#the fandoms i mostly focused on when making this was:

[dogtoling]

General life- and blog update , since I assume at least a few people might have been wondering where I've been and what i've been up to recently. I obviously haven't been posting or drawing much this year in general. This will probably be an important post if you care about stuff on this blog, and I already rambled on Sheezy, but that site isn't very populated yet and it's also very good at hiding journals so let's just ramble again...

The summary of this post if you hate reading: I'm heavily considering just stepping away from Splatoon. That decision obviously would affect this blog (mostly, my OCs, which is kinda most of the blog at this point). I don't think the blog itself will go anywhere, and I'll probably use it for something in the future... alternatively i'll cherry pick stuff from here into an archive for people who like the worldbuilding.

Longer post under cut:

So what have I been up to this year? The answer is quite simple: NOTHING. Like, actually absolutely nothing. Aside from Art Fight, this has probably been one of my worst art output years of all time, which is really frustrating. That's between my horrendous mental health and depression chasms this year and a complete lack of both focus and inspiration (which can also get chalked down to the depression to a degree, yeah). So the very real reason to why there hasn't been much activity on this blog this year is because I just haven't Done Anything in general.

Now because I know there will be a few people who think "that's fine! you shouldn't judge yourself based on productivity!" you're right! I also agree. However the issue for me specifically is that most (if not all) the time I spend NOT drawing or creating, I spend sitting around wishing I could start drawing or creating, because that is like the 1 thing that keeps me sane on this freaking earth. Unfortunately coming up with OC scenarios in my head doesn't really result in output I can feel fulfilled by in any form as much as I wish it did, lol.

Now; The Issue. It doesn't take a genius to see that if you spend 9 months trying to finish like a dozen OC pages that you COULD do in a week or 2 if you wanted to, then there's probably more than just the problem of executive dysfunction (even though that's at least 60% of it for sure). Obviously my other major problem is that I live by imaginary rules and structures that make sense, but aren't actually useful at ALL in reality and are more than a hindrance if anything (the mental to do-list in my head that says i can't do X until I've done Y doesn't do very much if task Y takes 10 months and I also don't want to do it, and it also has no structured ending).

How does this tie into stepping away from Splatoon, you may ask. Well, the issue is that I have foreseeably fallen out of love with the series. Which isn't exactly news lol. Currently, I'm not even sure i will get the next game, if and when the time comes. Yes, the loss of interest is also expected, given that Splatoon 3 has ended and every fandom has this kind of downtime and lukewarm in-between-titles period. But the truth is that modern Splatoon (almost 10 years old!!!!) is tangibly different from the way the series was back when I fell in love with it. That was Splatoon 1, and while the series has improved in a lot of aspects and is thriving, it's grown in a direction that I just don't really like. Splatoon 3 had the most freaking horrendous, immersion breaking story mode they could've done, then they followed it up with a DLC story that was pretty cool but also compounded a lot of my fears about the series' future and played into every single thing i do not want Splatoon stories to be - fully character focused, random fucking villain, mundane event that's unrealistically world-threatening just because a kids video game needs a scary climax even though it's immersion breaking AGAIN, the whole thing taking place in cyberspace and thus offering basically no worldbuilding even though there is SO MUCH WORLD. I COULD GO ON.

The gist of it is that nowadays, rather than playing Splatoon and being inspired and excited at what comes next, I mostly find myself dreading what dumbass plot they will do next to throw a wrench in the otherwise good stuff. And when that's like THE main approach I have to what's supposed to be my favorite series, it is HARROWING. I can't even really blame the game for this; the story is NOT its selling point, the developers probably do their best to get the bits to us that they really want to tell, and at the end of the day the game is unfortunately a product. Worldbuilding for Splatoon is fun to a point. It's less fun when in order to actually write or create something coherent, instead of filling in the blanks, the blanks are 90% of the freaking thing. At that point you're just better off making something of your own instead of being anchored onto an IP that gives more problems than answers and occasionally shoots you with like a machine gun. Working in the realm of Splatoon is frustrating because more often than not, the questions I have ARE NOT MINE TO ANSWER, and the likelihood that the specific-ass questions I need answers to will ever be actually addressed is really low.

Tying this back to my OCs. Obviously I love my OCs more than I love myself which admittedly isn't that high of a bar but you get the point. The problem is that I spend a lot of time mulling over worldbuilding that, again, frankly isn't mine to do. Because if I want it to be Splatoon, then it should be mostly accurate to how Splatoon is! But the problem with that is that there's really not THAT MUCH worldbuilding in the series that you can work with, and most of the core game mechanics are just abstract enough that it's actually horrendous to try and come up with workarounds and ways for things to make sense that don't require just constructing a full knockoff version mirror dimension of the game and saying fuck everything that's in place here because Inkopolis Plaza literally has no roads in or out of there and I have no fucking idea how that's allowed when your only option is to jump the fence (or, nowadays, take the train which also isnt connected to a street as far as I remember). Between the face value issue and the lack of REALLY IMPORTANT worldbuilding, like - I will always come back to this - THE INK TANK'S FUNCTION 10 YEARS DOWN THE LINE - there's a goddamn ocean of plot holes and things that end up being obstacles to creativity rather than inspiration. I feel like I'm pretty solidly at the point (and have been for a while) where hanging onto Splatoon is really only contributing to creativity block and frustration with lack of freedom and the ability to actually do things.

So I guess those are my reasonings that I've put together just sitting here for the time being. The TL;DR is that I wish I could just do stuff without Splatoon's canon getting in the way, which is a really stupid problem to have if you're making Splatoon OCs. I feel this frustration extremely strongly every time I have to work with actual bigger aspects of the world; we still don't have an Inkopolis map, we don't know what the world around Inkopolis looks like, we don't know what the wilderness is like aside from Just Normal Forest and Desert and very few snippets as to what modern wildlife MIGHT be, I still don't know how the fuck the Inklings teleport to the goddamn arctic ocean to play a turf war at Shipshape Cargo co. These are all actually really important things if you're trying to establish a setting in any kind of storytelling that's outside of immediate city bounds (and even there, you need to know the layout of the city and its important areas). Also a fucking mutant bear and a baby salmon and a squid not wearing suitable gear went to space and fought on a rocket in space. These are some things that would give me peace of mind to not have to deal with in my own writing, probably.

So where do we go from here? Unsure. I haven't really made a decision on this front yet, though right now I'm leaning more towards actually going ahead with trying to do my own thing. That will result in obvious design and setting changes for my OCs whenever I get around to it. This blog probably won't go anywhere (again, unless I impulse delete it during a mood swing like i've almost done on like three separate occasions this year), but it will probably get less use, and I will probably end up making a new blog to post about whatever I end up doing once I get to a point where it feels like it makes sense. There's a chance that I will delete this blog and put all the interesting stuff on an archive blog for the people who are here just for the worldbuilding. My actual true passion for a long time now hasn't even been Splatoon anymore, it's just been cephalopods. I'm kind of done having Splatoon get in the way of the cephalopods, as thankful as I am that it introduced me to them...

If you read this to the end heres a treat for you = 🍪

[kermit-the-hag]

fanfic tropes:

tagged by @cranberrymoons and @highkingpenny

FYI - I didn’t include the A/B/O option because it is spelled w/o slashes which is a slur for indigenous australians and I would rather not have that on my blog. So anyone I tag, please be aware of the slur. (Also it is D tier please dont come for me)

Link

tagging: @rhaenyyras (you dont have a choice sorry lol) @steviesbicrisis @killyspinacoladas @bettiebloodshed @dwobbitfromtheshire @munsinner @changemunson @scoupsahoy @corrodedbisexual @corrodedcoughin @navnae

[dykedvonte]

why do you hate Joshua Graham or Honest Hearts so much?

This DLC and character represents a bigger issue with fandom spaces I have but particularly fallout fandom in general.

Fallout tends to tackle a lot of topics controversial and not. The first two games it’s heavy cause they are the most satirical and direct with how anti-war, nationalism and etc… they are. 3 loses this as it’s very clear once you play or learn about all the games that Todd and a bunch of guys at Bethesda just liked the 50s post apocalyptic aesthetic and refuse to actually critique the ideals of the time period like the earlier titles.

New Vegas is the game that really gets back into it a degree it almost seems like it’s taking too much on. There are things done exceedingly well while other things are done horribly wrong . I’ve made posts about it before and plan to make a big series of posts (it’s a lot of writing) but my biggest gripe is with Honest Hearts and all the gross and white savior esque depictions it has of indigenous peoples. The entirety if FNV does not do the injustices faced by indigenous people correctly on any count. My two biggest complaints are with the Khans and the tribes in Zion but I’ll talk about the former on a different post.

Both characters of Daniel and Joshua are the most accurate depiction of white saviors I’ve seen and I hate how the DLC tries to justify and defend them. The DLC treats Joshua like this man who has repented for his past actions when he is just retracing his steps after his cruelty bit him in the ass. He was one of the worst parts of the Legion and it is all but explicitly stated that if you don’t force him to be non-violent he will turn the tribes of Zion into the legion 2.0. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are horribly infantilized by both Daniel and Joshua who both use them for self serving purposes guised by religious duty. The White Legs are the horrible stereotype of violent and savage indigenous and I personally think a lot of their interlinking with Ulysses, his hair and Ulysses character in general are distasteful and very telling of how BIPOC or POC where involved.

But outside of the game it’s the weird obsession people have with these characters ideologies and trying to make them seem more interesting/philosophical than they are. Tumblr is an echo chamber and many fans of Fallout are not the people on this site. Many people are not educated in the issues these characters convey and how poorly they do or used these characters as a poor introduction for their takes. Contrary to what a lot of people believe in, fallout has a prediomeny white cis male fanbase. More importantly a large portion of the fanbase is white.

You can joke how FNV made you trans or see the numbers on post/fics or diverse headcanons but these are kiddy numbers compared to the millions that consume the franchise and aren’t in those more aware spaces or don’t engage in the spaces the same way someone like me does/has to. Their views shape a lot more than people realize and it’s exhausting to be in a space where people don’t correct the more subtle yet toxic aspects of it but also adopt them into some weird quirky view point on the characters or issues. Some people don’t realize and some people don’t care.

My main issue is just the idolizing of these sort of thing in this fandom space and people try to acts like a game like fallout whose tagline is “War never changes” and has never had a game not revolve around political or militaristic factions issues isn’t that deep or doesn’t relate to real issues. I think it’s mainly caused by how over powered you can become and how you can strong arm your way past these learning moments as majority of people who play this game do play it as a power fantasy where they can do so as they please (which of course, go ahead it’s fun) but never take in parallels or lessons in the story as if it was just another first person shooter.

Also like another personal gripe is Cazadores spawn like hell whenever I’m there and I have not found a mod that works to mod them out so I have to play Indigenous Racism the DLC while getting jumped by giant wasps WHILE helping Mormons. Like I cannot catch a break.

[always-a-joyful-note]

This might be a controversial opinion, but I don't blame Hanamaki Sumire at all for her actions. That's not to say that I don't hold her responsible or that I don't think what she did was horrible (poor Ryu), just that she was a vulnerable woman manipulated by people who didn't care about her (namely, Torao and Ryo). And it's always....interesting to see how in so many industries - but especially the entertainment industry - it's women who bear the brunt of the blame or hate when their wrongs are either the result of others manipulating her choices or "equally" (so to speak) as bad as the male entertainer who did something similar. Do I like Sumire? Not really. But do I think she was the bad guy here? Also no.

[dahldahlbills]

I really need to get serious about personal projects again

[hakuryuu]

Oh wait you mean like original posts where you were expressing your thoughts? I totally understand that.

gjdjfjejf yeah mostly those! ive had my reblog tagging system on this blog for a long time though too so sometimes ill go deep into one of my tags and see something that i tagged with period-appropriate parlance and enthusiasm or with some classically Old Me thoughts and I'll sort of just have to take a deep breath. cringe is dead but by god im still working through it

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[hexiva]

Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep

There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.

I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.

Forums

The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.

Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.

This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.

Tumblr

You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.

There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:

Jcink Tinder

RPG Adverts

RPings

There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.

Reddit

Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -

Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:

r/DiscordRP

r/RoleplayPartnerSearch

r/roleplaying

r/Roleplay

Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.

Discord

In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:

roleplay partner hub

Rockin Roleplay

The Roleplay Garden

roleplay help

the roleplay connection

RP Central

Roleplay Central

Roleplay Hub

Barbermonger also has a Discord server

Roleplay Meets: Reborn

RP Hub

The Scribes Guild

DM Rp Village

cherry blossom! roleplay hub

DM-RP

Roleplay Round Table (21+)

The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)

The Roleplayer's Directory

If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.

Other

The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.

Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[queers-gambit]

Match Made in Grey Haven

prompt: ( requested ) you find yourself in what feels like a distant relationship through penned letters. overcome with shyness during his visits, you avoid Herald Elrond - until your grandfather (and co.) steps in as matchmaker.

pairing: Elrond x shy!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 2.9k+

note: it's not much, i'm so sorry.

warnings: takes place BEFORE the events of TROP, abrupt ending, small hurt mostly comfort, feelings are hard, author is very abrasive and isn't sure this is conveyed fully as "shy" so i'm sorry, anxiety, unedited, wonky brain goes wonky, fluff, small drama, lost + healthy family relationships, romance, friends-to-lovers.

part two: The Risk

"You appear ill at-ease," Círdan mentioned as he casually strolled from the shadows of his workshop, the last of the day lingering in a warm glow, "which I am not accustomed to seeing on a face such as yours."

Elrond, busy at work carving one of the perfect ships his old master was crafting a fleet of, barely slowed down but did glance up in acknowledgment. He sniffled hastily, looking back at the pliable wood under his hands.

"Merely focused, my Lord, nothing more."

"Hm," Círdan hummed, pacing around slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin up, shoulders back, grey locks glistening in familiar waves, "interesting choice of words."

"How so?" Elrond paused to pet the curve of the wood, trying in vain to hide his true bubbling feelings. He went straight back to work, aware Círdan watched him closely.

"Y/N said the exact same." This made the High King's Herald pause in full, Círdan smirking, "Ah, just as I suspected."

"I do not think - "

"You fool nobody but yourself," Círdan chuckled, waving off Elrond's words and stepping closer to admire the boat carving. "She cares for you, too, you know?"

"With respect, my Lord... But you are mistaken," Elrond deflected. "Your granddaughter and I, we are merely friends - if that. We only exchange letters - "

"And feelings," Círdan pointed out, watching Elrond flush under his interrogation. Just outside the doors, you approached, thinking you would fetch your grandfather for supper; slowing when the older, wiser Elf tisked, "Ah, come now, Elrond, do not look so forlorn, there are worst fates than that of emotional - "

"With respect," Elrond repeated, cutting Círdan off, your hand hovering over the door handle, "there are no emotions involved when it comes to your granddaughter."

You froze.

"Yet I will not believe that," Círdan shot back.

"There is little to be said that might sway you, my Lord, but it is true. We are..." You listened as Elrond took a sharp inhale, "We are friends, nothing more. Our foundation lays in companionship, we exchange letters - share our thoughts, ideas, and feelings. There's nothing more."

Círdan hummed in amusement, "That so? Then... Why, in the past 6 months, have you come here - what is it? Six? Seven times?"

"Eight," Elrond corrected automatically, wincing when your grandfather chuckled and you lowered your hand. Yet you did not walk away yet.

"You claim business with the High King brings you to us so frequently," Círdan continued, "yet, the matters discussed can be solved through letters alone. Nothing that deems an emissary. So, tell me in truth... Why?"

"My Lord?"

"Why do you come? I know it is not for Gil-Galad alone, so, tell me in truth, why the frequent trips?"

You could hear Elrond resume his wood carving and you became acutely aware of your position. Backing away, you fled the scene, petrified over the idea of being caught; yet your mind was stuffed full with what you heard. It'd been years since you first met Elrond, the young, fresh, baby-faced Herald of the High King; and while initially fascinatingly attracted to him, you were detrimentally shy.

Like, so shy, it makes you mute - to an extent.

He wasn't a Herald yet, though, and came to apprentice under your grandfather. Elrond became a constant presence around the Grey Havens - a talented, shining star of a student who studied diligently. You admired his work from afar at first, then, Círdan asked you to row one of Elrond ships around the harbor.

It was well known you were the apple of Círdan's eye; his favorite thing in the material world, the reason he refused to give himself over to the Valar yet. He was supposed to sail... But his daughter was soon to give birth, so he waited; and thankfully, because plague claimed your father and mother from complications of your birth. So, Círdan raised you.

Elrond panicked at Círdan's request, stepping into your pathway without thought and gasping, "No!" You shied back into your grandfather's side, the dark haired Elf amending swiftly, "I apologize, I-I did not mean to be so - so abrupt. But... Let me work a few more days, ensure it is to perfection."

You smiled gently and nodded, Círdan smirking and leading you away - the start of a formal friendship. After testing Elrond's boat (when ready), you sent him a note that expressed your impression and complimenting his woodworking skills, even saying you looked forward to his future creations.

His first letter back to you was one of thousands, and the start of his Heraldry.

Yet now, in present day, you wondered if these letters weren't enough and if he thought you untruthful in your declaration of affection. While your companionship had now lasted decades, you were still insecure enough that you lose wit, cheek, and tongue when he's around. And now, the past half a year, you've seen him eight times and couldn't muster your courage, and perhaps, it wasn't enough for Elrond anymore.

You just expressed yourself better in words! And you didn't leave Círdan's side; you did not venture around Middle-earth, never left your sanctuary. You adored Elrond's accounts of adventures and travels and work, it was your only time to "live", even if vicariously.

Now, worriment set in; anxious that you weren't enough.

"Ah," Círdan hummed as he and Elrond entered your humble home for supper, "it smells divine in here, sweet girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, setting the table for the meal as Elrond was the one who would not meet your eye.

"I'll be a moment, I need to wash up," he excused himself, always presentable; forever perfect.

You just sighed as he slipped from the room; a typical guest in your home, especially with his...recent increased business from the High King. "You seem pensive," Círdan noted, taking the bowl of salad to the table for you. "Is there anything on your mind you wish to discuss?"

"Nothing of note."

"Then speak to me of something not of note."

"If it is of no note, Grandfather, why give it voice?"

"Because it still takes up room, be it in your head and heart - which gives it validation to speak of."

You paused at the table, finding him grinning, offering an unamused glare. "I told you not to do that," you reprimanded softly.

"Do what?"

"Your - little - your pearls wisdom!" You groaned childishly, collapsing into a chair. "You can let me stew and figure things out for myself, we do not always have to speak of matters. It is an unfair advantage that I am inundated with your pearls and others toil for direction!"

Círdan chuckled, folding his hands before his dinner plate. "To complain of such an advantage is - "

"I know."

"Then why do it?"

"Because..."

"You are frustrated with your own emotion that you refuse to give life to?"

With a huff, you nodded, "Exactly."

"What is the matter?"

Your head shook in deflection, "Perhaps, I am just overwhelmed. I think I'll take a walk - "

"But supper - "

"I'll eat later," you promised, reaching out to lay your hand on his and smile, "I just need a few moments to breathe. Eat, enjoy, I'll find you later."

You left before another word could be spoken. When Elrond reentered the kitchen, he only found Círdan and wondered, "Where's Y/N?"

"She seemed distraught, saddened by something. She decided to go for a walk, clear her head a bit."

"Right," Elrond nodded, feeling awkward just standing there.

"Come, sit, eat," Círdan invited with a small smirk, "she's probably gone off to the workshop, she likes to write there. Says it's more inspiring than the library. Come, Elrond... She'll be awhile."

Elrond frowned and looked to the door, Círdan knowing his words were replaying in the half-Elf's mind. "Perhaps I should check on her?" He asked his old Master. "It would be wrong to eat without the chef, would it not?"

"I was thinking the same," the older, greying Elf nodded, "though you waste your time, that girl is stubborn - trapped in her mind too often."

"How do you mean?"

"It's why she writes," Círdan explained, "at least, why she writes you, I imagine. She often loses her voice, feels as if she is not entitled to it's very being - so, she writes, uses her words... And seemingly, you understand them best - relate to her, in a way. So," he took a breath, "go, if you wish, but know, she's unlikely to speak."

Elrond was out the door before Círdan could uncork the bottle of wine left on the table. He smirked to himself, musing, "Oh, these kids..."

You had left your home and made a beeline for your grandfather's workshop, shutting the doors with a great big breath of relief before groaning in emotional frustration. "Oh, how silly!" You snipped to yourself, "This is all so silly, it makes no sense! I mean, the way I just shut down? It's so silly! Losing my voice? Over a man? Oh, just rubbish!" Your hands shook out violently. "I just need to say it, you know? I just need to say it - then he knows, he'll know and I can get rid of this silly feeling. He deserves to hear me say it, else he might think he's unwelcome, he might not want to visit..." You were unaware of Elrond approaching the door, opening it as you groaned once more, "OH! He's just a lad! He's just like you, you silly lass! Well, not entirely just like me - but he's just - he's just Elrond! What is there to fear!?"

"Is there someone else here I should address?" Elrond smirked gently as he stepped forward to make himself known, "Or do you often speak of me, to yourself?"

You squeaked and came to a halt, dress twirling around your ankles when you spun to face him. Hands came together, instantly threading your fingers and wringing them together nervously as your visitor smiled gently and slowly (so slowly) stepped forward. With a deep breath, you greeted, "Lord Elrond."

"Oh, please," he sighed, "are we not past formalities?"

"Far beyond," you agreed, shaking your head and facing the open wall that showcased the harbor and horizon; the last of the sunlight streaking the sky with water-painted color.

"It felt wrong to indulge on such a gorgeous creature without the architect being there to experience it first," he told you, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with respectable distance still between you. "Yet you fled before..."

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, feeling suffocated briefly, "I could not linger."

"Is there a reason to feel unwelcome in your own home?"

You took a breath, "Well, um, it's just - it's you... You are the reason..."

Elrond startled, "What? I-I'm sorry, what have I done? What did I do?"

"You're you," you turned to him, "and that's not your fault, but you're you, and it drives me to insanity."

"I don't think I follow? I thought - in our letters, I thought we had a connection. That we understood one another...? And now that I'm here, you shy away from me, have I truly offended you so gravely?"

"No, Elrond, you have not offended me - it's the opposite," you risked your own comfort and reached out for his bicep first; which, in turn, made him step closer. "You are not betrayed, nor are you mistaken. There's a connection, of course there is. I do not know anyone who could fake such affection for such an extended period of time," you scoffed.

"Perhaps Sauron - "

"But you nor I are he."

"No," Elrond smiled gently, shifting his arms downward to hold your elbows and caress you into his chest as your hands were rearranged to his chest, "we are not, thank the Valar."

"I do not deceive you. The affection I hold for you, it's authentic and genuine. It's real, Elrond, it's real..."

"It is?" He asked, lifting a hand to hold your jaw; thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

"It is. I was just... You disarm me. You make me small again, you make me tongue-tied, confused, excited - like everything is new again. And it both scares and invigorates me that I do not know what to do in those moments, so I hide from you. In your letters, I can plan my words; but when you're here, in front of me, under my hands," you cooed, petting his velvet tunic, "I lose my nerve. My senses..."

Elrond chuckled, hands drifting down to hold you by the base of your ribcage, "This... This is a relief to hear. I worried I offended you, that I had upset you in some way. That I ruined this before it had a chance to take shape."

"Hardly," you mused. "I lose my nerve around you, I feel so silly - so young and green to love..."

"'Love'?" He repeated.

"Oh, I just - I only meant - "

"Take comfort in the fact that the feeling is mutual, my sweet." Elrond chuckled, caressing your cheek lovingly, "I fear the High King may grow tired of me asking to personally deliver Círdan his letters."

"Perhaps I will have to find reason to visit you?"

"I would like that, perhaps more than I should admit," he whispered, slowly lowering his lips onto yours for a much awaited kiss - giving you every opportunity to back out, but it's not like you ever would. Not when you've waited for this for so long. His hand now cupped your jaw, sliding sweetly towards the back of your neck. Kissing Elrond was everything you thought: soft, gentle, evenly-paced, commandeering, all encompassing, and mind-numbing; you never wanted this to end, you never wanted to stop kissing him.

However, your moment was cut short by a loud crunching; pulling back as Elrond did, both turning to the main doors to spy your grandfather, Círdan, standing there smugly. He was holding a bowl made of bamboo, eating a crisp salad, barely holding back his grin. Upon seeing his mirthful expression, you deflated into Elrond's chest; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you anchored in place while the other dropped to open his stance - proving he didn't feel defensive.

"Grandfather?" You questioned softly.

"Mh," he swallowed his bite, "don't mind me, just appreciating the fruits of my labor."

"I beg your pardon?" You laughed.

Círdan shrugged, "You are both young and intelligent. Wise. Insightful," he listed, "yet you are so naïve to think this union was yours alone."

Elrond glanced down at you in confusion, brows furrowed, asking, "What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Grandfather, it was Elrond and I who penned letters for decades - "

"Indeed," Círdan agreed, "but why do you think the High King has sent Lord Elrond to us so often these past few months?"

You were both stunned into silence, Elrond asking, "You? You asked him to...to send me?"

"I did," Círdan nodded, "it is disheartening to see my granddaughter, whom I love so utterly and dearly, driven into isolation because emotions can be so complicated and difficult. It was time for you two to finally confront your emotions, and after three months, we both knew we had to up our efforts..."

"The High King was in on this!?" You squeaked, feeling embarrassment seize your heart.

"You know, despite being High King, Gil-Galad is still fun," Círdan defended with a smirk. "So, he devised new engagements to send Elrond here for - giving the two of you longer days together between my responses. He agreed to send Herald Elrond himself here upon my encouragement. From your first interaction, I saw what you two have always felt. It's good of you to admit your feelings, is it not? Relieving, I mean?"

"Terribly," you agreed, Elrond rubbing your waist in support.

"Well, then you'll be happy to know, I've begun my response to Gil-Galad, so you'll have a few more days here, Elrond. I expect that boat done," he teased, "and upon your return to Lindon, I will be sending my granddaughter to accompany you as my own emissary."

"What for?" You breathed in shocked happiness, lips turning up brightly.

"It is time you begin a new education, my girl," he grinned, "and the High King has granted his blessing."

"Why would the High King be involved for my education?"

"I want you on a tour of Middle-earth," he explained, "meeting dignitaries, taking notes on what you see, hear, experience. I want detailed accounts, my girl, for our records so the King has agreed to send Herald Elrond to guide your tour."

"You've done all of that... For me?" You couldn't help the tears that sprung to your eyes, pure glee lightening your heart and head. Then, a sudden thought made you worry, "Why? Do you wish to away with me?"

"On the contrary," Cirdan set aside his bowl and approached you, Elrond letting go so you two could meet in the middle of the workshop, "I despise the idea of letting you go, even to carry my work back to the High King... Knowing you'll return shortly... But sending you on this tour is a necessity, sweet girl, because I only trust your written accounts. It's time... It's time for you to see the world I've long protected you from as it truly is and bring us back update records and accounts, and who better to show it to you than Elrond Peredhel?" He smiled, looking over your shoulder at his ex-student. You felt Elrond near your flank, Círdan looking at the two of you fondly; even reaching out to caress your cheek as he breathed in deeply. "What joy my heart feels, knowing you two have found one another."

"What joy we feel you decided to play matchmaker," you chuckled.

"Well, they say perfection only exists in Valinor, but I was determined to challenge that."

part two: The Risk

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[rottmnt-residuum]

Hi, I've read the Residuum comic, and I think the characterization of the boys is really good. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to write them? Especially Mikey, please.

I'd actually recommend re-watching the show with one character in mind. All my notes on the turtles come from doing separate re-watches for each of them. The key is to ONLY watch the character you are focusing on.

In the end, you'll probably be happier with your own personal interpretation. As we are with ours lol

TL;DR

Massive post under the cut

To preface: we'll be contrasting (this Mikey) against the fandoms version of Mikey, as our interpretation is very different. Don't worry if you prefer the fandom version, there's nothing… wrong per se with writing him this way. We just find him flat and uninteresting. (Main author: not me, I just hate him, lol).

Every reader or fan comes into a story with their own biases and experiences. A ton of our view of Mikey is based on how our siblings acted. We see Mikey as the young sibling that got preferential treatment from the whole family, simply due to being the youngest, but is now aging out of the privilege. Which all youngest siblings do at some point or another.

The fandoms version of Mikey is empathetic, naive, vulnerable, co-dependent and quite often a door mat who cries at the drop of a hat. And as much as the fandom like to say that people love him… when this particular character archetype is in other media, they seem to attract the most criticism. Mable pines, Bolin from Korra, people rag on Aang all the fucking time, and Steven Universe is a whole other bag. These characters don't deserve it, and yet it happens anyway.

To flatten Mikey to simply 'the baby' is a disservice. We don't see or write Mikey as the fandom “baby” version (cinnamon roll uwu). Part of this comes from having multiple siblings, so we interpret the times when Mikey does the puppy dog eyes as typical younger sibling bullshit, mostly by the way that the other turtles rarely react to it, if at all.

The other turtles traits can also get projected onto Mikey. Mikey being the fandom therapist is in the same category as this. He isn't a therapist, he's a psychology nerd who likes to psychoanalyze people and meddle in their relationships. (Donnie and Shelldons relationship, Splinter and Draxums...) he's not trying to resolve your emotional issues. Of the turtles, the character that cares the most about people's feelings is Raph. And Leo is more of a consoler than Mikey ever is. It flattens all the turtle's characterizations when you start doing this because you are ripping out parts that are integral to another characters' complexity.

Co-author has told me that they've seen people become confused when going into the show after only reading fan fiction or coming from the movie. They see his characterization as inconsistent and become upset when their view of him is contradicted. This also happens when a fandomized version of him becomes the primary characterization that they use. Sometimes when this disconnect happens (or if they just don't like the character), Mikey characterization is swung in the complete opposite direction.

They make him manipulative and abusive, or someone who is hyper violent and avoids being held accountable for anything. This is an uncharitable interpretation of him and can come off as pretty racist depending on the circumstances. (like if someone considers the turtles black or not)

Every version of Mikey is a shithead (affectionate), even this one. Especially this one, really. When Mikey not doing the "baby schtick" hes mean. If you pay attention to what he's saying, and just not his tone of voice, he's consistently saying pretty mean or condescending stuff. (You could take this as simply naïveté, but he still says mean shit pretty often regardless)

The times he does say genuinely nice stuff the turtles don't exactly expect it from him, at least, in the early season. And while he is mean, and seems to find saying mean things to be funny, Mikey isn't cruel. Nor will he ever be.

This shit-headery behavior is found in both 2003 and 18 Mikey. They have a degree of social intelligence that lets them use it to annoy people into doing what they want. 18 just has the advantage of being baby faced and having better tonal control. He's good at using people's perception of him to get what he wants.

Let Mikey have his problematic traits, but don't overexaggerate them. He doesn't revel in fooling people. He loves doing character bits, and the baby faced one just happens to be one of them. However, to infantilize or to deem him incompetent is to piss him off, he wants to be viewed as a competent part of the team and competent as an individual. He's not insecure about being young, he just doesn't want to be treated like he can't do anything.

Mikey above all is an optimistic character, he sees the brighter side quite often and is conscious of the harm his actions have on people. Mostly after the fact, but he consistently attempts to rectify the harm he has personally done to peoples lives. (Todd, Bullhop, Draxum). Food and shelter seems to be a thing that he considers to be a right. He doesn't cross a boundary twice once he learns of it, and he never pushes people too far (if he likes you, that is. if he doesn't know you or doesn't like you, he doesn't give a singular shit. But that is standard to most people.). He doesn't care about people's stuff, though. He breaks things all the time.

Mikey understands boundaries, but he doesn't automatically recognize them. He needs them to verbalized or for there to be a very obvious reaction to the boundary being crossed (unfortunately, for Todd and Donnie). Sometimes people mess up (esp. younger people), and it can take a while for teens to learn where boundary is, but he fully respects the boundaries he does know about. He doesn't act petulant when he's told about boundary, he apologizes, accepts it, and moves on. He doesn't dwell.

Mikey doesn't hold on to distressing emotions. He bounces between emotions quickly, but isn't effected in the long run. One thing Iv'e seen people often conflate is the difference between sensitive and vulnerable. Mikey is sensitive, but I have never seen him vulnerable to others. To be sensitive is to be easily influenced by the current situation. To be vulnerable is to hold that influence for a long time. Characters can have one, both, or neither of these traits. But Mikey is not vulnerable. It is the difference between compressing memory foam and a piece of metal until they deform. One will pop back, the other does not.

Those who are vulnerable but not sensitive will take longer to effect, but once you do, they will hold on to that emotion for a very long time. The vulnerable, are grudge holders. (leo). But like I've said, Mikey bounces back. What a character does has an effect on his emotions, but it doesn't make a lasting impression.

Forgiveness is another thing people like to push on him. It is not that Mikey forgives people easily, it's just that he doesn't hold grudges. He neither forgives nor forgets, but he does not ruminate. He's generally affable, first impressions seem to be a big part of how he views people. He is idealistic, and doesn't assume people are unchanging and/or evil, but he's not a mark.

Mikey isn't so much as naive or overly trusting… it's just that he's inexperienced. He doesn't get fooled by anyone in the series except meat sweats, and that's because Meatsweats is on Todd drugs. Mikey just didn't notice when he started faking. He's not… actually all that aware of people's emotional states, passively. He has to tune in to notice things like that.

Mikey isn't someone who really tries to regulate others emotions, either. The fandom like to make Mikey afraid of his brothers fighting and others being upset, but Mikey doesn't actually care. The most distressed we ever see him in a fight is in the movie, and he's not SCARED, he's just concerned (and then alarmed once it turned physical). If anything, outside extenuating circumstances (like the movie), Mikey actually seems to find their fights annoying.

(Mikey actually seems to have a pretty short fuse, but his bounciness doesn't really let it linger very long, lmao)

(One pet peeve of fandom Mikey is the constant crying, crying at fights, crying at insults, crying for no reason all the time. Sure, he tears up when he gets emotional, but when Mikey is genuinely crying It's when he's desperate, like when he's hungry, or when he's trying to save Leo from certain doom. Same thing, really.)

Mikey respects no one (we love him for this). He admires people, he admires his family: April, the turtles, his dad, Lou Jitsu. He admires Rupert Swaggert, but he respects none of them. No one is sacrosanct to the Mikey.

Above all, the way we write characters is to give them a past that informs how they act now. We view Mikey and the other turtles as teenagers that were kids, and that will be adults. Yes they all have “problematic” traits, but 1) good characters need flaws, and controversial traits are one of the best to use, and 2) they're teenagers, don't expect adult behaviors from them, also don't expect them to be kids. They're minors, not toddlers.

This is getting as long enough as it is, so we'll stop here, but this is a very broad overview of how we characterize him. There's a lot we didn't cover here, but if we even started on hobbies, or the real minutia of his quirks and ticks, or even how he feels about other specific characters... we'd be here all day. So I hope this is good enough lol

If there was something you wanted to know in particular, you'll need to get specific. Feel free to ask again ahahh

[dimensionhoppinghare]

Dib also gets headcanons that are trying to make him look better, not just Zim:

"Dib would never betray anyone!"

"He only started acting out when Zim showed up, it's all the latter's fault that the former's classmates don't believe him."

"Everyone only hates Dib because he believes in the paranormal!"

"Gaz is always harassing Dib for no reason."

"Dib would never act like that, it's just Zim's interpretation!" (Dib's Wonderful Life of Doom)

"Dib would never any circumstences get to the point to kill Zim, unlike Zim!" (Zib)

"Dib never starts things"

One of my least favorite things in fandoms is when people make headcanons or scenarios to make a “good” character seem so much worse than they actually are; while also making headcanons and  scenarios of “Bad” characters to make them more justified for their actions.

[eetherealgoddess]

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.

[sassydefendorflower]

I want to talk about something. I want to talk about ableism in fandom. And sexism in fandom. Oh, and racism in fandom.

Mostly though, I wanna talk about how the discussion about these things often gets derailed because people don't understand what trends and typical behaviors actually are.

Whenever a Person of Color, a woman, someone disabled, someone queer (or an intersection of any of these groups) points out that certain fandom trends are bigoted in some shape or form, half the replies seem to be "but they are my comfort character! Maybe people just like them better because they are more interesting!" or even "people are allowed to have headcanons!" - the very daft even go for a "don't bring politics into fandom" which is a personal favorite because nothing exists in a vacuum and nothing is truly apolitical. But alas~

What most of these replies seemingly fail to understand is something very, very simple: it's not about you.

You, as an individual, are just one datapoint in a fandom. You are not the trend. You do not necessarily depict the typical behavior.

When someone points out that there is racism in fandom, that doesn't mean every fan is racist or perpetuating racist ideas*. By constantly mentioning your own lack of racism, quite often, you are actively derailing the conversation away from the problems at hand.

When someone names and describes a trend, they don't mean your headcanon specifically - they mean the accumulated number of headcanons perpetuating a harmful or outdated idea.

I am not saying this to forbid anyone from writing fics about their favorite characters or to keep anyone from having fun headcanons and sharing their theories and thoughts - quite the opposite actually. A critique of a general trend is not a critique of you as an individual - and you're going to have a much better, and more productive, time online if you can internalize that. If you stop growing defensive and instead allow yourself to actually digest the message of what was pointed out.

I am saying this to encourage some critical thinking.

Allow me to offer up some examples:

Case 1: A DC blogger made the daring statement that maybe Tim and Jason were such a popular fanfic focus because they are the only two undeniably white batboys. Immediately someone replied saying "no, it's all the fun traumatic situations we can put them in!". Which is an insane statement to make, considering the same can be said for literally ANY OTHER DC Batman and Batfam character.

The original post wasn't anything groundbreaking, they didn't accuse anyone, didn't name any names... but immediately there was a justification, immediately there was a reason why people might like these characters more. No one stopped to take a second and reflect on the current trends in fanfiction, no one considered that maybe this wasn't a declaration against people who like these characters but a thesis depicting the OVERALL trend of fandom once again focusing on undeniably white (and male) characters.

(don't get me started on the racebending of white characters in media that has a big Cast of Color and the implications of that)

Case 2: A meta posted on Ao3 about ableism in the Criminal Minds fandom caught my attention. A wonderful piece, very thoughtful, analyzing certain characterization choices within the fandom through the lens of an actually autistic person. The conclusion they reached: the writing of Spencer Reid as an autistic character, while often charming and comforting, tended to be incredibly infantilizing and at worst downright ableist. They came to that conclusion while CLEARLY stating that the individual fanfic wasn't the problem, but the general fandom trend in depicting this character.

Once again, looking at the replies seemed to be a mistake: while many comments furthered the discussion, there were quite a few which completely missed the point. Some were downright hostile. Because how dare this author imply that THEY are ableist when they write their favorite character using that specific characterization.

It didn't matter that the author allowed room for personal interpretation. It didn't matter that they noted something concerning about the entire fandom - people still thought they were attacking singular people.

Case 3: I wrote a fic about abortion in the FMA(b) fandom (actually I've written a weird amount of fics about abortion in a lot of fandoms, but alas) and I got hate comments for it. Because of that I addressed the bias in fandom against pro-choice depictions of pregnancies. I pointed out that the utter lack of abortion in many omegaverse stories or even mpreg or het romances, painted the picture of an unconscious bias that hurt people for whom abortion was the only option, the best possible ending. The response on the post itself was mostly positive, but I got anon hate.

(which I can unfortunately not show you since I deleted it in the months since)

And I'm not overly broken up about it, but it also underlines my point: by pointing at a general problem, a typical behavior, a larger trend... people feel personally attacked.

This inability to discuss sexism, ableism, racism, transphobia, etc in fandom without people turning defensive and hurt... well, it damages our ability to have these conversations at all.

Earlier I said YOU are not the problem - well, i think part of this discussion is acknowledging that: sometimes YOU are in fact part of the problem. And that's not the end of the world. But you can only recognize yourself as a cog in the machine, if you can examine your own actions, your own biases, your own preferences critically and without becoming defensive.

And, again, this is not to keep you from finding comfort in your favorite characters and headcanons. This is also not to say that I am free of biases and internalized bigotries - I am also very much a part of the system. A part of the problem.

This is so you can comfortably ask yourself "but why is there no abortion in this universe?" or "why are my favorite black characters always the top in my slash ships?" or "why do I write this disabled character as childish and in need of help?" - and sometimes the answer is "because I am disabled and I want comfort", and that's fine too.

There is no one shoe fits all in fiction. There is not a single trope that captures all members of a group. There is no single stereotype that isn't also someone's comfort. No group is a monolith, no experienced all-encompasing (or entirely unique).

There is never a simple answer.

But that doesn't mean you should stop questioning your own biases, your own ideals.

Especially, if you grow defensive if someone points out that a certain trend you engage in might be racist. Or sexist. Or queerphobic. Or fucking ableist.

*this does not mean negate the general anti-blackness perpetuated by most cultures as a result of colonialism and slavery

[pro-crastinate17]

hello!! so im going to try to make a disability inclusive picrew and id like some help making sure i include as much as i can!

the person would be seated and pretty much all of the body would be visible. ill post it when im done!

its mostly focused on phys disabilities, bc i so rarely can find picrews w good diverse mobility aid options, but ofc im including non phys disabilities as well! (sorry for clunky phrasing, im unclear on the preferred term for non phys disabilities so thats the term ive been using)

what i have so far is below the read more. be warned it is a very long list! (every option/category of option i could think of)

if you think i missed something, please recommend it!!! (related note: id much rather get recommended something that is already on the list than miss something!)

category: head

various jaw shapes 

missing jaw 

crooked/misaligned jaw

category: skin

wide range of skin tones, including white/extremely pale (albino) 

freckles, lots of scar variation (including burns), vitiligo, acne, facial hair, eye bags, other skin conditions (trying to make a list)

breathing tubes, masks, bandages 

bindis 

category: eyes 

blue, grey, green, hazel, medium brown, dark brown, black, red 

heterochromia options 

lazy eye options 

clouded eye options 

closed eyes that look like winking and closed eyes that don't 

missing eyes

category: mouth 

general expressions 

variations for color 

variations for cleft lip, scars, facial paralysis 

category: ears 

ear size, shape, missing ears, deformed ears

category: eye/ear accessories 

earrings, earplugs, hearing aids, bone anchored hearing aids, headphones, earmuffs (modifications for missing/deformed ears), cochlear implant

glasses, sunglasses, blue light glasses, eye patches, eye masks/bandages 

category: nose 

various shapes & sizes, bumpy noses, deformed noses  

category: eyebrows 

lots of expression options, thickness options, color options (including white) 

one missing, scarring, eyebrow slits 

category: body 

body types: very skinny, skinny, fat, very fat (options for muscularity too if i can figure out how)

body hair, scarring, freckles, tattoos   

range of missing limbs, deformed limbs, prosthetics   

diabetes patch 

category: hair 

wide range of hairstyles, bangs, and colors 

patchy hair, scalp scarring, receding hairline 

category: head coverings

range of hats, hair accessories, headbands, bandanas    

range of hijabs, turbans, kippot (+ more variation in cultural headwear if theres space)

head bandages 

category: clothes

range of styles and colors 

adaptable to body types (+ breasts), missing/deformed limbs 

category: shoes 

range of styles 

adaptable to body types, missing foot/feet 

category: hand accessories  

gloves, bracelets, rings, nails, wrist braces, splint rings

range of types, adaptable to missing/deformed hands 

category: pins 

range of queer pride flags 

pronoun pins 

animals, fandoms/characters (def muppets, feel free to recommend characters and i'll try to include some of the most popular ones) 

general disability pride, cripplepunk, madpunk, sign union flag, & pin (for systems), specific disabilities (need some help with these, send me specific flags and i’ll include them!) 

category: seat 

chair, manual wheelchair, power chair, spinny chair, throne, rollator, electric scooter 

category: mobility aids 

cane, white cane, crutches (underarm/axillary and forearm), rollator, walker (with and without wheels), electric scooter  

joint braces (shoulder, elbow, knee, ankle, back, others?), joint tape, compression garments 

category: other disability aids

AAC tablets, word cards, glucose monitor, sunflower lanyard, inhaler, medical id bracelet

stoma bag, central line catheter, picc line catheter, heart monitor, breathing tube, feeding tube (nasal and abdominal), tracheostomy 

stim toys/chewelry, stuffed animals, phone 

service animals

[shalotttower]

A Natural Benefit

Title: A Natural Benefit

Fandom: Death Note

Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female)

Summary: L wants to try something new, you want to be left alone. So an offer is on the table, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement after all.

Word count: 2100+

Notes: yandere!L, kidnapped Reader, dub-con kissing, manipulation, captivity, L and Reader were together at Wammy's House

"Would you indulge me?"

Your eyes dart up from the page to his face. L looks at you like he always does ─ an intent yet oddly distant stare that used to make goosebumps appear on your arms. Nowadays you're somewhat re-accustomed to his mannerisms. He doesn't blink much, tends to stand behind your back whenever possible, likes to play with his food and enjoys invading your personal space far too much to be deemed socially acceptable.

His habits are strange but harmless.

"No," you say, just to be contrary.

L is fond of making things sound simple, and then — snap! — the trap is shut, and you find yourself doing a completely different activity than initially expected.

"I want to kiss you."

"N-" You blink and lower your book down, not bothering to mark it. "What?"

"Kissing is an act of physical intimacy between individuals," he says like it's an obvious fact and you're merely slow on the uptake. L's expression doesn't change, neutral despite this being anything but a normal conversation starter even by your standards ─ admittedly low.

"Thank you for enlightening me about the definition," you lean back against the cushions, "still no."

"Why not?" He asks after a momentary pause.

"Because I don't want to."

A simple answer to a weird request. You try to resume reading, but there're other things currently occupying your brain ─ namely the attempts to understand what prompted such inquiry.

L never asked for physical contact before; platonic or otherwise. Sure he tried to entice you into spending time with him through bargain and manipulation, and you pretended to be oblivious enough to earn an Oscar for your acting skills. However, there never was any talk of kissing involved. Any kind of touching, actually.

He hums. "Would you like me to explain my reasons?"

Sometimes you think that the sole cause of L's existence is just so he could annoy people for kicks. His questions are always peculiar, and you've learned that every single one of them is designed to lead towards some specific conclusion, preferably the one he wants. You have a feeling that if you say 'yes', L will proceed to list a hundred points about why kissing is good. And then another hundred why kissing him specifically is beneficial.

"No."

He looks at you. You look at him and raise the book higher.

"Indulging me would benefit both of us," L says, undeterred. "You're very curious by nature and I find it quite fascinating that you're able to deny your curiosity in this particular case."

Has a more obvious bait ever existed anywhere in human history? Probably not, and you'll bet your entire life savings on it too.

"I'm not curious," you lie, "now leave me alone. I want to read."

He leans forward. "You haven't focused on the book since I asked my question."

Smartass. You purse your lips and pretend that the characters are suddenly so interesting, that it's hard to look away from the intricacies of the plot unfolding inside this fictional world. At least things there make sense; no need to figure out the hidden meanings behind other people's words, because they are mostly transparent when there's a whole paragraph dedicated to the protagonist's feelings.

He reminds you of those spider-like creatures from documentaries ─ their actions seem random at first glance, yet upon further scrutiny prove to be anything but. Instead, they're meticulously crafted and executed to obtain maximum results.

L studies you for a little while longer, and eventually pads towards the kitchenette. The kettle whistles soon after as he makes himself tea; mint flavored, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.

______________________________________________________

You should have known that he won't give up ─ L is just as persistent as you are stubborn. If anything, you've set a challenge before him, and he tends to fixate on those until they are solved: a fact well-known and accepted among those who ever had a (dis)pleasure of interacting with him.

He doesn't outright ask you again, not the next day or the one after that. No. Accidentally, the only type of movies you're able to watch now are rom-coms or dramas with lots of kissing scenes sprinkled here and there between the banter bordering on cringe; sweet confessions spoken over candlelit dinners; passionate declarations whispered during sunsets... Clichés, amore, and kisses galore.

"I'm not sure this is the best movie for the evening," you say, as the screen flickers with images of two leads gazing into each other's eyes like they found the answers to every single question asked.

"The reviews are quite positive," L replies, munching on caramel popcorn.

"Reviews can be faked. And the trailer was misleading. I thought it was going to be an action movie."

"It is an action movie. The genres are listed right there," he points at the screen, and the words 'romance and action' stare back at you.

You frown and settle deeper into the couch cushions. It's uncomfortable ─ watching romantic scenes with L in the same room. His presence doesn't feel oppressive or demanding, yet you can't shake off the squirmy, twisty feeling. The kind when you enter an elevator with someone else and get slightly agitated for no reason. And so you try to slow down your breathing, but it only makes things worse. Your heart beats faster, palms start sweating and the hypothetical elevator stranger inevitably thinks that you're weird.

L isn't an elevator stranger. He's the owner of the elevator, and the entire building, and the city.

"He's going to die in the next ten minutes," you mutter.

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will."

L hums. "Want a bet?"

Your eyes narrow.

"If he survives past the fifteen minute mark," L says slowly, "you indulge me."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I leave you alone for two days."

There's no hesitation on his side. None whatsoever, which proves suspicious immediately ─ L never offers something unless certain about the outcome beforehand, whether by logical deduction or calculated gamble. Probability factors run inside his brain instead of blood cells and grey matter, calculating risk vs return ratio quicker than any computer ever could.

You glance at the screen. It's a simple plot. There were a twist or two earlier, sure, but overall nothing extraordinary that would require hours upon hours of critical thinking to unravel.

A man, a woman. A handsome villain who wants them dead, for various reasons. They run and fight, shoot guns, dodge punches, and kiss between those because apparently there's time for romance even when a life is on the line.

It's a very simple plot; and two days are a lot to pretend that L doesn't exist. That you got rich enough to buy this kind of apartment.

"The speakers?"

"Switched off."

"The cameras?"

"Those will stay."

Of course, they will. You wouldn't expect anything less ─ privacy issues are non-existent here in more ways than one.

L isn't always a presence. Sometimes he leaves and you're alone with nothing but books and TV to pass time, but two days sound wonderful regardless. There's something in empty spaces that's enticing, even if they're temporary. L, for all his peculiarities, isn't too bad of a company. He's quiet, and often busy with his own matters. But he also has this way of looking at you that is unnerving. Like you're interesting. Or important. Or simply fascinating.

Sometimes he wants to talk, he wants to listen, he wants to ask questions and give answers until everything blurs into an amalgamation of words. It's exhausting.

Two days sound good. His hand is dry and slender. You grasp it and shake it once.

"I'll start the timer now," L says after your hands separate.

______________________________________________________

Twelve minutes.

Three more and he's dead.

You wish that he'd just kick the bucket already, so you could spend the next forty eight hours in pure, undiluted bliss.

_______________________________________________________

The male lead dies after seventeen minutes.

When the credits roll over, the apartment is silent except for the soft buzzing of electronics. You look at the screen, stubbornly, because you don't want to look at him, the owner of the elevator, and the building, and the city.

"It was close," he comments, as if trying to comfort you, which makes it even more of a sore spot.

That’s what L thrives on ─ technicalities, loopholes, small and seemingly insignificant details which are easily overlooked, yet make a great difference. You're not sure if you're annoyed, or disappointed. And what’s more important ─ at whom.

You have known for years that L tends to get his way eventually whenever there's something specific caught up in that head of his; a fixation which refuses to leave until satisfied, and sometimes even after. Snap. You can get up and head out of the living room, you know you can. Will you though is another question entirely.

L isn't a typical captor ─ he doesn't demand or force you into things. He simply presents a possibility and waits. Not aggressive or domineering, not sadistic. But oh he is a PhD of holding a grudge. Leaving now probably means waking up tomorrow and finding that every single disk has vanished without a trace, along with the bookshelves being switched for some obscure scientific texts on chemistry, physics and other things that require an advanced degree to fully understand.

Because someone decided that you don’t deserve entertainment anymore. Because someone is petty enough to deprive you of basic mental stimuli, and is stubborn enough to hold onto that decision even when reasoned with. Unsuccessfully.

It's a talent really, this particular brand of making your life miserable in many small ways, so they accumulate into something greater over time until you feel like the walls are closing in slowly but surely.

You can't back out, even though no one openly stops you from doing so. And L knows that. And he knows that you know. His lips twitch and curl upward before flattening again into neutral territory.

There's a theory that if you pull a band-aid fast enough, it won't hurt as much. The credibility behind it is questionable.

You exhale and meet L's gaze ─ his posture hasn't changed from the beginning to the end of the film, knees tucked to his chest, eyes two dark pools that stare without blinking. His fingers drum a steady rhythm, and that's probably the only sign that gives it away.

Anticipation.

"Fine," you say finally.

His mouth opens before closing back again. L doesn't move a bit.

He wants you to do it, you realize. Wants you to initiate instead of just allowing it. What an ass.

You squish his cheeks between your palms until his lips pucker outwards. L makes a soft noise of surprise but doesn't try to fight back.

Black lashes cast a shadow across his skin. There's no perfume or cologne, no distinct smell ─ he uses plain soap and shampoo which don't have a discernible aroma.

"I believe I was promised an indulgence," L says, voice muffled a bit by your hands on his face.

He looks like a fish this way. A silly, ridiculous image that would make you snort if not for the situation at hand.

Band-aids and ripping them off.

You sigh, lean forward, and press your mouth to his.

He tastes like caramel popcorn.

Mint tea.

Indulgence.

The angle is awkward, and L doesn't move an inch to accommodate the position. He stays still like a block of solid rock, not a single muscle twitches, and doesn't even attempt to reciprocate. You have half a mind to think that maybe he's mocking you, but then his fingers lightly curl on the fabric of his jeans. L's eyelids flutter half-closed when your noses bump, then open again right after. Another oddity added to the pile.

It lasts no longer than ten seconds before you pull away. L blinks. Touches his lower lip with the tip of a finger and rubs it like searching for traces left by the contact.

"You were promised an indulgence," you remind him, trying to sound calm, collected, but your ears and neck feel hot, "not a make-out session."

Technicalities and loopholes.

L has that look you can't quite pinpoint yet know far too well. You've seen it many times before. When he thinks about something but keeps it to himself for now.

"You look more lively," he remarks eventually. "Healthy complexion suits you."

You don't need to hear what he says next, because the words already ring through your head.

"I told you it would benefit us both."