesi, @technicianbunny, @iblewthewhistle, @soulsbetrayed, @mcnomaniametus, @greeneyedfaunus, @superrstardaycare, @adoranoia, @wiredupclown, @unknownxloomis, @rpdbdge, @ask-twins, @dcwnthercbbithcle, @feralreason, @cfgcdsandmcnsters, @wrongarmofthelaw, @apocalypta-secundus, @queenxfchaos, @silvcrignis, @manufactoredxafterxdark, @kingoftheravens, @facinorousfigures, @numquamvincar, @outbreaksurvived, @prettyxlittlexwitch, @jigsawfcrged, @radioactivedadbod, @infinityprincess, @sleepy-quentin, @charmbag, @itscreame, @entitytcken, @funtimes-n-faz-kids, @the-blackened-dove, @fxundingfxther, @muutos, @chrchgrl, @kostenkill, @blot-squisher, @bianfu, @funbonded, @sinners-inc, @trapton, @squidmanalamort, @swineblood, @idolkills, @michaelaftonvariations, @mechanicaldance, @profanecenser, @pumpkinstabs, @ask-the-boogeyman (and whoever wants to do this!)      ✨

[lettherebemonsters]

Night folks!

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[arkiliastuff]

In a Concrete Jungle - Chapter 1 "The Meeting"

Noah Sebastian x OFC (Aurey)

(pictures edited by me. Originals url linked on the pictures.)

A/N : Oh my, I'm back after a long break and work on this fanfic. Took me a while as you can notice, but I'm glad on how the first chapter turned out already. Again this is going to be a long story, so I'm going to take my time by writting it. I hope you'll like this one ! :D Let me know if I've forgot anything and your thoughts about it ! <3

Warnings/Tags : Strangers/Enemies to Lovers trope, violence, blood, post-apocalyptical universe, "no god, no religion" vibe (I don't mean any form of disrespect in any religion), mention of trauma, death, loss, drugs, mental and physical abuse, trust and abandonment issues. (Just in case MDNI please).

Disclaimer : I haven’t read the comic book “Concrete Jungle” written by Noah Sebastian and illustrated by many cover artists such as Nicola Izzo, Jeremy Wilson and many more, so I don’t know much about the lore and the universe. I just got inspired by the song and the few panels of the comic book that I saw about it. The rest is a pure work of my imagination and it’s not related to anything official. Nothing is canonically official. This is totally fanfiction. And so this is how I pictured the world in the song “Concrete Jungle”.

~ The little beans taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @talialovesmiw @lma1986 @cookiesupplier

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━

The four men arrived at a strange building. It was half destroyed but still inhabited. The dark clouds of smoke outside gave a gloomy appearance to it. They saw a lot of old burned cars, with more wires and barbed strings surrounding the whole building, like a barricade or a fortress. Once they parked their car, they got out one by one, slowly, observing their surroundings. Noah and Nicholas were the first ones to cover their nose as they just breathed the heavy air from outside. It smelled like burned gas.

They were carefully being watched by some kind of military guards. Some of them looked like cops, others looked like simple soldiers, with their guns, helmets and respirators. Two other security agents, wearing the same black gear with a bulletproof vest were close to the door of the old building. They were talking to their headset radio, before another man arrived outside. Then, all three walked towards the newcomers, welcoming them.

“Are you the BAD OMENS syndicate ?”

“That’s us.” Jolly spoke.

“I’m Leo. I’ll be your guide here. Follow me, Mister Charles is waiting for you.”

The security guard turned on his heels, heading to the entrance of the building again. Jolly took the lead of the group, followed by Folio and Ruffilo, while Noah closed the queue. His hands in his pockets, he was looking everywhere, paying attention to every detail around him. He looked up and saw a lion symbol in a crescent shape decorating the pediment, proudly. He read “Golden Lion”. Before the short dark brown-haired man could ask anything, the security guard turned around, facing the group.

“Welcome to the Golden Lion’s den.”

The so-called “den” looked bigger from the inside than the outside. The bricks were about to crumble at any second but somehow it managed to stay in place. That didn’t bother at all those who lived here. Once the group entered the building, they couldn’t see a thing. There was a huge darkened hallway barely lightened up, the electricity flickering randomly. The security guard explained to Noah and his friends this floor was hardly occupied by the mafia members and it was only dedicated to training.

“...The first floor is for common places, like the dorms, bathroom and kitchen. The second floor is where the chief’s office is and where the guest rooms are. Plus the rooms of the elite guards. As for the third floor, it’s the boss' personal quarters only with his closest bodyguards” Leo continued to explain before stopping in a caged room. “Let’s take the elevator to go faster.”

There wasn’t any space in the so-called elevator. It was just enough to fit them all five.

“Looks like this place needs some work done” Folio jested, noticing the gravel falling from the ceiling.

But Leo replied calmly, not paying attention to the joke.

“Well, unfortunately we don't always have the time to repair when the Resistance or the other gangs are planning any other attack against us.”

Feeling a bit shameful, Folio didn’t dare to make any other remark and just kept silent.

“The Resistance ?” Nick asked, curious.

“My boss will explain everything to you soon enough.”

The gear sound of the elevator, reaching his destination, brought everyone back to the present. Even though they were all calm, deep down Noah couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious, anticipating the important meeting with one of the richest individuals in the mafia world. They heard few things about the Golden Lion’s achievements, mostly the grand ones. About how they gained so much money after working in different illegal industries, like drugs, weapons auctions and nightclubs. But it didn’t last too long. They had to leave Hell’s Kitchen, their first base, before the police found them. This was the last news they were ever published after that. And somehow they ended up here. In this No Name town. And it seemed like it was a lair for a lot of gangs to continue their business. 

Despite being lost in this flood of thoughts, Noah tried to push his anxiety away, displaying his usual calm and serious expression. He had a lot of questions that were circling in his mind and he hoped he could ask them when the moment came. The security guard guided them to the front door which was lightened inside.

“This is where I must leave. The boss is waiting for you inside. I’ll be going on my daily patrol here, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to look for me and ask. Good luck.”

“Thank you, Leo. Hope to see you soon” Noah spoke, grateful to him.

“See you around, bud’ !” Folio jested to light up the sudden tension and serious mood.

Leo just nodded at them, waving briefly, before walking in the long corridor, checking if everything was normal. Once the sound of his shoes was far enough, the boys entered the room. What they saw next really contrasted with the rest of the building. There were a lot of expensive sofas and leather couches arranged in front of a brown desk. The person who was on the other side of it was a huge sixty-year-old man. On his large fingers, he was wearing golden rings that were decorating his knuckles. Some of them had a lion symbol sculpted on them. Yet, what surprised them the most about this man was his face. A few strands of his grey hair were falling on his forehead, drawing attention to his blue eyes that could see through you, despite being covered by the chubbiness of his cheeks. This man was the perfect mixture of wealth, trickery and disgust. Despite the hideous look of this individual, he had an aura that embodied leadership. You could tell who was in charge here.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to my den. I’m Big Charles or Big C for my friends. Please, have a seat.” He ordered in a low voice.

The four men did as they were told and took place on the burnt brown couch before Big Charles’ desk.

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, BAD OMENS syndicate. I’m glad to see you made it through here. Knowing your presence here fills me with joy.” Big Charles smiled, showing his golden teeth, filling in the void of his dentition.

“We’re honored to hear such great feedback about us, sir. Seems that our reputation precedes us.“ Jolly spoke politely.

“Perhaps you could tell us more about the mission you’ve told us about on the phone, sir? We’re curious to learn more about it.” Noah continued.

“Straight to the point, I see.” Big C chuckled. “Of course. I’m gonna tell you everything you need to know about this mission.” He nodded, intertwining his golden-ringed fingers together, before continuing.

“You see, my gang and I have been facing a difficult situation for a few months. At first, we were handling it thanks to our partners in the city, such as a few minor gangs and some mercenaries. But, we’ve reached a point where even our partnerships have been attacked. And so we don’t have any more resources, like money, weapons and men. I lost so many men during these terrorist attacks. Which is why I called an outside syndicate like you.”

Charles paused, licking his lips to moisten them. He bent over, looking for something in his drawers. He put a whiskey bottle on his desk before turning to his cabinet behind his seat and taking five glasses. Then he poured the liquid into the glasses and handed some of them to the four young men in front of him.

“Have a drink, gentlemen. This one is my favourite ever. You cannot find any better in this dirty town. I have to commission someone from the outside to look for this kind.” Big Charles mumbled. “Anyway, where was I again? Ah yes, the terrorist attacks. They call themselves the "Resistance” or the “Red Sun”. There were a lot of gangs who tried to threaten us, but them...  They are a disease to this town. Although they are less numbered compared to us, they always come back. Like a hungry wolf pack. Or rats. I don’t know how they do that, but one thing I’m sure of is they are desperate and evil souls who only kill and steal people like us. We are among those who are trying to survive. And the worst and annoying thing about them is they always know where to hit to weaken us !” Charles spat, angrily slamming his empty glass against his desk.

“So, in other words, this organization you speak of… The Red Sun or Resistance, are they the ones we have to stop ?” Jolly resumed.

“Precisely, my boy. And the best way to stop them is to find where these rats are hiding, find their leader and bring them to the authorities of The Eye.”

Big C suspended his talking, pouring himself another drink and taking immediately a sip of his whiskey, leaving the four men processing the amount of information they received at once.

“What do you mean by The Eye ?” Nicholas asked quietly, breaking the short silence.

“It’s the ruler of the city. Usually, you can see its tower from the outside but because of the weather and the smoke today, you can barely see its light above. Besides watching over us, the citizens, it protects those who obey them by giving supplies, like food, water, medical kits and recently weapons. A lot of gangs depend on their help and partnership, like mine. And we’re not going to let those resistance steal our resources !” Big C replied.

Noah and his companions just nodded their heads in approval, before he decided to speak.

“So, what are you expecting from us, sir? What do we have to do ?”

Big Charles smiled at the professionalism of those young ones.

“For now, your main mission will be to investigate the Red Sun, finding their base and leader. Once it’s done, their attacks will decrease. In return, your reward will be big, I can promise you that. You’ll receive 3 million dollars and more advantages during our cooperation together. As long as you’re here, my most trustworthy guys will ensure your protection. You’ll also have a place to stay and eat and even have a free pass from the nightclub I own. Depending on how efficient you are, it could be done in a month or two, but it won’t last long either way. Leo will give you every detail you need to know about the rules here and your rooms.” Big C paused once more, drinking his fourth sip of whiskey. 

“Oh and just so you know, if you’re approving these terms you’ll get a contract with me, under The Eye’s orders. Soon they’ll send us someone to supervise you, making you sign the contract and give your new weapons. I’ll tell you when…”

While Big Charles was rambling, the sound of heels clicking on the black-polished tiling resonated in the whole corridor. The woman in black walked so confidently, smoking nonchalantly with her cigarette inside the building. She took one last puff before crushing the stub under her boots and heading to the usual room of the mafia leader. She opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, so casually, as if she owned the place. Then, she gave a smile to the four gentlemen seated on the brown couch and to the sixty-year-old man in front of them.

“Well, Big C, aren’t you going to introduce me to your guests ?” She asked with a raspy voice.

Charles stood up immediately, leaving his beloved and comfortable burgundy armchair to greet the woman dressed in her long black coat respectfully.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come here so early, dear…” He started, then stopped a second when she glared at him through her red sunglasses, before continuing “...dear Supervisor. It’s an honour to see you. Let me introduce you to the four young men here. They just arrived a few hours ago in town. They are called the BAD OMENS.”

The woman in black just nodded at Big C, pretending to be interested in his words. However, the last part caught her attention. She stared even more at the four young men before her.

“Interesting name’s choice.” She noted, “ At least, we can expect some of your victims to tremble in fear.”

“We prefer to not think about it. Ignoring those who are afraid of us, is to avoid having pity in them. But I guess in this kind of job, we can’t help but feel it no matter what.” Jolly spoke calmly.

“Put the feelings aside, darling.” She replied, waving her hand in an irritated manner, “In here, having pity or mercy is useless. It will only make you hesitate. And being hesitant can cost your life. It’s about kill or being killed--”

“And how can we help you, ma’am ?” Noah cut her off, glancing at her with a visible distrust in his dark brown eyes.

With open-wide blue eyes, Charles was about to protest, but the woman in black stopped him with a sign from her gloved hand.

“Fascinating.” She hissed, still with an ominous smile plastered on her face “ I usually encourage any form of audacity, but I must admit this one caught me off guard.”

She went closer to Noah, leaning forward and staring at him with such intensity through her red goggles. The sudden proximity started to make him feel uneasy. The vicious aura of this woman was crushing everyone else in the room. Even Big C felt small compared to her.

“What’s your name, little one ?” She asked.

“Noah.”

“Well, Noah, since it’s your first day here, I’ll let your arrogance slide for this time. But know that I never give second chances when it comes to disrespecting me. Understood?” She warned.

The short brown-haired man simply nodded in silence, trying to remain calm.

“You four will only refer to me as Supervisor, Law or Sir. Is that clear ?”

“Yes, Supervisor.” Noah muttered.

“Good. You’re a quick learner. Maybe you could be a good apprentice for me. I’m looking for a new one, anyway.” She straightened herself, proudly.

Big Charles took this opportunity to talk again.

“Well, Supervisor, since you’re here early, I was wondering if you could register them to The Eye for their contract with the Golden Lion. Also, it would be an honour if you could train them.”

 She turned around, facing Charles, her interest and curiosity caught for real this time.

“Oh? That’s a lot of requests, Charles. You’ll owe me for that” She smiled maliciously “In the meantime, I'll take care of the contract at The Eye’s office. This shouldn’t take too long for the equipment either. As for the training, I’ll take only one apprentice. And I think Noah would be a great candidate.”

“Why just him? Can’t you train us as well? We are a team after all.” Folio protested.

“Dear, I only train those who need discipline. If you want to get stronger, just train there. It would be enough. But if you want to be my apprentice so bad, then let’s make a duel. The last one standing will become my trainee. How does that sound? Do you want to kill your friend?” She replied menacingly.

Folio audibly gulped and took a few steps back, like a scared dog in front of a predator. Clearly, her offer didn’t sound that good anymore.

“Good boy. You know your place.” She said, amused.

Then she turned to her left, facing Noah and not paying any more attention to Folio who also felt uneasy

“We’ll talk about your training once you settle here. For now, I’ll be off to the Eye’s tower. You four should come with me to make yourself register. No worries, Big Charles’ guards and mine will accompany us.”

Reluctantly, the four young men followed the woman in black, barely hearing a goodbye from Charles. Once they were all five outside, a long black limousine was waiting for them. Some guards from the Golden Lion were already around it, watching the surrounding area. A man, wearing a black suit and a black ski mask with strange symbols on it, got out of the car saluting the Supervisor. The man barely whispered a few words to her, before she looked up and saw something shiny being dropped above them.

“Get down !!” She screamed, pushing her interlocutor to the ground.

A hand grenade bounced on the limousine’s roof before exploding, two seconds later. The car blew up, the windows burning out and the blast made the nearest people pop out a few meters away. Noah and his companions covered up their faces, protecting themselves from potential projectiles. They got nothing more than scratches. Yet, some security agents weren’t that lucky. Many of them who were around the car got seriously injured, with bleeding faces and fewer limbs. Noah’s ears were still ringing, hardly hearing anything, and his vision was a bit blurry so he was unsure of what he saw from far away. He noticed what looked like a small silhouette, on a building’s balcony, with a weird respirator mask on. It felt like it was staring at them. At least, it is what he thinks he saw, because, in the blink of an eye, the shadow was gone.

His senses were slowly coming back to him when he felt Nick’s hand on his shoulder, checking up on him.

“You’re okay ?” He asked.

“Yeah... I’m fine” The short brown haired replied “But, what was that ?”

“It was a threat.”

[lettherebemonsters]

@nifft

idk thought ill share my interaction as an Adam with my friend's Niffty

[evilvarric666-archive]

Hey all!

I'm logging out! For at least two weeks, but possibly (likely) (very likely) longer, depending. There's a lot of reasons for this, but the primary ones are that my Very Cool job that I like a lot is taking up a lot of my time right now, and that I really really really want to change the relationship I have with social media, and with my phone in general (read: don't worry, I'm fine, this is a good thing!)

I have a little bit of a queue set up right now, and that will be running while I'm gone. When I do come back it will probably be on a different blog, but I'll post that here so people can find me.

Sorry to be sappy, but this blog, the people who have interacted with me on it, and in general just this little sliver of community I've had here has been really important to me. I don't know how I would've possibly done without this during 2020-2022. It was really great for my mental health, it kept me at least a little together, and made me feel less lonely. And that's why I don't intend to abandon Tumblr altogether, even though I definitely definitely definitely need a break!

(Also, to be clear, I'm specifically taking a Tumblr/social media break, and not as much an internet break in general? So mutuals (any mutual!) are free to ask for my discord, if they don't already have it (I'll log in here occasionally just to check dms, so I'll catch you if you message me there). I've not been very communicative on discord in the past, missing dms, ghosting servers almost as soon as I enter them (sorry) but I'm hoping to change that, and I think it will be easier for me once I've cut back on my opportunities to endlessly scroll. Part of what I mean by "changing my relationship to social media" is that I want to do much less of that (scrolling), and much more actual socializing. So seriously, ask for my other contact info if you even slightly want it! I'll email you if you don't discord! I don't care!)

Anyways! I hope you're all doing really well and that the new year is kind to you, see you soon.

[reversesymmetry]

Okay. Time to address the elephant in the room.

Some of you guys probably followed me for my writing. I have some bad news.

I have no inspiration to write right now. I haven’t for close to two months. I’ve tried everything I know how to do to get myself to put words into paper, but I just…. Can’t. I know I’ve got a couple things in my writing queue and a handful of docs that have 0 updates on them since the beginning of February. I know I’ve said I’ll work on certain things. But for whatever reason, I have no desire, drive, or interest to write right now.

I’ll hopefully get my inspo back this summer when work cools off a bit and after my vacation and the concert in August, but that’s a bit like wishing in one hand and shitting in the other to see which fills up first. I’m really sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone. I promise I’m trying.

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here (just me making excuses and whining and being pathetic under the cut)

I’m just in a shitty headspace. I won’t go into detail or talk about it in depth but I live in the Midwest, in a very red state, and I’m trans and queer and terrified to leave my house every day. We had to take our pride flags down a few months back and it’s just this oppressive weight on my back that won’t go away. If they pass even half of the laws they’re wanting to pass in my state we’re screwed. I can’t afford to leave.

Other than that, I’m just struggling at work and with my writing in general. I hope I’ll get better about it soon. we’re at least getting edibles this weekend so I think that will help my mood at least.

[thelastlonelywriter]

I firmly refuse to believe that Arthur, Leon, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan weren’t that group of kids who are just always in the middle of everything. They had such a range of skill sets they were definitely involved in every mishap that occurred in Camelot during their childhood.