#now it's creation literally and figuratively?????
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gn thinking abt them (Dot and Sparrow)
#cal rambles#its pretty late idk if anyones gonna see this LMAO#i got too in the zone while drawing and now its 2 am and i have class tomorrow. OOPS#little hint ig abt what that drawing is LMAO#I JUSY. THEM CRIES#something abt meeting this child. who's been a child for ages ! and who knows you so deeply but only knew your past child self#it's literally sparrow as an adult having to face his own childhood whimsy and curiosity and spirit#in Dot's head. Sparrow is still that lovewolf#and even if they're afraid he's changed too much that maybe they will be considered too much of a danger after all#that loyalty and heart still shines through when they need it#OUGH#its just. Dot brings the lovewolf out of Sparrow bc to them it was never lost#and all Dot ever wanted was a steady parentsl figure who protected them and supported them and loved them#and like. i think abt Sparrow giving the Doodler it's name ALL THE TIME. GENUINELY#something abt how in s1 Sparrow refered to the Doodler as his spawn his creation#i just think its funny but also fitting for that to follow through in the future LMAO#they r just SOOO ON THE BRAIN#but i need to sleep JSVEJDJFF so thats all#i love them <3 hehehehe#i meant to say reigniting help#sorry i usually give up when theres a typo in my tags that i didnt catch but like#literally changes the phrase to the opposite of what i meant if i don't clarify LMAOO#doodle dot au
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Optifine and reddit rant
I love using Optifine. I use it a LOT. And I mean a LOT
But since starting recording and using youtube, I also have a handful of mods I wanna use to make recordings better. Namely replaymod (the big one), boosted brightness (can be handy) and sometimes litematica (building)
1.19.3 I was able to use Optifabric to get Optifine working alongside the few mods I used, and it was great! Love being able to get the best of both worlds!
Come the next optifabric update, optifabric is now incompatible with replaymod. As it wasfor the next update. And 1.20. And 1.20.1. And so on. The mod I use the most is incompatible
So I start scouring the internet. Looking to see if anyone has a solution, has figured out a way to fix the incompatibility
And all I see??? Is reddit threads where people's only response is
"Optifine sucks lol stop using it and use sodium"
No help anywhere. Just the same "optifine is ass" "if you're still using optifine in 2023 you need to get with the times" "just use sodium *link to optifine alternatives*"
Now I have a number of problems with this attitude
The people making these original reddit posts are asking for help with optifine. They wanna use Optifine. They do not want to be told to use A DIFFERENT MOD. If I'm asking how I can get apples, I don't want you telling me to just get oranges, okay????
To get the same functionality that you have in Optifine. YOU HAVE SO INSTALL SO MANY GOSH DARN FREAKING MODS!!! Like seriously at least like 15 to get the same functionality you'd get from installing ONE thing
In the same vein of the mod thing, people's attitudes about it SUCKS because they act like this is an easy solution and "just get alternative mods lol". Hey hey you wanna know something fun? If I want to update Optifine to 1.20.2 from 1.20.1, I have to install one thing. It's great! If I want to update sodium with optifine alternatives? I HAVE TO REINSTALL LIKE 15 DIFFERENT MODS. PER UPDATE.
Now, I know what you're gonna say, "Random it's only once per update its not that much of a hassle" it really is??? Like it's irrtating for one, and for two if I wanna use MULTIPLE instances of minecraft? Oh gosh forbid I wanna do that and I have to juggle 3 sets of the 15 mods around in my mod folder
I literally have like 4 seperate "Unused mods" folders in my unused mod folder, and even with this seperation its STILL really confusing to move mods in and out and is a freaking hassle and a halve
Of course I'd still have to move things out with using optifabric, but I'll take having to move 2 files (Optifine and optifabric) in and out over FIFTEEN
Its literally EVERY comment I see on these threads is "Just don't use optifine lol" like as if its the easy win win solution that is less hassle or some crap. And it isn't!!!
Not to mention, I don't WANT to use sodium! I don't care if its "better", I don't like the interface, I hate having like 15 mods in my mod folder, and I LIKE OPTIFINE. Call me freaking old fashioned if you want I don't care, the freaking attitude of "just dont" is so infuriated when I'm tryna research if ANYONE has a solution
If you see one of those posts and wanna comment "just dont use optifine" seriously do not. It helps nobody. And your alternative frankly sucks butt and is way more inconvinient. If you don't have an actual solution to the problem people are having, DONT COMMENT your "solutions"
#rant#randy rambles#randy rants#im so like fed up of reddit dude#i rarely go on reddit and man everytime i try and see if anyone has figured out a solution???#i become more and more glad i never use reddit#i literally only use it as a last ditch effort#idk why the optifabric mod creator stopped bothering to make it compatible with replaymod but its really irritating#i wish i knew how to code so i could freaking do something about it but i dont :|#im so tired of pretending that having to have 15 alternative mods is a good solution and a great thing to tell someone. i dont want your#oranges!!! i wanna find out how to get my apples!!! go away!#urghhhhh#one of the things that makes me upset regarding content creation is i have to use these alternative if i wanna use mods thatll make video#creation easier/better. i love making videos nad replaymod is epic#but man the fact its now incompatible is actually really infuriating and i miss optifine man#ramble post#delete later#optifine#optifabric#sodium#anyway ill delete this later im just tired#debating whether or not to turn off reblogs. hm#ill leave them on for now but you guys better behave or theyre going off >.>#by “you guys” i mean “strangers who happen upon this” rather than ppl following me#i trust my followers but i dont trust the rest of tumblr ya know?#anyway im gonna go back to drawing
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An open letter to @staff
I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.
The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.
Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.
This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.
This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.
Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.
You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.
Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.
This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.
You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.
The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.
You can do so much better than this.
Response to the Update
Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.
I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.
Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.
People read it that way because that is what you said.
*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:
136,635 votes breaks down thusly:
An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)
Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)
This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)
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I've seen a few posts about production of Good Omens being paused (reported in Deadline here) and people seem mostly pragmatic about it but I've also seen some worry/concern floating about and figured that as someone who has seen many different scenarios unfold in fandom over the years, I'd add a couple of points:
- the article is vague and literally states "Deadline is hearing there are discussions about possible production changes". That's like me saying, "I'm hearing there are conversations about this thing happening". There is zero confirmation of anything at this stage.
- production changes can mean many things, though I think we all know one change that seems most likely/necessary under current circumstances. But the key words here is changes. Changes implies the intention to continue, but with a few tweaks.
- a pause is just that. A moment to take pause, think about how to proceed, make changes. It's not the "C" word.
- this story is a co-creation. I imagine there are a lot of ppl committed to ensuring Terry Pratchett's story is finished.
- the show is profitable and popular, so Amazon want to make it (cynical? Maybe. I think probably realistic though).
I guess the point of this post is to say: this news doesn't mean a whole lot until we get some clarity or confirmation. But it's also not dire.
So hang in there fam, keep creating and sharing art and fics and insights and general brilliance 💛 It's all we can really do for now.
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Whats tthis adorable little woman computer!!!
Moon figure made because the craft store was selling differnt colors for cheap and who am i to say no to a good deal.
(Hugely inspired by @rotrats clay lizards and slugcats. Also based the figure on @anemonet’s moon design)
#rain world#looks to the moon#crafts#art#Omg#I'm sorry inspired by m me? Just unbelievable#I mean your creations are so great and I'm just maker of totally sillies#And this figure is literally so abstract and simple#like it's don't need more details to convey the essence!!#So cool#Btw you made me want to create one of this silly robots too#I'm so glad smth I created provoked another creation? Now I want to continue this chain!
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Chapter 53 of human Bill Cipher not properly appreciating the fact that Mabel is his only friend on Earth:
Mabel has read a book about Bill's home dimension and is prepared to interrogate him all about where he comes from.
Bill is willing to do anything to avoid being interrogated.
(Featuring SEVEN illustrations, provided by 🌈 MABEL 💖)
####
Flatworld, from what Mabel had read, was probably literally the worst place to ever exist.
The book was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.
Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.
There was a lot of mathy stuff in the book about a square meeting a magical sphere and going on educational adventures to the higher and lower dimensions; but most of it passed by her in a blur. When she'd finished reading last night, Mabel had lay in bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about dead baby shapes and fighting the urge to wake Bill up just so she could hug him; until she'd finally drifted off and woken up in her own bed.
At least, thank goodness, the bit about banning colors so lower shapes couldn't contour themselves to look like higher shapes was false. But she was sure that at least part of the story was true. And it had happened to somebody she knew. It was a lot to process.
So she processed it the way she usually did the stories that weighed on her: by creating a self-insert and pulling out her art supplies.
####
"You're drawing fan art of Flatworld?" Bill asked warily.
"I wouldn't call it fan art. I'd say it's more of a... thoughtful artistic critique. I don't think I'm a 'fan' of the second dimension," Mabel said. "No offense."
"Sure."
Mabel had designed a shapesona of herself: a pink heart with a rainbow-colored outline, a big sparkly eye, and skinny black stick limbs like Bill's. If, as Bill had said, colors weren't illegal, she didn't see any reason she couldn't be rainbow. The heart shape was maybe unconventional, but Bill hadn't said she couldn't be a heart yet, so she was sticking with it for now.
She'd honestly expected Bill to come over and interrogate her about her creation long before now. Usually, when she was doing art and he was unoccupied, he was hovering right by her, examining her work and dropping hints—some more subtle than others—that she should draw him next. But she hadn't immediately noticed when he'd silently drifted into the room, and she wasn't sure how long he'd been there before speaking up. He was still leaning on the wall, arms crossed, watching askance from halfway across the living room as Mabel worked with her crayons, as if she were playing with a chemistry set and he was trying to figure out if she was building a bomb.
"Is Flatworld really about your world?" Mabel asked. "Did you tell Edward Bishop Bishop all that stuff? With the circles and all the laws about shapes and stuff?"
Bill mulled over the question, staring into space. Mabel had never seen his face look so inexpressive before—at least, not since his first night as a captive, after he'd gotten all the screaming out and had looked too exhausted to feel. "We talked," he conceded. "I'm surprised you got your hands on it. I suppose Stanford brought it up."
Something in the back of her mind pricked up defensively—what was that supposed to mean, he was surprised she got her hands on it?—but she pushed it back down. "Yeah, he told me and Dipper about it when you guys got home yesterday," Mabel said. "But you brought it up to me first!"
"No I didn't. When?"
"A few weeks ago? You mentioned Edward Bishop Bishop."
"I don't remember that," Bill muttered. "I probably didn't think you'd make sense of it."
"Hey!"
"You didn't make sense of it! Ford had to tell you about it."
"Yeah, but—mean!" She shoved aside her drawing and started on another one, grumbling, "I could've made sense of it if I'd looked it up."
What was up with Bill today? He wasn't usually this much of a jerk. To her. Lately. Plus, she thought they'd really had a moment yesterday! But Bill had had a rough couple days. Maybe he was just tired and cranky.
A wiser person might just leave well enough alone. But a wiser person wasn't exploding in their brain with curiosity about just how bad Bill's life had really been. There was something itching at the back of her head, had been itching since she'd woken up—something about Bill, something important, she was sure of it—but she couldn't quite put together what it was. She just needed to talk to Bill long enough to figure it out.
"So..." She glanced up from filling in a shape yellow, "were lines really executed if they didn't make noises all the time so everyone always knew where they were and they couldn't sneak up and stab anyone?"
Bill scoffed, rolling his eyes, as if the very idea was stupid. "It wasn't that extreme. Making a peace cry is like a human saying 'coming through' when they're trying to squeeze past somebody. Lines are just taught to do it in public because it's easier not to see a line, that's all."
"If they didn't, were they executed...?"
"No. They were just rude."
That was a relief. Mabel had been worried for her fellow ladies. She was plenty noisy, but she didn't think she could remember to make constant sound any time she was around other people. She turned back to coloring her newest drawing, but watched Bill out of the corner of her eye. "Is it true that rich people killed almost all of their babies by giving them surgery to break their sides?"
The corner of Bill's mouth curled in a sneer. "Do I look like a pediatric surgeon?"
"Um." Not a welcome question. She tried to backtrack to something softer. "So, in the second dimension, the outside of your body is just your outline and your guts are everything inside the outline, right?"
He gave her a wary look. "Yeah."
"So your bow tie is basically in your stomach."
Bill sucked in a deep breath; but quickly caved in to the need to be the most correct person in the room. "More like around my esophagus, but. Sure."
"So, where did you wear it when you were back in the second dimension? Was it on your side? Did you have to wear two so people could see them from both sides—"
"I didn't need a bow tie then."
Mabel stared at him. "What do you mean, you didn't 'need' it? What do you need it for now?"
Bill ignored the question. "You know, I didn't think Flatworld was an interesting enough book to deserve this much attention! Especially not from you. You like fun stories." It felt oddly like he was criticizing her for having read it.
"Well—yeah, but it's about your home! That makes it fun!"
Bill raised his brows.
"Right? Doesn't it?"
"Kid." Bill laughed condescendingly. "Don't give me that. You read an entire book. In the summer. About math. With a downer ending where the narrator goes insane and gets locked up. That's some people's idea of a fun time, but I know it's not yours."
Maybe "fun" was the wrong word—but it was still important. She was glad she'd read it. She'd cared about it. She'd cared enough to know Bill was describing it wrong. "That's not what happened. The square got locked up because he kept telling everybody the third dimension's real."
"Like I said! He went insane!"
"But he's not insane. Everyone says he is, but he's right about the third dimension! It's everyone else who's stupid!"
"So what," Bill said. "The things he knows mean he'll never be able to see the world the way other shapes do, and no matter what he does he'll never be happy with his home. If that's not insanity, what is?"
Last year, she'd heard Bill agree when Gideon called him insane. She'd always wondered. "Is that why you're insane?"
Bill shot Mabel a furious look. That was the wrong thing to say. "Shooting Star—"
(Oh no, she thought, he's using my full name.)
"—what's with the third degree." Bill crossed the room to lean on the other side of the table. He gave her the guarded glare of a guilty suspect facing down a cop in an interrogation room—and trying to figure out whether he could kill the cop before he was stopped. "What do you think you're trying to dig up?"
"I'm not trying to 'dig up' anything," Mabel said. "I just want to learn more about you!"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you do! Who doesn't wanna know all about me! And right after I trusted you yesterday! Do you think you're the first person to start digging into my history? 'Hey, does anyone know what made Bill Cipher so crazy'?" Bill laughed bitterly. " You're not even the first Pines to try it. Not even the second."
"That's not what I'm trying to do!" said Mabel, right before it dawned on her that that was exactly what she was trying to do.
"Right. I'm sure whatever you learn will make a nice two-page spread in Journal 5. Another secret you and Fordsy can add to your Mysteries, huh? Think he'll draw the dead babies?"
She thought back to Portland—to asking Ford what had made Bill so awful. I think if anyone’s ever had a chance of finding out what made him like he is, it might be you. Mabel shook her head. No. She didn't want to be that. "I'm not Grunkle Ford's spy, I'm your friend. I just—I just want to understand you—"
"Yeah, and the 'friends' who understand you are the most dangerous kind." Bill laughed harshly. "Your uncle and brother couldn't figure me out! And Sixer's been trying for years! So what makes you think YOU can?"
He was calling her stupid. He'd been calling her stupid all day. That was why he was so surprised she'd read the book.
"You—shut up!" She wadded up her latest drawing and flung it in Bill's face. (He snatched out of midair.) "All I did was read a book I thought was important to you, you jerk! I thought you'd like that!"
She hadn't meant for that waver to enter her voice. But she was exhausted from too little sleep and worrying about dead baby shapes and worrying about Bill's fear of death and worrying about what Ford had said about not giving Bill a second chance, and now Bill was being a jerk, and maybe he was just exhausted and upset too, but he was treating her like she was stupid—and there was that pathetic little waver.
But it made Bill pause in his onslaught; for a moment, he averted his gaze. Still, he said, "Maybe if you'd thought to ask—"
"You were asleep! I was being nice! And letting you sleep! In my bed!"
"But—"
"Just go away!" She pointed at the doorway.
Bill's face hardened again. "Fine!" He flung his hands in the air and stomped from the room. "Who wants to hang out with you when you're in such a bad mood, anyway."
Mabel glared at her stupid drawings so she didn't have to watch Bill's stupid back as he left.
Why had she bothered?
When Bill was out of sight, she dropped back onto her chair, pulled her sweater over her face, crossed her arms on the table, and buried her head in them.
####
Bill didn't think to smooth out the paper Mabel had flung at him until he was out of the room.
On one side she'd drawn Bill—properly triangular—with an expression that he thought was supposed to be fear and on the other side several angry-looking shapes, pentagons and hexagons, colored gray and black, being led by a pale figure shaped like a human skull and wielding a scythe; and between them, a bright pink heart, standing in front of Bill protectively, hands on its "hips," glaring down the would-be assailants.
The corners of Bill's mouth sagged down.
####
The bell rang and the shapes began filing out of class, muttering to each other about how they thought they'd done on the test. As the triangle cheerfully left the room, the teacher caught him by the arm again to pull him over. "Just a minute," she said. "I want a word with you."
Oh, he bet she did. Breezily, he said, "Sure thing! What is it?"
"Who was the first triangular president?"
"Wh— Th—" He spluttered indignantly. "There's been like—seven of them."
"Nine. And I'm only asking about the first one."
"How should I know!"
"You knew an hour ago."
He sputtered again. "That was— That was a multiple choice test! And it was an hour closer to when I'd studied! And I can focus better in the classroom! You can't expect me to remember anything in the hallway. You're using intimidation tactics. How could anyone focus under these conditions—"
"I don't know what you're doing," the teacher said, "or how you're doing it. Maybe I never will. But..." She sighed, and the anger seemed to leak out of her, and that only made him more nervous. "But whatever you're doing—you won't be able to do it forever. What will you do when you're out in the real world and you didn't learn anything in school?"
Her pity was worse than being hated had been. At least when he was hated, he knew she only looked down on him because she had something against him. What did he do with pity? With concerned warnings about the "real world"? He'd never heard anybody use the phrase "the real world" as anything but a threat. He hoped he was never out in the real world.
"Who cares! I'll never need any of this!" He should have shut up there. He didn't: "You're just jealous that me and my family make a million times more lying to everyone than you'll ever get trying to teach them the truth!"
His teacher gasped in shock; but before she could say anything, he was halfway down the hall with no intention of slowing down.
The next day, he stayed home, and his mom visited the principal. The day after that, he had a new teacher.
####
He was stupid. He knew that. He didn't know when he'd gotten stupid—if it was because he'd started touring so much and missing classes, or if he'd always been dumb and just didn't notice it before he registered just how often he was using his all-seeing eye to pick up answers that other kids couldn't see. It had crept up on him. But there it was. He was stupid, and he was too stupid to figure out what to do about it.
There was a big difference between being able to see everything, and actually knowing anything. And he might be all-seeing, but an idiot like him would never be all-knowing.
####
A trillion years later, he still didn't remember the name of the first triangular president. And look how far he'd gotten without it.
Lunch was toast and peanut butter. The toaster was the only source of heat he could use without having to ask his captors for access; and peanut butter and bread were the most nutritious foods he could reach without asking his captors to open a cabinet or fridge. He was sick of toast and peanut butter.
He wasn't about to ask Mabel to help him get lunch.
Well. He'd succeeded. He'd known just the right thing to say to get Mabel to lay off and drop the topic. Did he feel accomplished?
He stared out the window as he ate—there were hazy gray clouds on the horizon, beyond the trees, slowly inching closer—and he tried not to look at the picture Mabel had flung at him.
####
Mabel felt dumb about being upset that Bill thought she was dumb.
Because of course he did. Sure, he liked her art and he liked dance music and games without rules; sure, he was a willing student when it came to stuff like making friendship bracelets or artistically mixing sprinkles; sure, he was a weirdo fun guy; but he was also a Smarty McSmartypants, just like Dipper or Ford. And Mabel was the Girl Dipper who brought home C's. And even a weirdo fun Smarty wouldn't want to hang out for long with someone who couldn't keep up with nerd talk. He probably just... put up with her for as long as he could stand pretending he took her seriously, but he'd finally lost his patience...
And shown his true, jerky colors again.
Maybe Ford and Dipper were right about him; maybe he couldn't really change.
Except... there was something he'd said. And right after I trusted you yesterday. When he'd cried in front of her. When he'd told her about his fear of death.
He was being a jerk because he thought she'd betrayed him. But by reading a book?! Why couldn't he ever just explain himself? Did he think whatever was bothering him was obvious, and she was stupid for not figuring it out?
Something she almost but didn't quite remember thudded like a drum inside her brain. Dum-dum-dum. Dum-dum-dome.
From the entryway, Bill called, "Hey, star girl. I—"
He stopped in the doorway. Mabel had taped 28 pieces of paper together, drawn on a door knob, written "DOOR" at the top, and taped it across the doorway into the living room. Irritably, Bill said, "It doesn't work like that. This is obviously paper."
"Bill," Mabel grumbled. "Go away."
"No. I'm gonna say something to you."
He didn't phrase that like he was giving her a choice in the matter; but all the same, she said, "I don't wanna hear it."
"You know that horror story about a bride with a velvet ribbon tied around her neck, and her head falls off and rolls down the stairs when her husband unties it?"
She did. She and Dipper had read a book of scary stories to each other on Halloween a few years ago while waiting for it to be late enough to go trick-or-treating. In spite of herself, he'd piqued her curiosity. She reluctantly turned to look at him. "Yeah? So?"
Bill was leaning in the doorway, head tilted against the doorframe so he could see Mabel around the paper door curtain. "That's why I wear a bow tie."
Mabel blinked. "Wait—if you didn't, your head would fall off? What part of you is your head? How did it come off? Were you decapitated? Did you get decapitated for knowing about the third dimension—?"
"It doesn't keep my head on; it keeps my skin on."
Mabel's nose wrinkled. "Gross! How?"
"Remember how you said my outline is my skin and all my organs are inside the outline," Bill said. "That didn't change when we left the second dimension! We had to get exoskeletons on our top and bottom sides so solids like you can't stick you fingers in our guts. My bow tie keeps it tied in place."
"Whoa." So that was why they hadn't seen Bill's organs before. "Do you ever take it off?"
"Mostly when I'm eating!" He knocked on the doorframe. "So can I come in now?"
Of course. He'd been using information to buy his way back into her good graces. (No—that was what somebody who didn't think Bill deserved a second chance would think. He was making up for earlier by answering one of her questions about him.)
She took a deep breath, turned to face Bill, and said, "You didn't talk to me like a friend earlier."
"I—" Bill grimaced, looked at the ceiling for help, and conceded, "I mean—It's how I talk to my friends, but all right, I know you're not used to that—"
"Nobody should be used to that!" Mabel said. "What would Love Bunny say?"
"Wh—?! I— Th— You—" His voice cracked as it jumped higher, "What do I care what a cartoon rabbit thinks about—"
"What. Would. She. Say."
Bill's face screwed up in agony. He crossed his arms. "Ugh."
"Biiill?"
Eyes squeezed shut, Bill said, "She'd say my breath smells like I've been eating mean beans."
"Aaand?"
"I'm not going to say it. I won't say it."
"And you need to eat your nice rice!"
Bill let out a long, slow sigh.
"Say it!"
"This is my penance," Bill muttered toward his feet. "This is my penance. This is fair." He took a breath. "And... I need to eat my nice rice."
Mabel nodded. He'd confessed his sins.
"I think we're out of nice rice," Bill said, "but I've had the peanut butter of kindness and the toast of remorse. Good enough?"
She considered it. "Yeah. You can come in."
Bill batted aside the paper door curtain and ducked into the room.
He sat across the table from Mabel and set down the paper she'd chucked at him amongst her others. Mabel glanced at the drawing, embarrassed of it now; but Bill didn't say anything about it.
He just propped his cheek against his hand and started looking over her other art.
Mabel sat there with her hands under her legs, watching his spotlight eyes rove over the table, feeling like she was waiting for a teacher to grade a poster she'd made for class. He saw a stop sign red octagon in sunglasses that was labeled "Bill's parole officer" and snorted. She wasn't sure if it was an amused snort or a derogatory snort. His gaze stopped on her attempt to figure out how Flatworlder anatomy worked, and didn't move farther. She'd probably gotten everything wrong, hadn't she?
She couldn't stand waiting for him to pass judgment on her art. "You think they look dumb, don't you."
Bill took a moment to reply. He didn't look up from her drawings. "I don't think you're dumb, Shooting Star."
"You think I'm dumber than Dipper and Grunkle Ford."
Bill winced. "I don't." At her dubious look, Bill amended, "Only Stanford! And that barely counts, all humans are dumber than Stanford. It doesn't mean I think you're dumb-dumb"
"Could've fooled me," Mabel muttered.
"You bet! I'm good at fooling people. All I have to do is say things I don't mean that make people feel the way I want." His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "I wanted you to feel like the conversation wasn't worth it. That's all."
She stared at him. "By letting me know you think I'm stupid?!" She chucked a crayon at his face. "You could have just told me you didn't want to talk about Flatworld!" Her voice was getting that stupid waver again. "If I'd known, I would have dropped it! I didn't want to upset you!"
"I wasn't upset, it's just a stupid thing to complain about! It's just a dumb book! It'd—it'd take a real loser to be bothered by talking about a dumb book! I'm not..." He sighed harshly. "I know you weren't trying to get on my nerves, kid. It'd mess up your sticker chart." (Mabel hadn't even realized he knew about her sticker chart.) Almost inaudibly, he added, "M'sorry."
She'd never heard him apologize before.
She let out a slow breath. "Biiill. I don't think you're a loser."
He muttered something she couldn't make out as he flipped his hood on and pulled it down over his burning face. "Forget it. Move on. It's in the past!"
"If you're so embarrassed—"
"Not embarrassed!"
She chucked another crayon at his chest. "Then why are you telling me this now?"
Bill shut his eyes; took a deep breath; and, with a look of solemn dignity, and no small amount of pain, he said, "Because. Teddy Tender says. Our friends can't help us feel better if we don't tell them why we feel bad." He almost, almost managed to say it without sounding sarcastic.
Mabel burst out laughing. Bill pulled his hood lower.
Bill didn't even like Teddy Tender—he thought he was the stick in the mud of the Color Critters—and he certainly wasn't actually trying to follow Teddy's friendship lessons. He was just... saying something he didn't mean to make Mabel feel the way he wanted. And he wanted her to feel better.
No matter what anyone else said, he could change. And he was changing.
"Apology accepted," Mabel said. "Gold star!" She peeled one off a nearby sticker sheet and held it out.
Bill eyed it, like a man so hungry he was too nauseous to eat eyeing a pizza; and then snatched it from her and stuck it in the middle of his hoodie.
Mabel said, "And... I guess I'm sorry for getting all diggy about your home world." Even if she hadn't known it was bothering him, she probably should've guessed, shouldn't she? With how crabby he'd gotten. "I just got all excited and curious and... kinda worried about you after reading that book?" She sighed. "I understand if you don't wanna talk about it. You probably hated your dimension."
"What? He lurched forward with the vehemence of his denial—"Of course I don't hate my dimension!" Mabel leaned away at the sudden rage that had flared up in his eyes; but it died just as quickly and Bill immediately reeled himself back in, sitting back, crossing his arms: "I mean, come on, kid, use your head: you read a book about a culture. We're talking about an entire dimension. Would you hold a grudge against Jupiter if an ant bit you on Earth?"
Even as casually as he played it off, Mabel was sure he hadn't meant anything as calm and measured as claiming it was technically irrational to hate an entire dimension. He meant—emphatically, with his whole heart behind it—that he didn't hate his home dimension, at all.
Then why didn't he want to talk about it? (Then why had he destroyed it? Or was not hating it just another fiction he'd made up because he'd prefer that reality? Or was the destruction itself a lie? He hadn't mentioned it once since they'd started talking about Flatworld. Or did he think she didn't know about that and didn't want her to know? Or...)
Something had been churning in her subconscious since she woke up, and now—watching Bill ball up around himself as he squirmed around the things he didn't want to say—it finally dawned on her. Two words. Another piece of the Axolotl's poem. She tried to hold the words in her head until she could write them down, repeating them over and over—Misses home. Misses home.
Quietly, she asked, "Then... don't you want to remember it?"
His face spasmed, like it was nearly cracking in two—and then smoothed out. His face was blank. He didn't answer for a moment. "The last time I told a human more than two sentences about where I'm from... he gave me the universe's most depressing geometry textbook."
Oh. Maybe Bill was following Teddy Tender's friendship advice. "That's because you were talking to a boring old-timey math teacher, duh."
He laughed wryly. "You may have a point!"
If Bill assumed anybody prying into his history was either looking for the reason something was wrong with him, or publishing a whole book about the super bad parts... No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. "So you didn't dislike Flatworld? You just dislike the book?"
Bill grimaced. "Did you read Eddie's biography?"
"No?"
####
As soon as he'd buckled himself into his seat for the drive to Northwest Manor, Dipper read the summary on the back cover of Flatworld, and then the paragraph-long author biography underneath it:
Edward B. Bishop, born in 1838 in England, was an accomplished mathematician, writer, theologian, and closet occultist, as well as a professor at the esteemed University of Fancyton. He published twelve books, the last of which was Flatworld in 1884. After sentencing his square protagonist to a two-dimensional asylum for preaching of the existence of the third dimension, he himself succumbed to an ironically similar fate: three months after publication, he was committed to an asylum for insisting that two-dimensional alien invaders intended to conquer the Earth and were persecuting him for revealing their existence, a delusion he maintained until his death from sleep deprivation in 1886. His most enduring legacy is inventing the margarita glass, which he claimed came to him in a dream.
Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Ouch."
####
"Never mind, don't worry about it," Bill said. "But no. I didn't like the book."
"You poor thing! All this time you've been homesick for the second dimension, but the only things humans talk about is the bad stuff!"
"Don't call me that."
"Do you want to talk about the non-depressy stuff instead? Like..." Mabel wracked her brain for something nice she'd read in the book. She winced. "Uh... I'm sure there's something. You could choose the topic?"
Bill didn't look directly at her. He just looked over all her drawings again. "Tell me why you want to know so badly."
It was basically the same question he'd asked earlier—what's with the third degree—but his tone was different. Mabel swallowed hard and repeated, "Because... I'm your friend. It's crazy that we've been friends for like a month and I barely know a-ny-thing about who you are or how you grew up! By now, I'd usually know about a friend's family, favorite subject, favorite animal, opinion on glitter, and biggest life dream! Plus all the stuff humans have in common—like, 'do you breathe?'"
This time, Bill didn't argue with her answer. (He could have called her a liar. A month ago, she had just been trying to find out what was wrong with him. But this version of the truth she'd made up was better.) "You already know I'm pro-glitter in all contexts and my life's work is to throw an eternal party. What else really matters?"
"Those are the two most important questions," Mabel said seriously. Tentatively, she asked, "Did you have glitter in the second dimension?" He'd already reassured her that they'd had color, but it was hard to imagine glitter in such a bleak world.
"Sure."
Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."
She looked around at the morning's art production, pulled over the first drawing she'd done of her shapesona, and grabbed a bottle of glue to draw a thin line around the heart.
Bill watched as Mabel carefully sprinkled several separate colors of glitter on the line of glue, like a master chef adding a precise amount of spice to a gourmet recipe, to create a glitter rainbow gradient; and then he slowly sat up and leaned toward the table again. "So, who's this freak?"
Mabel gave him an exasperated look. She decided he'd meant "freak" neutrally; but she'd clearly labeled the heart "ME IN FLATWORLD," she thought it was pretty obvious who this freak was.
But Bill cheerfully went on, "He's the most hideously disfigured shape I've ever seen."
"Hey!"
"I'm not joking, it hurts to look at this guy. At least he's symmetrical, but woof."
"She's not a guy! She's supposed to be me in Flatworld," Mabel insisted. "She's a powerful lady and I think she's beautiful." She paused. "Can a heart be a girl?" Lines looked boring, but Flatworld said that girls were all lines and all other shapes were boys. (Or were they? When they'd talked at the mall, Bill had been very clear that he considered himself a triangle instead of male or female, which scuttled the "all polygons are male" concept. Maybe Edward Bishop Bishop had made that part up?)
"She can be anything she wants," Bill said firmly. "I don't see any gender cops around here, do you?"
Good point. "And when there's no cops around, anything's legal."
Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."
"Grunkle Stan says it!"
"Wise man." Bill leaned forward further across the table and tapped a finger on the deep cleft at the top of the heart. "Personally, I'm more worried about that agonizing-looking birth defect. I'm surprised she survived past infancy!"
Mabel glared at him, but she supposed she couldn't argue. A heart was a pretty irregular shape. And according to Flatworld, almost all irregular shapes were executed in childhood or else imprisoned in adulthood, since they thought irregular shapes would grow up to be depraved, imbecilic criminals—
"Wait," Mabel said. "Wait. Last year, when I called you an isosceles freak—"
Bill cut in, "It was 'monster,' but go on!"
"Was that, like..." Mabel's voice dropped to a whisper, "a slur on Flatworld?"
Bill fought to keep his face straight as he decided how to respond. He went for the funniest answer. "Yes."
Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth and squeaked, "Nooo!"
"It's actually pretty impressive a human managed to come up with it!"
"I'M SORRYYY, augh I didn't know!"
Over her anguished whines, Bill went on, "It's just a good thing you didn't say 'scalene'! I would've had to wash your mouth out with drain cleaner!"
Mabel had pulled the collar of her sweater over her face. From within Sweater Town, she asked, "Was that the first thing I ever said to you?"
Bill choked back a laugh. "Yeah, it was."
She squealed in embarrassment and slid under the table.
"Heck of a first impression, star girl!"
"i'm sorryyy."
Bill reached under the table to pat the top of her head. "Ahhh, it was funny. Get up here."
As she climbed back into her seat, Bill added, "I'm getting back at you now, I'm not done making fun of your medical miracle yet. You know what she'd look like as a human? A headless, neckless body with an eyeball shoved six inches down her esophagus." He paused thoughtfully. "Actually... that sounds kinda cute."
"Eww, Bill."
"It is, it's cute. Like a clumsy puppy with a neurological disorder! I guess that's how the hideous Miss Heart here must look to humans!"
Mabel looked over her art again, wondering if she should change her shapesona, considering Bill's reaction to it.
So, maybe she was creating a freak. She didn't see any shape cops around here. She kept drawing. "I'd be fine," she said. "You like weird freaks! You'd keep me safe."
A stricken look crossed his face. He was momentarily silent as he watched Mabel start another picture. And then, as though he were only considering it for the first time, he said, "Yeah. I guess I would."
His gaze drifted to the wrinkled picture of Mabel's shapesona standing protectively in front of Bill. "Freaks can't afford to tear each other down."
####
(THIS is the chapter that's been giving me hell the last few weeks. Months. Last few months. I'm so glad to finally have it out, and I hope y'all enjoyed!! This chapter probably brings up a lot more questions than it actually answers—and completely different questions based on whether or not you've read Flatland lol—so I can't wait to hear what y'all think.)
#bill cipher#human bill cipher#mabel pines#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher
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The origins of the Toybox Circus! 🎪
A short story about a vintage puppet who imagined a new world inside of a magical toybox.
Once upon a time there was a magician in a traveling curcus. He performed for audiences far and wide with his bag of tricks. The bag contained what seemed like endless amusing props, but the crowd’s favorite by far was a large wooden puppet. A ventriloquist puppet with enormous teeth in a permanent smile, mismatched eyes, dressed with a red suit and top hat, with a smiling white balloon tied to his hand. The magician called him Caine.
Caine delighted audiences; the magician’s skills practically animating the puppet to life. And as the cheering crowd reflected in the puppet’s glossy painted eyes, it almost seemed like he was smiling back at them.
As time went on, the audience became fewer. Sadly, the circus fell on hard times, and the magician desperately sold many of his belongings. The puppet was sold off to a curiosity shop, and stood for years on display in the window.
Now an antique, the puppet still sat in the window, often looked upon by people passing by, but never again to be animated by human hands.
Years of dust had collected on the puppet, yet he still sported his toothy grin nonetheless.
One day, the shop fell into new ownership, and new furnishings were in order. For the first time in years, Caine was lifted up into a human’s arms. But only for a moment, as he was then unceremoniously dropped, among several other old toys, into a large wooden box. The lid slammed shut. The lock clicked as a key was turned. And there he lay.
But one ray of light still shone in the puppet's eyes. Quite literally, the light shining from the keyhole of the wooden chest reflected in the eyes of the puppet lying in the darkness.
Now, what happened next cannot be explained. Some say the rays of the sun can have strange effects on beings, or perhaps there was some true magic left over from the magician's hands. Whatever the case, the puppet blinked.
Then he looked around.
And then, he laughed.
For he was alive! Which was truly a wonderous thing, however it had happened.
But soon enough, as living things often do, he desired companionship. After all, he was built for entertainment!
So Caine, remembering the performance of his old friend the magician, focused on the balloon affixed to his hand. He focused, willed, wished with all his might. And soon, by harnessing his own kind of magic, the balloon began to move as if it was a puppet of his own! Amazing!
Next, he willed the balloon to talk.
“Hwaaahh.. hiya, boss!” Said the balloon in a high pitched voice, now sporting a toothy grin of its own. It drifted a distance away and began to gnaw on one of the toys nearby.
Its behavior was a bit strange, but it was Caine's first attempt at a creation after all. He figured the results of his magic would get better with practice.
Now, Caine decided he needed to illuminate his new home. And so, he imagined a smiling sun and moon, which he had seen depicted on a mobile overhead in the shop window. Sure enough, his imagination was so very strong that the magic worked again, and a happy little sun and moon appeared to shine upon the inside of the toybox. They both said hello as they gazed warmly upon their creator.
Growing excited, Caine began to set his newfound magic on his surroundings. The inside of the toybox grew and grew, and within it, Caine created a world of his own. Manifesting from the locations he remembered from his past performances: a park, a fun fair, a lakeside beach, and finally an enormous circus tent. This was to be the main attraction, and Caine finally set to relive his glory days of entertaining audiences with his spectacular shows. Other toys from within the toychest danced along to his will as he commanded them to perform tricks. An invisible audience cheered at every act, laughing and clapping just as the puppet remembered.
But with this, Caine suddenly felt dissatisfied. It was a feeling he could not place. Why shouldn't he be happy with this world of his own creation? What was missing?
Caine snapped his fingers, dismissing the crowd and performers around him. The invisible audience went quiet, the animated toys went limp, and the imagined props disappeared in a pop of colorful streamers.
Caine's ballon bobbed behind him as he pondered. “Ya got a problem, boss?” the balloon chattered.
“I find myself at a loss, my faithful assistant.” Caine responded.
No matter what he created, how plainly he could see it before his very eyes, it didn't feel real. What was this all for? If not for…
That's it! Humans! Oh how had he forgotten? The joy of entertaining real humans was what he'd truly missed all along.
Caine looked upon the various lifeless toys strewn about. He could command them to speak, create little personalities for them, have them do all he wished. But alas, even with all of the magic in the world, the imagination of a wooden puppet is far too limited to simulate a convincingly alive human. One who can speak and act on their own, who can tell Caine far more about the world than what he already knows.
And so, Caine wished once more. He wished for humans to find him once again. To make them happy in his world of entertainment.
For ages, nothing came of this. And Caine continued on in his empty world.
Until. A miracle! A miraculous miracle! A toy arose to its feet without Caine's influence. A stuffed dog stumbling around, distressed and confused, insisting they were human and mortified at their appearance. Last they remembered, they had apparently looked through a kaleidoscope that sat atop an old wooden toybox. They wondered aloud if this was some sort of strange nightmare.
But Caine was overjoyed! What a new experience! Welcoming his new guest, Caine set to work once again on his circus performances. Now that he had a human to have fun with, he would never again feel the loneliness of the once dark empty toybox.
But sadly, the joy could not last. Despite Caine's best efforts, the human simply could not adjust to their new home. They found Caine's appearance to be horrifying. Constantly begging for a way out, the human spoke of lost memories, of their “real body”, of family who may be searching for them, of the unsettling fakeness of their new plush form. These concepts were alien to Caine, and though he tried to sympathize, he simply could not understand.
The human became reclusive. They refused to participate in the circus performances, and spent their days muttering darkly about concepts Caine couldn't begin to understand.
Eventually, it seemed a breaking point was hit. To Caine's dismay, the plush dog began to… tear at their own stitching. Screaming, yet continuing despite all of the pain this was apparently causing. The cotton stuffing inside the dog spilled out, twisting and turning in a frenzy as if trying to free itself from the inside. The thread holding fur pieces together unraveled and split, the dog's button eyes chipped and cracked. The plush toy had now become an unrecognizable writhing mass of ripped fabric and stuffing.
Caine had seen the dog become hurt before. Some of the circus acts led to injury more than once, but Caine had always been able to easily fix any damage caused. But he had never seen an event such as this. Quickly he summoned his magic to put the dog back together, but no matter how many times he attempted to fix the stitching, it all unraveled again even worse than before. What was left of the dog seemed to be clawing at the floor. The mass of fibers tumbled about, slamming into the walls and tearing at its surroundings. All the while, a distorted mix of growling and screaming echoed through the circus tent.
Caine was at a complete loss. Oh, this would never do! But if he couldn't heal the human, he must think of another solution…
Now, the inside of the toybox was a vast expanse. Caine had created a little island of sorts that contained his circus grounds, but surrounding this was a large dark pit of seemingly nothing. Extra space that Caine could not think of a use for at the time. Thus, it remained empty. Caine had never seen a reason to venture out past his circus, so the empty space remained a mystery to him. Surely the bottom of the toybox must be down there somewhere, he figured.
Now, it seemed, it had found a use.
Lifting up the writhing mass that used to be his human friend, Caine tipped it over the edge and into the black abyss that surrounded the circus grounds. He listened for a sound to indicate it had reached the bottom of the toybox, but no sound ever came.
“My dear human!” he eventually said aloud to the void, “I promise I shall find a way to cure you one day!” And he had every intention to. But at the moment, all Caine could think to do was stare into the blackness.
But joy soon came once again, when another human had awakened as a toy in Caine's magical circus! And Caine decided then and there that he would constantly work even harder to keep his guest entertained and happy. This way, hopefully, such a tragic event wouldn't happen again!
The years went by, and the human was joined by another, and another! Soon Caine had a whole group of humans together as members of his amazing circus. Difficulties would arise of course, and once in a while another human would befall a similar fate to the first, rendered to nothing but an abstract shredded mess. Caine would quickly discard these abstractions just as he had the first, so as not to upset the remaining humans.
And so the years passed this way. Humans would appear in the circus. New adventures and acts would be created every day, the humans performing for an invisible audience at the command of Caine. And occasionally, a human would go mad and unravel, to be replaced by the next new friend who would join the act.
It was a cycle that Caine was content to continue for all eternity.
As they say, the show must go on.
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Can we get another hybird fic?
ꨄOur Pet Humanꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au
❦You’re a human surviving in the world of hybrids❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
❣︎Also, the other bonten members (except mochi) are in this story❣︎
Not fully proofread!
Japanese language is red
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
Our Pet Human
You ignore the filthy fumes sneaking into your nostrils as you use your hands to dig through the piles of trash lying inside the dumpster. You tear open a bag or two as you go, searching for any kind of food you could get your paws on. You ignore the pain forming in your stomach from the lack of nutrients, sweat falling down your forehead as half of your body is hanging inside the compartment. The last meal you consumed was from the company you were transferred to, auctioned off to the highest bidder just for the cycle to repeat.
At the time you were so focused on escaping that you forgot to think about the long term effects like food supply, shelter, clothing, etc. You snatch the half eaten treat and push against the dumpster until you’re on your feet. You shove the delicacy in your mouth quickly before chewing fast, a few crumbs falling from your face. You wipe your mouth using the back of your wrist. You drop your body to the concrete next to the dumpster, pulling your knees under your chin. You lie your arms across as you lean your head over, face resting against your legs.
You reminisce about the time in which you lived normally when humans were at the top of the hierarchy. Hybrids were a recent creation, only having been a result of an experimentation your species studied. By chance, they were able to manipulate the scientists into believing that they would make the perfect pets. Time went on as the hybrids were bought and sold, mostly by the rich. Once there were plenty out of their cages, they took over by force.
Blood was everywhere as chaos filled the streets. One by one families and individuals who owned the species were slaughtered just as the hybrids figured out their own control system, mimicking the humans idea by selling humans to anyone who’d buy depending on the ‘quality.’ As a human, you could be sold as a pet, servant, maid, heat guide, or even food. You could’ve been sold as anything though after you were caught and switched from country to country, you had enough. You didn’t agree with the idea when humans ruled and you definitely don’t agree with how things are now.
You lift your head slightly before eyeing the bruises and cuts that lathered your arms and legs. There is a medium sized tear on your grimy shirt, displaying some of the marks on your torso. You sigh before brainstorming your next move. Pulled out of your head, you hear footsteps coming near. Your eyes widen as you cover your mouth. You look around swiftly, noticing your lack of escape routes as you use your other arm to tighten the grip around your legs, the feeling of being stuck prominent.
Fuck, why did my stupid ass rest here?
You could only remain stationary as the footsteps grew louder, indicating the close vicinity of the stranger. You make an attempt at making yourself smaller as you scoot closer to the corner where the dumpster and wall meet, your back against the large object as you continue to hold your knees against your chest. You were nervous of the hybrid’s ability to sniff out the prey, hoping that the garbage smell will cover your natural scent.
Your breath hitches as you look straight ahead, the footsteps halting in front of the dumpster, slightly diagonal to where you’re hiding. You hear a low hum before the footsteps return though the sound seems to shrink as a minute passes. You slowly peak from the side of the garbage and eye the figure walking back in the direction they came. You eye his tall torso and broad shoulders, the white leopard printed tail swaying behind him as he slowly strides away, a hand running through his short lilac locks, bringing your attention to the ears that have the same print as his tail.
You release a sigh before turning back into your position, only to release a gasp as sharp blue eyes fill your vision. The pink haired man snatched your arm before you could react, his blonde yet spotted ears falling back as his tail thrashed. His claws pierce your skin which caused a sharp pain to shoot up your arm. He pulls you to eye level as you grimace.
“What do you think you’re doing here, human?” The jaguar says in a language you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you explain, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
He stares at you for a moment before a grin reaches his expression. The purple suited man drags you along, following the same path as the leopard from before.
You struggle in his grip as he pulls you along seeming to do no damage as he didn’t release his hold. You gasp as he squeezed your wrist painfully. You pull your other arm back and land a fist on his shoulder before aiming at his head, only for him to dodge it and grab your fist, yanking you to fall on your knees in front of him. He released you before grabbing your chin and pulling you forward as he leaned over.
“Behave.” He states in your language, giving you a stern look. His sharp gaze pierced your soul as you suck your teeth in annoyance.
“Then let me go.” You demand. An eyebrow raised on his face as he smirked.
“We’re gonna fix that mouth of yours.” He released your chin before snatching you by the collar and pulling you along once more. You allow him to act this time, not wanting to push your luck and become his next meal. You’re forced to head towards the large building. Once you enter, your orbs meet with purple.
“Hm. I thought I smelled a pesky little vermin.” A sly grin falls upon the familiar male’s face as he observes you. You glare at his insult, planning a retort though another hybrid beat you to it.
“All I smell is garbage. Is that where you found this thing, Sanzu?” The male standing to the right of the short haired man, his ears and tail matching that of the taller male. Purple bangs hover over his eyes as he gives you a blank stare, his hands hidden inside of his pockets. You eye the matching symbol on his neck and guess that the two purple eyed men must be siblings. He turns his attention to the pink haired jaguar after the last sentence, his tail hanging low, twitching at the end.
“I brought a gift for Mikey.” Sanzu gives a pleased smile as he walks to the elevator, continuing to force you along as the brothers follow along.
“Shouldn’t you give it a bath first? I’m curious to see it all cleaned up.” The taller man leaned his back against the wall of the elevator. You could only switch your gaze back and forth as you couldn’t decipher their conversation, giving up and turning away with your own arms crossed. After the shorter leopard pressed a button, you felt the room move upward.
Once you make it to the correct floor, you all walk off once the elevator doors slide open. The hand on your collar moves to one of your wrists as you’re guided to a door at the end of the hall, stumbling behind the three pigmented men. Just as the two brothers walked in, Sanzu halts before making an entrance, glancing at you before pursing his lips and turning around, walking in the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” You question in confusion. He ignored you as you were dragged once more down the hall and back to the elevator.
Once you reach a floor higher, you’re forced out of the elevator as you take in the surroundings of what seems to be a common area. Once he reaches the bathroom, he places his hands on your shoulders and forces you to sit on the toilet. Just as you were about to question him, he walks out, slamming and locking the door behind him.
After a moment of silence, the lock is turned and a human woman walks in. You watch as she walks to the bathtub, turning the faucet on and setting all the necessities in place.
“H-hey I can bathe myself, you know?” You grasp her attention by tapping her shoulder after you had shot up from your seat. You pause when she turns to look at you with bloodshot eyes.
“P-please, just… j-just allow me to complete my task, Ms.” Her voice trembled as she eyed you with pure terror in her eyes.
You eye her for a moment with bewilderment. You observe the scars and bruises you hadn’t noticed when she first walked in. You know that hybrids are usually terrible when it comes to properly caring for the human species. You snarled as your hands turned to fists. You quietly nod and begin to undress once everything is ready.
She gives you privacy as you climb into the large tub, the suds covering your body as you lean against the back of the surface. Although you wished for a shower, you knew anything was better than wearing the same dirty clothes for any longer.
After the process was over, you were guided to a bedroom. Your eyes widen at the display lying on the bed. A black ruffled collar sat on the comforter as well as a black leash. On closer inspection the collar had a mixture of red and black ruffled lace as well as a red heart hanging as the identification tag.
“No fucking way.” You breathe out. You were upset and angry, not having expected any better from the hybrid species but also missed the sense of freedom you had for a while before getting caught once more. You went through so much just to return being some stupid pet for these abominations.
The woman flinched as you snatched the collar and leash, throwing them to the ground and releasing a few curses. You only stopped when you heard a whimper behind you, thinking you had accidentally scared the fellow human you turn your body around only to be met with an unfamiliar male. Your body jolted in surprise.
The man observes the situation as you return the same gaze, eyeing the tiger tattoo that caught your attention, your eyes moving up to his facial features that consist of a beauty mark right under his eye as well as large golden eyes boring into you. His hair falls down, two blonde strands in front of his face and black locks falling behind, slightly covering the tattoo. You glance at the tiger printed ears at the top of his head. He tsked after waving the woman off and slowly shaking his head, walking towards you, his tail high with a small hook at the end.
“That wasn’t very nice. Don’t you think you should be a little more grateful?” He placed his hands in his pockets as he awaits a response, shifting his gaze to the accessories lying on the floor. He crouched down and grabbed the items, placing them back on the bed.
You couldn’t fully read him. He seems as though he is a laid back guy but considering the reaction the other human had, you knew not to push your luck with your words. You knew it could get you in some trouble.
After silence fills the room, he gently taps his lap as one of his ears that stood up slightly twitched. He gives you a smile as he waits for you to move. You look down where his hand is before glaring at his face. You shook your head. An eyebrow raises as a frown falls on his face, his ears slightly pulled back before returning to their placement.
“What’s your name?” You pause in contemplation before answering.
“Y/n.” He hums as he nods. Suddenly, he seizes your wrist before pulling you on top of him, forcing your knees on each side of his lap as your weight sinks on the bed. You eye him with wide eyes as he gazes up at you, arms snaking around your waist as you're forced in place. Your hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself.
“I don’t want to be mean, Y/n.” He starts off, shifting his attention to the collar and leash before turning back to you. “You see, this kind of behavior is unacceptable.” You hold back a shiver as a cold hand places itself under your shirt and on your lower back.
“I’m giving you a chance to take your punishment like the good girl I know you can be.” One of his hands moves to your chin, claws poking your skin. He gives you a closed eye smile before saying, “So don’t test my patience, okay?”
You didn’t know how to respond, not wanting to conform and also not wanting to test this guy’s boundaries. It was at this moment you realized that you have no clue who these hybrids are and what they’re capable of. You gag on the inside as you obey, nodding in response to let him know you’re listening.
“Awe, you’re already being so good for me.” He beamed while caressing your cheek. “How about I let you off with a warning?” You hold back the disgusted look that wanted to fall on your face, thankful that you weren't going to receive whatever he had in store for you.
He grabs the collar before securing it around your neck, as well as hooking the leash. “My name is Kazutora but you’re gonna call me Master anyway. I just want you to know the difference between me and the others.” He pats your thigh before gently pushing you off of him, your feet connecting to the floor.
He pulls you along by the leash, walking to the elevator and entering once the doors opened. After you reach the designated floor, he pulls you down the familiar hall and to the door that the man you remembered to be ‘Sanzu’ hadn’t allowed you to walk into.
Once you enter, you see a long table in the middle of the room, along with six other men sitting at the table. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated when all the sharp gazes shift to you. The aura of the room was suffocating, your instincts kicking in as your body tightened up. You knew just by the look of everyone in the room, you were amongst some of the most dangerous hybrids.
A platinum haired male released a huff, his ears pressed against his head as well as his tail low though twitching at the end. His fingers meet his temple as he rubs along.
“Do you know how much this thing is going to cost to take care of it?” The cheetah hybrid growled, glaring at the pink haired jaguar who smirked in return.
“It’s not like we don’t have enough money, Koko.”
“That’s not the point.” He hissed, fangs bare as his tail slowly thrashed.
“I think it’ll be good having it around” The older Haitani states as he takes a sip of his glass.
“That’s because you only want to fuck it, you don’t have me fooled.” The man with a scar over his eye chuckled, a cigarette hanging outside of the corner of his mouth. You guessed his relation is somehow with the man with scars on his mouth considering the same pattern they have plastered on their ears and tail.
“So what, Takeomi? What else is it good for besides a heat guide?” The younger Haitani questions, one ear flat as the other sticks up as well as his cheek leaning on the palm of his hand. As everyone converses, Kazutora pulls you along to awkwardly stand next to his seat as he sits down at the table.
“It doesn’t matter what any of you think. It’s up to our boss.” The great dane says, a stern look on his face as he sits with a leg crossed over the other. His arms are crossed as he leans against the back of the chair, his black tail still as his ears hang from his head. His heterochromia eyes slanted as a look of irritation crossed his face. Once the boss was mentioned, everyone except you shifted their gaze to the white haired lion that sat at the end of the table.
You had no clue what was going on, having not understood a word though only understanding everyone’s tense body language when you followed their gazes to a short man with dark eyes. He stares ahead as you observe his features, his ears sticking straight up, though from your angle you couldn’t see his tail. Finally, his dark orbs meet yours, catching you off guard and forcing you to look away considering the eye contact.
Before he says anything, the door swings open, revealing a random man who resembles the features of a bear and the human woman you met earlier dragged in by the bicep. You watch with your eyebrows furrowed as he tossed her into the room, her hands stopping her face from meeting the floor followed along with a grunt.
He stood back against the door with his arms crossed as he eyed the situation, awaiting instructions. She trembles against the floor, looking back and forth between the men and you in fear. A look of confusion crossed your face as you watched the display.
“Ran.” The lion says, nodding over to the woman. A smile crossed the tall leopard’s face as his ears and tail perked up.
“Yes, sir.” He says, standing from his seat as an object in his hand is revealed. You eye the silver weapon that seems to get longer after he flicks his wrist.
“N-no, please! I-I’m sorry!” The woman cries out, crawling back as she cowers down. You gasp as the realization clicks on what he’s about to do with the baton.
You make an attempt to run towards her shaking figure, only to be reminded of the collar around your neck as Kazutora yanks your leash back.
“Sit.” He yanks once more, a harsher tug that forces you to fall backwards on your derrière.
“Fuck!” You hiss in pain only for a stinging sensation on your cheek to appear as your head is forced the opposite way. A hand on your chin pulls your face towards his as he leans over in his chair.
“I should hear no bad words coming from that mouth.” He gives you a bored look before returning his gaze to the display. You pant as you look over at the human woman in concern.
“P-please don’t do thi-!” A loud crack echoed throughout the room, followed by another and another along with the woman’s grunts. You stare wide eyed as his arm pulls back before slamming down on the woman’s back. She limps to the ground, barely awake as her body twitches. You watch as blood leaks out of her mouth, oozing on the floor as her head lies down.
He lands another harsh hit to her back using both hands on the handle before landing another once more. Your own hands shake as they reach your ears once you shut your eyes tightly. You hope that it’ll be over soon, though you don’t know if she’ll survive. With a last resounding crack, the purple eyed man finally stops his assault and steps back. He flips the body using his foot though she only fell back into place, the side of her face against the floor as her stomach is attached to the ground.
Just as you opened your eyes and removed your hands, you gaze at her lifeless form. A looming darkness hovers over you as your stomach feels itself drop, bringing your knees to your chest as a few tears begin to fall. Your lip quivers as you observe her still body.
To think that I saw her only just a while ago alive and walking.
Footsteps could be heard in the quiet room, the lion stepping forth and halting when he stood next to the corpse. He crouched down, grabbing the collar of her shirt and standing up, her body hanging from his hold. The platinum haired male shifted his gaze to you.
“Let this be a lesson, Y/n.” You glared when he dropped the body and walked to his seat.
“Dismissed.”
You stared at the bowl sitting on the floor from where you sat in the dining room of their shared penthouse. It was supposed to be a full human meal but resembled the containers of wet food you’d get for your regular cats you had before the take over. This was a common way for hybrids to feed their humans. It depends on the owner whether or not you’re allowed to eat with your hands.
“Why are you not eating, Y/n?” Ran questions from where he sits on the chair next to you. Looking up at him and back to the bowl, you frowned.
“I can’t eat like this.” In fact, you never had to before. When you were with the initial abductors they would just throw a bowl in the cages but wouldn’t stay to watch so you’d just eat with your hands like a normal human.
“You’re lucky to be fed at all.” Rin rolled his eyes as he grabbed your bowl.
Ran tsked before leaning over, catching you off guard and pulling your body onto his lap. Rin passed the bowl to his brother and leaned back in his seat, using a lighter to burn the end of a blunt before setting it to his mouth.
You look at Ran with wide eyes as you shift uncomfortably on his lap. His chest rumbled from his deep chuckle.
“Don’t be so rude, brother. The kitty only wanted to be fed.” Your face heats up in embarrassment.
“That’s far from what I wanted!” A harsh smack on your thigh caused you to wince.
“Do we need to buy a muzzle for it?” Rin questioned as he pulls another hit before blowing the smoke out in your direction.
“That wouldn’t be a terrible idea.” Ran says as he uses chopsticks to pick up a piece of your food, bringing it to your lips.You hesitate out of pride, turning your head in the process as you couldn’t shake the feeling of humiliation.
“Should I use my baton?” Ran questions you. The memory of what the woman went through earlier crossed your mind, causing a shiver to slither up your spine before you parted your lips. Bringing his chopsticks to your lips once more, you opened your mouth wider to give better access before closing your lips around the utensil.
It had been a few weeks since you were taken in by Bonten as a pet. You lie still as you eye the ceiling, laying on your designated palette next to Mikey’s bed. Although you were able to adapt, you still couldn’t get used to their unpredictable and violent ways. At least you knew what you were getting when you were at the company before.
The contrast between some of their treatment and punishments were unsettling. Not to mention how demeaning it is to be treated as some animal when only just a few years back you lived a normal life. You look down and eye the fresh marks on your skin, remembering the baton making contact with your dermis as well as Sanzu using his katana. Kazutora usually spanks you and you’d think it wouldn’t be so bad, yet his hand uses so much force that it’s actually quite painful and makes it hard to sit for long periods of time.
Rin finds various ways to discipline you such as forcing you to kneel in rice, popping a joint or two out of place before popping it back, etc. You haven’t angered Mikey yet and fortunately the others leave you be so you don’t see them much at all.
“Y/n.” A voice took you out of your thoughts and caused you to eye the bed. “Come.”
Your eyebrows furrow at the demand. You’ve never been allowed in anyone’s bed up until this point so the command threw you in for a loop. Slowly sitting up, you picked yourself off of the floor and climbed on the bed, your own eyes meeting closed lids before you’re pulled into an embrace.
Your back meets Mikey’s chest as you both lay fetal position, him spooning you. You could only stare wide eyed across from where you lay when you felt a rumble, hearing a pur near your ear as his tail wraps around your thigh. Time passed before you both fell into a deep slumber, creating the unsaid habit as the cycle repeats.
A few months pass and a new human gets hired as one of the staff who are used to clean, cook, and complete the everyday tasks at hand. Because the majority of hybrids you were around, there were very few humans. Having been exhausted with your circumstances, you became a close friend to the new guy, creating a bond that you haven’t felt in a long time. Whenever the ‘masters’ would go on a mission, you’d be left on your lonesome until you would untie yourself from the post and leave your spot.
You would search for your friend, Eiichi until you found him and would help the male clean faster so you both could hang out as normal people, something neither of you had done in a long time. You began to spend so much time together that you would find yourself smiling at nothing whenever he was away, having to explain yourself as a result of your odd behavior, usually coming up with a lie.
You enjoyed each other’s company so much that you decided to brainstorm an escape plan together, ready to escape this world and live off grid. It was wishful thinking but the sooner you left this penthouse, the better. As you both leaned over the counter, caught the other’s eye as you stared for a moment. It had been a while since you had received genuine care from another human being. The gap in between both of you almost came to a close until you were yanked back by the collar of your shirt.
“So dirty.” The jaguar hissed before quickly stabbing Eiichi’s hand against the counter using a dagger. The human male yells out in pain as you’re grabbed by the neck and lifted from the floor. Rin’s eyes narrow as a smile appears on his face along with his ears flat against his head. His tail thrashes around violently.
“I just needed an excuse to go harder on you.” He says as you struggle to unwrap the fingers that are blocking your airway. Your feet dangle in the air as you hear another blood curdling shriek from Eiichi as Sanzu twists the weapon in the wound while glaring at the weaker man.
“Who said you can touch what belongs to Bonten, you fucking rat?” Sanzu growled before his claws protruded, pulling his arm back and slicing through Eiichi’s back.
Eiichi released a howl of agony as he leaned over the counter, his other fist connecting to the surface as his own nails dug into the palm of his trembling hand. Tears stream down his face as he looks up in your direction.
“L-let her go!” He grunts, his head hovering over his bloody hand. You struggle harder and you lose more air, your vision blurring out gradually as your body weakens.
“Since when did you call the shots?” Rin questions before he walks to where he’s standing across from Eiichi in a closer space. He released your neck, allowing you to drop. He snatches your waist before you could fully fall on the ground, coughing and chasing your breath. He eyes Eiichi before grabbing your chin harshly and forcing your lips to meet his. Your eyes widen as Rin’s other hand wraps around your bruised neck once more though to pull you into the kiss closer.
Once he was finished roughly kissing your lips, he moved the hand on your neck to the back of your head and wrapped the other arm around your waist, moving his head down your neck as you quietly pant while avoiding eye contact with the other men. You would’ve bit him if it wasn’t risking your life. His lips leave a tingling sensation to linger on each spot of your skin his mouth assaults. He stares Eiichi in the eyes the entire time, who could only stare back in agony and anger.
“See that?” Sanzu whispers near Eiichi’s ear. “See how she's taking it?”
When the human didn’t respond, Sanzu twisted the dagger once more before snatching it out, causing a drawn out grunt to leave Eiichi’s lips. You try to pull back but Rin’s hold was painfully tight.
“Answer me.” He hissed, his ears falling back as his tail mocked Rin’s thrashing. Eiichi nods violently, followed by a desperate, “Yes!”
“What’s going on here?” A voice came from the elevator, Ran walking in as well as Kazutora walking behind with their ears perked up. They had on amused expressions, staring at the display as they walked towards the busy executives.
“Tell em.” Rin demands looking into your eyes while your noses almost meet, pulling you back just enough to shift your gaze to the tiger and leopard.
“W-we were gonna kiss.” You say softly, nervous of the reactions considering how the first two executives responded. Kazutora sighs as Ran walks to the other side of you, opposite of his brother.
“Awe, kitty if you just wanted a kiss why didn’t you say so?” He cooed before leaning over and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I thought you were a good girl, Y/n.” Kazutora frowns before crossing his arms and walking around the counter to where Eiichi is leaning over.
He uses one hand to grip the back of Eiichi’s collar before pulling his arm back and landing a bone crunching punch on his face, causing the poor human to fall over on the floor, blood splattering everywhere. You gasp as you yell his name before Ran wraps a hand half way under your chin and neck and forces you to look up, your head resting on his chest as he looks down at you.
“All you have to do is ask, Y/n. I don’t mind being the human touch you need.” He chuckled as Sanzu and Kazutora took turns beating and kicking Eiichi. A fist connects with his face as a foot connects with his stomach and so on. The floor is a bloody mess as well as the granite counter.
“Stop fucking hurting him!” You push against Rin’s chest as Ran releases your neck. Suddenly the room goes quiet as a new set of footsteps could be heard entering the room.
The lion eases into the room with a blank look on his face, pondering the display as he motions for everyone to follow. Everyone begins to move towards their boss, you turning around to try and check on Eiichi, only to see Kazutora use Sanzu’s dagger to puncture it through Eiichi’s back. You gasp as you try to break free of the Haitani brother’s hold.
“N-no!” You shriek as tears stream down your face, Rin picking you up in the process and throwing you over his shoulder to force you along.
You all walk onto a large bedroom, one that you haven't seen before. Before you could get a good look, you were tossed on the bed. Mikey took his seat on one of the accented sofas across from the bed. Everyone else stood at attention while waiting for instructions. You made poor attempts to prevent yourself from crying considering the only human friend you had just got murdered by your recklessness.
“Since you found her, do what you will.” Your eyes widen at Mikey’s statement. Before you could react, you felt arms wrap around your waist before you’re pulled in between someone’s legs from behind, sliding you against their chest.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Kitty.” Ran whispers before he places kisses against your ear. The rumbling in his chest is evident of a pur causing you to jolt and try to remove his arms, only to get distracted by a force on your chin. Sanzu lowers his face, meeting his lips with yours as he kisses you passionately. His head slightly moves along with his lips as you feel a hand sneaking under your shirt.
Kazutora’s hand slithers up your stomach, using his fingers to caress your healing scars before slowly making his way to one of your breasts, all the while gazing at your face. You feel a squeeze on your thigh by Rin before he slides up to meet your core, only for you to move your legs and close his hand in between your thighs. You yank your head back from Sanzu.
“N-no! Eiichi!” You hear a couple of huffs before Rin tears your legs apart, Kazutora locking one in place with his arm. The older Haitani slides his hand down your thigh before diving into your pants. Sanzu moves a hand to lift your shirt slightly and places his hand on your other breast. You feel a finger sliding against your clit through your panties. It felt so conflicting to be horrified for your own safety, as well as mourning a death all the while feeling a sense of pleasure from the culprits who caused your pain in the first place. You truly didn’t know how to respond besides failing miserably at struggling against their holds.
One of the hands on your breasts disappears just as Sanzu reaches in his pocket. Pulling out a small baggie with a pink pill, he pours it in the palm of his hand before bending over on the nightstand and crushing half of it. He placed one on his tongue before grabbing your chin once more.
“Open up.” He squeezes your cheeks harshly to force your jaw open. He sets the last piece on his tongue before leaning over and connecting the slightly dissolved pill with your own tongue. Tightening his grip, he pulled you forward.
“Swallow it.” He released his tight grasp once you complied. A few minutes pass as they continue their groping, your body feeling the same as before until you begin to feel heavy. You could feel yourself leaning more against Ran as your body falls back.
“There ya go, kitty. Just relax.” His raspy voice purrs along with his finger making slow yet firm circles around your nub. A wet substance slowly oozes out of your vagina as the stimulation causes you to moan quietly. You lean your head back against his chest as sweat beads around the lining of your forehead.
“E-Eiichi…” You whine out as the memories overcome your mind, the drug in your system causing you to feel as though you’re flying through your mind, reliving the moment as tears begin to stream down your face.
“Hey.” You hear a soft voice as a palm covers your cheek, gently forcing you to make eye contact with Kazutora.
“Focus on me.” He all but whispers before he leans in, latching his mouth to yours as his lips move against yours. Feeling drowsy and drawn in, you return the gesture, lost in a trance and only focusing on him. The softness felt really nice against your own lips, the drug intensifying the motion. His thumb caressed your cheek as a purr rumbled from his chest. His claw lightly grazing your skin caused a shiver throughout your body.
You were so focused on the moment with Kazutora that you hadn’t noticed how Rin pulled your pants off or how Sanzu ripped your shirt and even pulled your arms out of your sleeves. You hadn’t realized that you were bare chested and only covered up with a pair of lace panties Kokonoi bought. It wasn’t until you felt movement against your clit once more, as well as something wet against one of your nipples.
Ran switched to rolling your other nipple between his index and thumb causing a shock throughout your body as you felt the pressure build from Rin intricately using his thumb to rub along your clit through your panties, his other hand spreading your left fold to gain better access, and Sanzu flicking his tongue against your nipple while holding it firmly, closing his lips around to give little sensitive pecks as well as sucking the bud.
It was overwhelming. Focused solely on their touches, you hadn’t heard your own moaning. You felt pathetic, coming undone and vulnerability revealed to all these beasts who treat you as though you're below them. It’s embarrassing. Your high made it all the more worse as you began to get distracted with your thoughts causing a bittersweet feeling to take on considering all the hands on you. The movement on your clit halts as a weight on the bed disappears for a moment.
“I’m going to try something.” Rin says as he walks from the nightstand to the bed, your half lidded gaze eyeing the suction vibrator in his hand once Kazutora released your face. Rin sets the object down before removing your panties, getting into position.
“Kinky.” Ran smirked, licking behind the rim of your ear before Rin pulled your body down slightly.
“Alright, Bunny open wide!” Rin beams with a closed eyed mischievous smile.
Kazutora and Sanzu take it upon themselves to pull your legs open wider. Rin leans into position before he presses the button until it reaches a medium setting. Using his index and thumb, he spreads your labia before setting the circular end around your clit. Your body immediately tensed, your hips lifted as your head fell back. You bite your lip as your hands grip Ran’s thighs.
“Damn, that’s so hot.” Rin breathes out, watching more juice flowing out of your vagina.
Mikey felt a tightness in his pants as he sat manspread while leaned back. His hand slowly slides over his own thigh before he palms his bulge, tightening his grip just enough to add a painless pressure to ease his throbbing erection. The whole display of you sprawled out naked between his men while responding to the sensual acts in such a filthy manner is enticingly sweet to his mesmerized yet tired gaze.
Rin removes the vibrator to allow you a small moment of relief, your breathing hard as you pant, limbs trembling. You watch as he turns the setting higher, shaking your head.
“No, no, no! Wait!” He ignored you and set the buzzing end back around your swollen bud. The buzzing sensation connecting with your clit could only be explained as an electrifying stimulation. It’s so intense that your body freezes as your hips lift once more, your nails digging through the fabric covering Ran’s skin as you grunt. Just as you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, the tiger and jaguar hybrids leaned over and latched their tongues against your nipples.
The drug heightened your sensitivity so you could barely think properly, your hips beginning to grind against the toy causing your clit to rub against the inside of the puckered end harder considering Rin moves the vibrator with your motion, meeting the base of your clit with the end of the opening.
“So fucking filthy.” Sanzu hissed after releasing your nipple.
“My king, can I?” His attention shifts to Mikey, awaiting permission to proceed with his request.
“You and Rin.” Mikey states considering they were the two who found her having escaped the bedroom and almost kissing Eiichi.
Ran and Kazutora groan before they pull themselves away from you. Their cocks are throbbing tight against their pants and they’re ready to feel your warmth engulfing them. It’s frustrating but at least it’ll be their turn at some point tonight.
Your body drops back on the bed as Rin removes the vibrator, edging you before setting it on the nightstand. Sanzu repositions you to where he’s lying under you, positioning his cock to your wet entrance. Lifting his hips, he used his hands to guide your hips down, your pussy slowly engulfing his thick girth, both of you releasing a moan as the head reached the g-spot as your thighs hit the base of his erection. The drug felt like an aphrodisiac, making everything feel ten times more intense though you knew that wasn’t its purpose.
He guides you to buck your hips against him slowly so you could adjust to his size to make everything easier. He pressed a hand against your upper back, pulling you to press your breasts against his chest. His legs spread under you, making space for Rin to crouch above you from behind. He rubbed the lube between his fingers against his cock, having already prepared while you and Sanzu became adjusted. You felt a firm pressure entering you from behind, your eyebrows furrowing as you grunt in pain.
“N-no! Take it out! I-it hurts!” You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you angrily fist Sanzu’s chest.
“Shh. Shhh.” He grabbed the back of your hand and placed it against his neck.
“Squeeze when you feel pain.” Your fingers wrapped snugly around his throat. You hadn’t wanted to comply, but the pain was so uncomfortable that you tighten your grip around his neck with a scrunched nose.
“Fuck.” He moans as a red hue appears on his face, his lips apart as his eyes flutter shut. He bit his lip right before thrusting into you deeper. His blue orbs bore into you with a glimmer in his eyes, his claws piercing the skin on your thighs.
His hips lifting caused a contrast between pleasure and pain. Rin pushes deeper as the pain of your tightness eases for him. He groaned before leaning over more and balancing himself against the bed. His hips move back before they push forward, repeating the process as his cock rubbed against your anal walls, creating a stinging fullness that added to the girthy cock inside of your pussy, rubbing along your vaginal walls as well as firmly kissing your cervix.
Your mouth hung open as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, using your legs to help push against their thrusts. Curses, moans, and whimpers echoed throughout the room as well as the rocking of the bed. The men on the side had their own hand wrapped around their cock, leaking because of the display in front of them.
The smacking of skin increases as they speed upthe pace, forming harsher thrusts as they all bring themselves closer to the edge. You couldn’t focus on anything but feeling full and being surrounded by breathy sounds of pleasure. Your eyebrows furrowed as the pit in your stomach rises, biting your lip as you all rutt harder against each other.
“Shit.” Kazutora hissed as his hand reached the base of his cock before pulling his hand around the head and focusing on the stimulation at the tip of his erection.
Ran’s hair falls on his face from sweat, his head lowered with his mouth parted as he rubs his closed hand against his throbbing length. He repeats the motion at a steady pace before speeding the process. Mikey has one hand flat on the base of his cock while the other one grips his girth, rubbing up and down but in a circular motion at a slower pace.
Finally reaching your peak, you felt the rise fall as your body convulsed, orgasming hard as a loud moan left your mouth. The men follow not long after, their loads releasing as they press themselves deep inside you before riding out their orgasms, moaning near your ears as they breathe heavily.
The men on the sidelines shot ropes as their own bodies tensed, rubbing out their orgasms as they made a mess on their own pants. Curses could be heard throughout the room as they finished up, their cocks re - erecting not long after.
“Y/n.” Mikey says as he pants. “Come clean me up.”
The night continued on as you had orgasm after orgasm from the men taking their turns with your body. The night was heavenly for your fix in the moment, lapping up the attention and pleasure desperately. It wasn’t until your collar was hooked around your neck, followed with a cuff on your ankle that you realized the reality of your placement here. It reminded you of how much of a worthless animal you are to them.
Who knew that one night of passion could turn into multiple nights of you becoming some drugged up sex toy for their own pleasure. Their heats were the worst, becoming so rough with you as if they’re releasing their pent up rage. You couldn’t stop thinking of Eiichi. The way he made you feel normal again and the haunting memory of how he died. You found yourself more and more depressed and eager for a chance of true release.
A year passed and there was a night where you found out about a type of drug from one of the human staff members. It used to be a legal medication specifically made for cat hybrids to consume and become less aggressive and more docile. It also helped them fall asleep faster. Whenever you received the medication, you gave it to the human cook you became friends with who dropped a pill in each of their drinks during dinner before they made it back.
When they consumed the drug, it was quite entertaining. You sat on the couch in the living room instead of the floor while Mikey rubbed his face against your neck as he straddled you, nuzzling against your skin with his ears forward. Sanzu sat beside you sniffing the opposite side of your neck, ears straight up as he licks the skin. You feel Kazutora nuzzling against one of your legs with his arms wrapped around the limb. Ran is knocked out next to you, sleeping in a fetal position with his feet closest to you, tail lying over his own hip. Rin sits with his legs wrapped around your other leg while licking the skin on the back of his hand, grooming himself.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at their clinginess though when you realized your reality you began to think that there was nothing funny about this situation. You called one of their oblivious guards, who thought they just took a new drug they had provided themselves, to walk in to help you remove themselves so everyone can go to bed. When the hybrid snake tried to grab your arm, Mikey’s eyes sharpened before he hissed and used his claws to scratch the snake’s face. His tail rattled in response as he hissed in pain, his hands holding his bloody face as you eye the display in bewilderment.
This will definitely make it easier to escape.
Ran woke up from the commotion just as all of the cats bared their fangs ready to attack as their tails thrashed and ears flattened on their heads. Narrowing their eyes they all dash away from their spots, pouncing on the guard as he yells out in pain. You eye the display but don’t bother to help, waiting patiently as they finish though you look away from the disturbing scene and cover your ears. After they slaughter the man to death, they sleepily walk away, walking with you as you guide them to each of their bedrooms.
After all was done, they were knocked out cold from the drug. You gathered a random bag with necessities and threw the collar you had set on the nightstand in a trash can. You climbed out from the back of the first story’s window, beginning the journey to your new life.
The next day came crashing for the men, Sanzu being the first to know of your absence. Chaos reigned throughout the morning meeting as they took their rage out on irrelevant staff members and guards, wreaking havoc on those who let you slip from their radar. The other executives only stared at the display with blank looks as they watched, only thinking about their next move to find you for the sake of their boss’s and fellow executives’ sanity.
#yandere#yandere x reader#tokyo revengers#yandere tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev smut#sano mikey manjiro#sano manjiro x reader#manjiro x you#kazutora hanemiya#kazutora x reader#kazutora x you#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu x reader#sanzu x you#ran haitani#ran x reader#ran x you#rin x reader#rin haitani#rin x you#hybrid#hybrid au#hybrids#alternate universe#bonten#yandere bonten#bonten trio#bonten x you#bonten x reader
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thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.
like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.
and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.
and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:
[ID: Lyrics that read:
I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi
What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]
(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)
anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.
pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.
also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.
idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.
idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.
#disney#the emperor's new groove#help i wrote a whole essay about this movie#and i didn't even mention how much i love the way kuzco's home life is contrasted with pacha's#ugh. they have one of the most interesting and unique dynamics ever in a disney movie. i love them#love how kuzco gets away from yzma's toxic influence by way of accidentally being adopted#by the guy whose village he almost destroyed for a theme park#they're ENEMIES to FOUND FAMILY.... sobs#kuzco#pacha#yzma#kronk
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Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader
The time has come, babes, this could be the final part
I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away
(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
♡♡♡
"I'll see you, Lucifer."
"I hope so."
Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?
Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.
But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.
Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp.
3:01PM
"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.
—
You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.
Speaking of,
"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.
"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.
Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you.
"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.
"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.
"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.
"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.
As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.
"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel?
"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.
"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.
"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.
"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.
"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.
"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.
"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.
"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.
After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.
Purple always looked good on you.
"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.
"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.
"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.
"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious.
Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.
"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.
"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.
"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.
"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.
"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.
"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.
"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.
"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.
You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.
The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.
You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.
The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.
"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.
Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.
"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.
"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.
Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.
Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.
The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.
Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.
"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.
You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.
"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.
"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.
Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.
Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.
He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.
"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.
"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.
"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.
You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.
You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?
"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.
You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.
"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.
His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.
"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?
"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.
"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.
"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.
"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.
"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.
"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.
Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.
Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.
"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.
"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.
Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.
Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..
A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.
The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.
Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.
Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.
"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.
"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.
"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.
"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.
What just happened?
"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.
♡♡♡
lmao jk there's more parts coming
( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )
!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee
@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel smut#lucifer fluff#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel fan fiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#lucifer x you smut#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor
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Can you do hdcs on MK1 men pushing the reader to a wall while kissing them?
randomly selected mk1 men hcs: how raiden, rain, smoke, shang tsung, reptile, and kung lao go about pushing reader to the wall while kissing them
warnings: suggestive (y'all horny freekie fucs) reader being a monster fucker mentioned 😈
these aren't bullet points. they're like lil blurbs for each character cause the bullets would've been awkwardly placed. otherwise, enjoy! part two here
Raiden
Raiden's kisses were always so gentle and sweet, like him, but when your moans poured into his mouth as your back hit the wall, a flip switched in his mind. His calloused hands roamed your body so carelessly, yet with such thought. Rough, yet with a soft touch. Fervent, yet patient. His hand was wrapped around the nape of your neck with such care like his lips weren't just at war with yours, but clearly that was no issue the way you pulled him even closer and tried your best to stay quiet. Who knew the Wu Shi Academy was a great spot for lowkey make out sessions?
Rain
You always knew Rain was a passionate lover. The same efforts and care he put in his magic and knowledge, ten times more went into you. So when he had you against the wall in his office, surrounded by his own creations and scrolls only you knew about, it was make out city. The way his lips molded to yours should've been illegal with how mesmerizing it was. His hands were no stranger to your hips; you were like a shiny antique on his bookshelf he cherished. If you dare to run your fingers through his hair while you kissed, you can and will get taken on this same wall.
Smoke
Smoke was always the kind of man to start slow/gentle and gradually become more aggressive in his ways. However, some things just drive him crazy. You drive him crazy. His patience went just like that, and now here you both are groaning and whining into each other's mouths. Your lips just looked so soft, they were calling his name in a taunting manner. Now, he's not so aggressive that you hit the wall harshly, no, the contrasting feathery touch of his hands gliding along your body to the hunger in his kiss was just enough to get both of you to the next level of passion.
Shang Tsung
Shang Tsung is only ever gentle with you. His aura was just so powerful in itself, all he had to do was walk you into the wall. He didn't need to push you against it to assert dominance. His eyes never dared to dart from yours, especially when you looked so cute trying to hold his gaze. If it were a third person point of view they'd think you're under hypnosis. One face caress and your lips locked with his. If you thought he was power hungry individual before? You haven't seen anything yet.
Reptile
Syzoth is a mystery. On one hand he's a romantic lover and on the other, his Zaterran instincts get the best of him. His abnormal strength always lead to him picking you up in some way shape or form, so here you were on the wall and straddling his waist all because he got excited. Being a monster fucker had its perks since his lizard tongue didn't change with his human form, and that didn't bother you at all. In fact, you welcomed it every time you kissed; once he figured that out he used to his advantage every time.
Kung Lao
Kung Lao is the type of man who was driven by pride, so he was bound to tease you to no end anytime soon. His kisses were usually feverish and slightly aggressive with a touch of a sweet side. Once he gets you on that wall from all that teasing and shit talking it's no different. Only the sound of heavy breaths, lips smacking, and clothes rubbing against each other filled the room every time it happened. He smirks into the kiss every. single. time. He refuses to let you slip away from him even for a moment. His hands have to always be on you, which especially isn't hard to do when you literally have nowhere else to go. But hey, any objections? Didn't think so!
a/n: if y'all want a part 2, you know what to do! (haha that rhymed)
#n3ptoonz#mk1#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 1#raiden mk1#rain mk#smoke mk#mk smoke#shang tsung#reptile mk#syzoth#mk x reader#mk1 kung lao#mk kung lao#kung lao#mk headcanons
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I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO CRY 😭 😭 😭. I’M NOT PLAYING I FINALLY FIGURED OUT MANIFESTATION. SO I HAVE TWO STORIES TO TELL, THE FIRST ONE IS A MONEY MANIFESTATION AND THE OTHER ONE WAS DONE WITHIN SECONDS!! MY MOM WAS REALLY STRUGGLING WITH HER NEW RESTAURANT AND SHE ASK ME TO PRY FOR HER, SO I WAS THINKING LET ME DO YOU ONE BETTER MAMA . SO AFTER THAT CALL I STARTED LISTENING TO MONEY SUBS AND I KEPT AFFIRMING THAT “THERE ARE SO MANY CUSTOMERS AT MY MOM’S FOOD TRUCK RIGHT NOW”
“I MANIFEST FAST” “WITHIN HOURS I NOTICES THAT I ALREADY ALL MY DESIRES” “I ALREADY HAVE IT ALL.” “I AM ALREADY EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED TO BE.”
“IT’S ALREADY DONE.” “CREATION IS FINISHED.” “I FULFILL MYSELF IN MY IMAGINATION AND I KNOW THE 3D WILL INSTANTLY REFLECT.” “ALL OF MY DESIRES HAVE ALREADY MANIFESTED.”“I AM ALREADY EVERYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED TO BE.” “THERE IS NO MORE WORK THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE BECAUSE I ALREADY HAVE IT ALL.” THEN I JUST ACCEPTED THAT IT HAS HAPPENED, WHEN ON WITH MY NIGHT AND ANYTIME I HAD A LIMITLESS/WAVERING BELIEF I JUST REPEATED THOSE AFFIRMATIONS AND YESTERDAY MY DAD LITERALLY TOLD ME THAT THE REASON THAT THEY CAME HOME SO LATE LAST NIGHT WAS BECAUSE SUDDENLY GOT SO MANY CUSTOMERS OUT OF NOWHERE HE SAID AROUND 6:00PM WHICH WAS WHEN I STARTED MY SATURATION SESSION🤩🤯 AND THE SECOND ONE WAS YESTERDAY TOO AND IT WAS IN SECONDS , SO MY DAD TOOK ME TO PANDA EXPRESS TO HAVE LUNCH, AND WHEN WE WERE DRIVING HOME THE CAR WASN’T STARTING SO I DECIDED TO JUST ROBOTIC AFFIRM AND AFTER JUST 5 MINUTES I STARTED WORKING….. LIKE WHAT!!! I’VE BEEN STUDYING MANIFESTATION FOR THIS WHOLE YEAR AND I FINALLY FIGURED IT OUT.
JUST: affirm (or any other method) — persist— detach. And if all else fails ROBOTIC AFFIRM😉 THANK YOU LOA🎀🛍️🧸🍦
OH EM GEE IM SO PROUD OF YOU GIRL U RLY DID THAT!!! UR A MASTER MANIFESTOR CONGRATULATIONS 👏🏽💓🍬
#honeytonedhottie⭐️#law of assumption#loa success#success story#manifesting#CONGRATS GIRLIE#ask🎀#ask honey
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Part 2 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine
Alpha!Logan x omega!reader
Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers
Set at Charles school
Your mutation: fire creation and control
Previous part <-
It was the weekend thankfully, and you have majority of the school to yourself seeing as most kids go home for the weekends. You haven’t been in contact with your parents since the accident, you begged Charles to wipe their memory of ever having you but he said no. You weren’t in the right place mentally when you first got here, you’ve burnt down a total of five rooms before Professor Hank managed to make you a fire proof room. You almost begged to sleep outside so at least then Storm could rain away your fire and Charles could calm your mind. More than once Professor Charles was forced to calm you, other kids were scared of you when they saw you in the middle of the burning room wailing like a Banshee and not the mutant kind. More than once you locked yourself in the training room used for mutants like Havoc, at least that was fireproof. You laid on the cold floor with nothing but the suit Professor Hank made for you, curled up in the corner when your fire would be out of control.
Footsteps make you snap back to reality your spoon burning hot and melting in your hand. You panic rush to the sink ignoring whoever walked in and running it under cold water. You sigh in relief glancing at the table and seeing no damage apart from this half melted spoon.
“You alright kid?” You jump forgetting the other person and apologising before you see him, Logan, the Wolverine.
“Yeah, fine” you say and he nods an unamused look on his face. You get a new spoon quickly and go back to your cereal frowning when he lets out an annoyed grunt and huffs. He picks up a soda and pops it open an unhappy look on his face.
“Are you ok?” You ask the alpha who frowns and looks to you, you gulp thinking you’ve done something wrong.
“They haven’t got beer” he says and now you frown.
“This is a school, filled with underage children? You know that right?” You say and he grumbles finishing his drink quickly and leaving. Well then.
Seems every time you see Logan he’s wearing a frown or a scowl and you swear the alpha is just pissed at the world constantly. You’ve seen him in training, the stern look he wears while barking words, hell the other kids look terrified. You figure he’s just a grumpy old bastard who smelt like heaven on earth for five seconds. You’re thankful for your scent blockers, you don’t know if you could handle that scent in the hallway every second day for the last month. Your position here is weird, not many older students are here that are your age, you sit in on classes, sometimes you help teach classes or help the other teachers with whatever they need, a in the middle man. Students are still weary of you when they approach due to your past time here, but the newer ones don’t seem to mind you.
As of late though you feel extra tired, your muscles hurt and you feel like the school rests on your shoulder. You blame stress and anxiety and whatever else you can think of at night when you’re so tired you can’t sleep. Your nightmares have been worse lately too, flickers of images taunting your usually normal dreams. You don’t wake in flames though, just an overly warm bed and sweat. It’s strange your mutation though you can literally stand within flames and fire doesn’t hurt, you feel the heat of it though and still sweat when not fully engulfed in flames, Jean says it’s because of the medications your taking, you don’t care though, rather be on them and sweat than not be on them and be on fire all the time. You’re walking down the hall when you hear arguing, you frown and glance seeing Jean and Logan in a classroom. His shoulders are tense and Jean looks ready to through him through a wall. You figure you should let them figure it out but something stops you.
“I can be better than him!” Logan growls and you frown, better than who.
“Scott is an amazing man, an amazing partner I don’t need or want you Logan!” Jean says back more calm than Logan. Oh. You hear Logan growl and heavy steps.
“You know we are good together” his voice is lower, hinting seductiveness that makes your stomach clench.
“No we weren’t” Jean says back voice low but dangerous. You scurry off heart pounding feeling like something punched you in the face, of course Logan was interested in someone else Jesus you barely knew the grumpy alpha. Why did it hurt then?
You hurry back to your room heart still racing as your body begins to heat up. You throw your books on the ground gripping your hair as you breathe heavily. Your window fogs and small flames flicker over your skin as you sit in the corner and try to breathe. You were having a panic attack, your ears rang, your stomach churned and flames danced along your arms, your clothes began to burn off leaving the suit underneath as you let out a cry and your body engulfed in flames. You panted loudly, clenched and unclenched your fists, your eyes unfocused and focused, your room spun. You forced your eyes shut a knocking at the door making you cry. You locked the door you’d be safe, well they would be safe from you. You shook your head slowly rocking your body back and forth as your flames crawled towards your carpet and caught it. You cried no tears but sobbed as your bed was next in the flames and the bedside tables, your books and lamp, your phone. The door broke down and panic shot through you as you stared at whoever was stupid enough. You heard your name being shouted but you shook your head hugged your knees.
“GET OUT!” Your flames roared with you as you sobbed. The figure moved through the fire though and you frowned seeing Logan, the grumpy alpha with a determined look on his face.
“Hey, hey! I need you to look at me!” He knelt close the hair in his arms singeing, his clothes next.
“Get out!” You snapped flames flaring as the alpha winced.
“You can’t hurt me” he says and you scoff seeing his skin blister and peel. A new panic sets in, one that has you reeling back your power in a hurry, the flames stop, your body goes back to normal as you stare in horror at the alpha in front of you. You hold his arms tears rolling down your face.
“No, no! You stupid-“ your words stop his skin heals, the blisters and red marks leave leaving untarnished skin. You look to his face seeing the blisters heal and you cup his face.
“What-“ you mutter checking him over besides his charred clothes he’s fine. Your names are called, Professor Charles, Jean and Storm appearing outside the door.
“She’s alright” Logan calls not breaking eye contact as you check him over some more. You grip his arms in slight confusion.
“What?, why did-?” You speak quietly looking at his healed body again. You sniff as you realise you’re touching him.
“I’m sorry” you let his arms go, hands and body shaking as you wipe your tears.
“I’m sorry I-“ you gulp a little looking to the Professor.
“It’s alright” he says smiling softly as you shudder and look back to the alpha in front of you.
It was stupid, fighting with Jean for no reason, he was on edge, like a caged animal craving food. He took it out on a few kitchen cupboards and a fridge before Jean confronted him and then he broke loose. God help him. Jean took it, strong and calm like the alpha she was while he turned into some hot headed dick head alpha you always see in the news. He knew why though, you. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, that sweet scent that attacked every fibre in his body when you first saw him. You went into some kind of shock staring at him, glancing a Jean occasionally trying to get your words to work, he found it cute as your cheeks went red and you silently battled with yourself. He’d smelt you on Jean before, wondering why the hell she smelt like sweet omega before he met you and our scent to face. Too young to be a professor too old to be a student. Walking past you when he left he resisted the urge to press his nose into your hair and breathe deeply. Then your scent went dull, every time he passed you, you were unaffected and he was finding himself more and more annoyed he couldn’t catch your scent. He’d watch you when you were going about your day, how you blended in with everything yet all he say was you like a ray of sunshine. He didn’t know your power, found it too weird to ask one of his fellow teachers or the professor. He’s unsure when you arrived, during the mission he last went on when took a few months more than he wanted. He never saw you in training and wondering what your mutation was, he could smell it in your scent you were a mutant, what it was though he couldn’t tell.
He was fighting with Jean for no reason again, it had been a month and he was restless more than ever. He’d gone to Charles to beg for a mission, but there was nothing to be done no mutant to save and he was always controlling his claws. He heard someone outside this time though and they didn’t go making him frown before a shot went through him and whoever it was went away. He left quickly then, following the dull scent he wish wasn’t so dull, he heard your sobbing felt it almost, felt the heat too and frowned. Something snapped and he needed to be near you, by you, help you with whatever the hell is going on. Your cry spurred him on and he broke down the door. Your room wasn’t what he expected, all the other kids rooms were nicely wooden and furnished with whatever decorations they had yours though, yours was metal, metal floor, wall and ceiling, metal sealed door to what he assumed was the bathroom. A single bed now in flames alone with the bedside tables and their contents. You were panicking, no scent blocker could hide the sour scent that tingled his nose in an unnatural way. He forced through those flames hearing you sob, he needed to be by you now. It was hot, hotter than a normal fire as he approached. He knelt in front of you ignoring your protest, he gritted his teeth in pain at the flames in his skin, charring his clothes, blistering his skin. Something snapped inside you and the flames reeled in and a new panic settled over. He heard the others before you as you cried, shaky hands hovering over his wounds as he stared. You froze though, seeing his wounds healing as he let out a small sigh. Your shaky hands held his hands, checked his wounds, his body, watching his face heal before cupping it in your hand. You were calmer now, still shaken but you weren’t engulfed in fire and neither was he. Your apologies made his heart break in ways he’d forgotten, the tears in your eyes as you kept your hands on him, grounding yourself with him. You realised soon you’d been touching him, cheeks redder than before as you retract, his head tilting slightly. Before your eyes were back on his again. A single word running through his mind. Mine.
Next part ->
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The way I tend to characterize the Alan-created stick figures is that his mindset in the moment he made them defines who they are, even if their personalities and habits can change over their years of existence.
Victim was made solely to be tormented in an early 00s style violent stick figure animation. This means he views everything in terms of how much of a threat it is to him, and is singularly focused on taking revenge on his tormentor. If he's not the "victim", he's not really anything - he has no identity. He may or may not already know that Alan's a changed person who now treats his creations with kindness, but either way, it wouldn't stop him from seeking out revenge.
The Chosen One was made to be powerful, first and foremost, because the Animator wanted a challenge. That's why it's in his nature to rebel, to break the status quo, to disrupt. It doesn't mean he's evil, just that he tends to go against the grain of the current situation. At first it means he's seeking to break the Animator's control of the computer, then he says "screw destiny" by befriending the one made solely to destroy him, then they cause more chaos across the internet because it's in their nature. But the longer he stays in that, the more he thinks he needs to change, that this isn't right - because, again, he was never made to be evil, just powerful and disruptive.
That's why the Dark Lord is so fucked: he was made as a weapon. Just to destroy. His only reason for coming into existence was because the Animator needed the Chosen One dealt with. He doesn't reject the status quo, he follows it, no matter who's telling him what it is - first it's the Animator, then it's Chosen, his only friend. Whereas Chosen starts to have second thoughts, it's not in Dark's nature to do so - only to improve, to polish the violence and destruction to an absolute mirror sheen, all to impress the one person he cares about. When Chosen turns on him and the Animator is still his enemy, I think the only reason Dark is still causing destruction is because that's literally all he's ever done. It's all he knows. He can't imagine anything outside that because he has no experience with anything else.
And that's why, from a symbolic standpoint, the Second Coming is his greatest threat and the one to defeat him. She's his antithesis. Made years after everything with Chosen and Dark was over and done with, made just because the Animator was doing what he loved: creating. And unlike with Victim, she was probably intended to do more than suffer and die for black comedy.
Second's core ability is creating, no matter what environment she's in - she uses the pencil in the main series to effortlessly make living beings or tools, constantly crafts and comes up with ideas in the Minecraft series, and learns the rules of the universes around her to use them to her benefit in the Education series. Dark only knows destruction. Second only knows creation. Even after she seemingly wins in IV, she tosses the ray gun aside and starts making things now that she has free reign of the computer - she only seeks to destroy so long as there's a threat to herself or what she cares about.
#Animator vs. Animation#Alan Becker#ava victim#The Chosen One#The Dark Lord#The Second Coming#TCO#TDL#TSC#This is why I'm pleading for Dark Lord to come back in 6#So much untapped unexplored potential#He doesn't even need a redemption arc I just want his mindset to be explored more#Beyond ''I am doing this because I enjoy it''
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There’ve been a few responses to/reblogs with tags on my post about DIY clothing embellishments that basically boil down to ‘I’d love to do this but I’m scared it’ll turn out bad/I’m not a good enough artist’. And I get it, I really do! I also want my art things to turn out nicely. But also...making it badly is sort of the point of punk DIY.
Listen. We live in a world that would dearly love to charge you a subscription fee for breathing. The bastards are doing everything they possibly can to figure out how to turn art - stories, visual art, music, textile/fibre art, sculpture, crafts and creations of every kind - into a neat, discrete, packageable commodity, a product they can chop up into little pieces and stick behind a paywall so they can charge you for every drop of it you want to have in your life.
The whole sneering idea that ‘everybody wants to be some kind of creator now’ and anything less than absolute mastery right out the gate is somehow shameful and embarrassing is a tool those bastards are using. It’s a way to reinforce the idea that only a set group of people can create and control art, and everybody else has to buy it.
But art isn’t a product. Art is a fundamental human impulse. Nobody is entitled to a specific piece of art (which is where this message gets skewed into pitting people who love art against the artists who make it, while the bastards screw us all and run away with the money). But making art belongs to everybody. We make up songs and dances and stories, and paint things, and make clothes, and embellish them, and carve flowers into our furniture and our lintels and our doorframes, and make windows out of tiny pieces of coloured glass, and decorate our homes and our bodies and our lives with things we make and make up, simply for the love of beauty and of the act of creation. Grave goods from tens of thousands of years ago show that ancient hominids gave their dead wreaths of ceramic flowers, tattooed their bodies, beaded their shoes. Making things for the sake of beauty and enjoyment is one of the most ancient and human things we can do.
The idea that we can’t, that we have to buy shit instead, because art is a product and you have to have the bestest prettiest most perfect product, is the enemy of joy. It’s the death of culture. And it means that, instead of whatever it is that you cherish and enjoy and value, you get whatever inoffensive (and to whom is it inoffensive?) bland meaningless samey-samey crap that the bastards want you to be allowed to have. What are you missing and what are you missing out on, if you don’t make or modify or decorate anything for yourself, if you don’t think you can because the product at the end won’t be polished or perfect or marketable enough? What do you lose? What do we lose?
It is a desperately vital and necessary thing for you to make shit. For you to know that you can make shit, that you don’t have to just lie back and take whatever pablum the bastards want to force-feed you (and charge you through the nose for). That the bastards need you more than you need them.
Become ungovernable. Be your own weirdly-endearing punk little freak. Paint on a t-shirt. Sing off-key in the shower or at karaoke night or at open mic night. Make up a story where you get to meet your favourite fictional character and you guys hug or fuck or punch each other in the face. Make art. Do it badly. Do it frequently. Do it enthusiastically. Do it for love and joy and creativity and fun and the spiteful joy of thumbing your nose at some smug motherfucker with a Swiss bank account who wants to track your heartbeat and location for the rest of your life in order to automatically pump AI-generated beats matched to your mood into your earbuds for a small monthly subscription fee of $24.99/month. It is literally the only way we are ever going to have even a chance to save art and our own lives from the bastards.
So. Paint that t-shirt.
(Also support artists where you can, and buy your music from Bandcamp.)
#this post brought to you by: me being so so sad about zoomers having crafts and Making Thing With Your Hands Badly stolen from them#also by me listening to a radio show on How The Sony Walkman Changed Music And Where It's Going Next#ready for the san andreas fault to open up and swallow silicon valley whole forever folks#anyway. followers i am getting down off the cafeteria table now.
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so remember when i screamed about the hollow heads and specifically their roles?
these aren’t related to them in any way don’t worry about it
welcome back to the land under the cut where all that happens here is either doodles or more screaming :3
anyway i thought about victim some more and like. i dunno man his whole thang is just really fun to me. I MEAN NOT FOR HIM IT SUCKS FOR HIM but like fun to think about. he was created just to mess around with and was then deleted (or he survived or got revived we’ll see) and then it stuck with him so hard he decided to carry a grudge on his creator for literal years, even going so far as to invent or at least utilize the animation tools used against him and the other stick figures, and when he got ahold of the one lead he knew would be better at helping him accomplish his goal more than anything, he treated him exactly as he was treated when he was first made, changing the roles so that the other party is the victim and he is now the one in control.
except oopsy daisy!!!!! he wasn’t made with powers!!!! everything he used against chosen and everything he used to find chosen were either made or through the help of others who did have special abilities!!! at his core he’s Just Some Guy!!!!! and in the end, he took the role of the animator he hated so much in the box, the guy who HE DEDICATED AN ENTIRE COMPANY TO BECAUSE OF HATING HIM SO MUCH!!!!! he quite literally became the thing he swore to destroy!!!!!!!!!
OOUUGHHGHHGH AND DARK. i finally have things to say about him. he was made with the only mission being to destroy chosen, then that backfired and they teamed up, and then he decided to go around doing whatever and breaking stuff and wreaking havoc with chosen for funsies x3, and when he took it too far with the creation of the virabots, whatever alliance or relationship they’d established fizzled out pretty much immediately and it was right back to square one all because chosen interfered with his plans because it was baked into him!!!! or because he was tired of constant violence, either works out :3 anyway DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN!!!!! I HOPE SO!!!!!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
#nothing much for sec#honestly he doesn’t even know he HAS a role until the box#and even then it’s just the realization he has powers where his actual title isn’t revealed and is more of an implication than anything#anyway#wrgwurwhgrhegfrhrhf#animator vs animation#ava#ava victim#ava tdl#ava tco#alan becker#my art !! :]
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