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Hey!! Would you do a sub!billy hargrove/dom!reader smut? Thank u <3
Boy Next Door (NSFW)
S3 spoilers in my author’s note, and vague reference to how S2 ends!!
Link to Part 2 <3
Summary: You’ve lived in the trailer park nearly your entire life, long enough to know that nothing in Hawkins was ever normal. So when the new king of the school starts dropping by your trailer at ungodly hours, you don’t even blink - why would you? Weirder shit’s happened here, and you’re certainly not complaining either, not when the king decides to get on his knees for you.
Warnings: swearing, smut, dom!reader, reader has an undefined hole, p in said undefined hole, sub!billy, oral (reader receiving), frottage(?), edging, praise, little bits of degradation (reader calls billy “slut” and talks condescendingly at some points), unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it kids!!), a lil bit of a breeding kink, billy likes when reader pulls on his hair <3
Let me know if you think I missed anything!!
All characters are over 18 :)
Oh my god anon I didn’t know I needed sub!billy until you sent this in and now I’m scouring the website for more… I’m a whore for subby men, what can I say 🤷 He’s a little ooc but I firmly believe that billy is secretly a soft with people he trusts - sure, he’s mean to max, but I think that’s because he doesn’t want her involved in his life of alcohol and flirting - and I’ll die on that hill. This is set between S2 and S3, but in my universe billy doesn’t die during S3 anyways because I’m the author and I said so >:O Anyways, I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request!! It takes like 1000 words to get to the smut, I’m so sorry ;-; But the smut is like 2000 some words, so hopefully that makes up for it ahaha I went batshit
– – –
You’ve lived in this dinghy trailer park in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, your entire conscious life. When your parents were really drunk (which, in all honesty, was far more often than you were willing to admit) they would talk about their “golden days”: when your parents were something other than full-time alcoholics, living in the suburbs of Cleveland in a nice neighbourhood. You were told you were born there, in that nice suburb house near the coast of one of the great lakes, but you’ve never had the nerve to ask what happened that landed them here, in Hawkins.
But Ohio was none of your concern now. There were supernatural beings practically on your doorstep and the only people that seemed to care were the children that your friend Steve seemingly adopted, which would make for a good movie. But the fact that a ragtag bunch of kids were the ones saving your very real world left a nauseating pit in your stomach. Sure, the angry buzz cut kid who they called “Eleven” put an end to the last thing that came after Hawkins, but something tells you this was just the beginning. No matter. At the moment, you had bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that there’s a soft knocking on your door, despite the little analog clock reading a blinking “2:34am”.
Peering through the peephole, a clearly drunk Billy Hargrove stood, wobbling slightly. You’d seen him around school - it’s hard not to when he drives a flashy car and insists on poking at Steve - but certainly hadn’t spoken to him before. Opening the door slightly, you make eye contact with the man in question.
“Hi,” you say, tentatively. “Can I help you?”
“l/n!!” he slurs, eyes lighting up. “What’re y’doin in my trailer?”
You frown at him. “This is where I live, dipshit. Your trailer is more than a few down.”
“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he said, nudging at you. “Lemme in, will ya?”
You stood firm, skeptical. “Why should I?”
“Because,” he drawls. “You’re pretty, I’m pretty, we should do pretty people stuff together.”
You snort, but move to the side. You didn’t know what his home life was like, but, nevertheless, sending him away in the middle of the night, piss drunk, was dumb. If he had gotten hurt on the way back to his trailer because you had sent him away you would never forgive yourself. Sure, he seemed like a pretentious douchebag, but even pretentious douchebags deserve a chance. Besides, the ‘rents were out, which meant there wouldn’t be any “did you use protection?” or “you aren’t pregnant, are you?” questions the following morning.
“l/n,” Billy whined out, making you turn in time to see him flop onto your couch. “Why aren’t we doin’ pretty people stuff yet?”
You shut and lock the door, plopping yourself down on the floor in front of the couch in an attempt to set an unspoken boundary. “Because you’re drunk. You’re welcome to come over here sober some time and try this whole song and dance then, but I believe in full consent when doin’ that tango. You’re inebriated, so no ‘pretty people stuff’ for you tonight.”
He whined dramatically. “But that’s half the fun of getting drunk!!”
“God, you’re really drunk,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the smell. “We can talk if you want, but you’re not getting any tonight, lover boy.”
“Ooooh, you wanna hear about the crazy shit that Tina did at the party today??” – – –
This became a recurring event. Billy would go out and party, then come over, drunk out of his mind and strangely soft. You had learned a lot about him - about Max (who he seemed to truly care about, despite how he acted when sober), about his dickhead father, about his mother, about why he drowned himself in people and alcohol all the time. You weren’t sure why he chose to keep dropping by, but you weren’t too perturbed. In any other situation, you might even consider him your friend. But, you remind yourself, he’s always drunk or high or some combination of the two. You don’t make friends when you’re drunk. And you certainly don’t fall for them, either.
A knock resonated at your door and you froze, staring at the clock. It was 3:24pm on a Saturday afternoon, unless Steve had decided to give you a surprise visit there should be no one at the door.
“l/n! Open the goddamn door,” a voice rang out, one that you recognized immediately. “I don’t have all goddamn day!”
You stumble to the door, opening it embarrassingly quickly. “Hi???”
“Hey,” he said, shoving his way past you.
“Wait wait wait,” you said, spinning around to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What I normally do, dickbag,” Billy said, refusing to make eye contact. “We gonna talk or what?”
You close the door gently, clicking the lock almost tentatively. “You’re sober.”
A flash of hurt crossed his face, but he quickly covered it up. “Am I not allowed to be?”
“That - that’s not what I’m saying!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I just - I kinda figured you didn’t want to talk to me, normally. I’m not exactly your usual crowd.”
He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Look - how do I say this? I… don’t think you’re that shitty, or whatever. Sure, Tina’s a hot piece of ass, but if I tried to actually, I don’t fucking know, talk to her, she’d just laugh and tell me to ‘shut up’ or somethin’.”
“I don’t think you’re that shitty, either,” you say, slowly. “Is that all you wanted to talk about…? We could’ve done this on the porch.”
“It’s a trailer, there’s no goddamn porch,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes but still not making eye contact with you.
“You’re dodging,” you say, walking over to him and crowding him a bit. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“I don’t want to go back home,” he said bluntly, still dodging your prying eyes. “Deadbeat dad is on a rampage again. Dropped Max off at the arcade and found myself here.”
You blink up at him and back up a bit, feeling awful for prying. “Shit man - sorry I pushed you. You’re welcome here whenever you want to escape your place, sober or not. Or if you just want to come over. You can bring Max, too, she seems nice!! My ‘rents are never around, like ever, and even when they are they’re drunk and hiding in their room, and there’s a key under the doormat in the back if you need an escape and I’m not here - though I’d be careful about my parents, they get pretty drunk sometimes too, it’s not pretty. That’s not the point though! Point is, you’re always welcome, I’m sorry for prying-”
He pushed you to the couch, a small smile on his face, and were his eyes a little teary?? “Shut up, loser. I got it, I’m welcome to be here. Not shocked, though, people love me, of course you’d want me around.”
You roll your eyes at his smirk, trying to tug him down to the couch. However, you hadn’t anticipated him resisting, and your knee jerk reaction was to just yank. He stumbled and landed on top of you, knees straddling your legs. He blinks at you, owlishly, face flushed and pupils beginning to dilate.
You grin up at him, jokingly winking. “Just where I wanted you, baby.”
“Can I- can I take you up on your previous offer?” he said, voice lacking its usual bravado and confidence.
“Previous offer as in…?”
“Sex,” he said, straightforward. “You said if I was sober we could fuck.”
“What eloquence, Mr. Hargrove,” you said. “And I believe we referred to it as ‘pretty people stuff.’”
“That’s a yes, yeah?” he said, hands resting on the couch on either side of your head.
“Aw, look at you, asking for consent,” you said, grinning up at him deviously. “Mmm…maybe if you beg me.”
He looked at you, incredulous. “If you think I’ll ever beg for something, you’ve got something coming-”
You cut him off, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. He groaned into the kiss, grinding down into your clothed sex. When he pulls away, he smirks down at you, cocky.
“You’re going to be the one begging for me, babe,” he said, head tilting. “So how ‘bout we hear it, hm?”
Well that wouldn’t do. Using all your strength, you flip your positions, grinding down on him once you’ve settled above him.
“If we’re doing this, baby boy,” you said, sultry. “We’re doing this my way, got it?”
You could see the struggle in his eyes, and began to grind down on him lightly.
“Come on, sweet thing,” you murmured against his lips, rolling your hips in a way that had his eyes rolling back. “You can be good for me, can’t you?”
“Mm- yeah, yes, I can be good for you,” he groaned. “Now get on with it, will you?”
You frown at him, faux pouting. “Thought you were gonna be good. But that’s fine, we can play that game, I don’t mind.”
He opened his mouth to object but was cut off when your grinding turned harsh and fast, his words turning into a breathy moan. He slapped a hand over his mouth but you weren’t having it.
“Listen here, Hargrove,” you growled. “You’re going to let me hear those pretty little sounds or you’re not going to come. Understand?”
“No way in hell-”
You reach a hand down to his straining cock and squeeze, hard, revelling in the way his head rolls back and his hips jerk up into your hand. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and you lean your weight onto your knees so you can shove your fingers that aren’t cradling his cock right down his throat. He gags, eyes glazed and unfocused.
“God, look at you,” you groan, voice strained. “Made for this, made for me to use, huh?”
He tries to respond but all that comes out are choked moans, drool dribbling down his chin as he gags on your fingers. You other hand kickstarts, rubbing him not-so-nicely through his pants. He looked gorgeous like this: choking on your fingers, eyes unfocused, hips bucking uncontrollably into your harsh touches. God, you just want to drown yourself in the feeling of the power you had over this man, this man who insisted on so much control in his everyday life. But here he was, on your couch, gagging on your fingers like he never wanted anything else.
His bucking gets more erratic and his breaths get shorter, signalling an incoming orgasm. You paw at his cock a little harder, removing your fingers from down his throat so you could hear him when you tear his orgasm away from him.
“You wanna cum, baby?” you coo, letting your hips take over for your hand and grinding down on his clothed erection. “Wanna cum for me?”
“Yeah - gonna cum, gonna cum, let me cum-”
“No.”
His hips jolt upwards as you lift yourself from his lap, chasing after your heat. You smirk sadistically at him, chuckling at the glare he gives you in exchange for your denial.
“What the fuck?!” he yells, hands clenching at his sides (but not moving to change his predicament, you noted). “I was so fucking close, why would you-”
You put a finger on his lips, shushing him. “You were a brat earlier, so I’m treating you like one. Maybe if you get me off I will consider letting you come.”
“Yeah?” he said, still panting from his lost orgasm. “Yeah, I can fuckin’ do that.”
“Good,” you say, getting up. “Get on your knees in front of the couch.”
He snorted at first, but his face contorted when he realised you were serious. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re not going to get me on my knees, sweetheart.”
“Then you’re not going to cum,” you said matter-of-factly. “Eat me out on your knees like the little slut you are or you don’t get to cum.”
His nose scrunched up angrily but he moved to get down in front of the couch. “There. That make your sick little heart happy?”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a mouthy brat we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you said, discarding your pants and undergarments god knows where. “Don’t touch without permission, m’kay?”
He growled but kept his hands obediently at his side. In spite of all his back talk, Billy didn’t ever make a move to take control. He wants this, you realise, but he doesn’t want to admit it.
“How cute,” you coo, pinching his cheek as you settle yourself in front of him. “Now eat me out - no hands though, baby. Just put your pretty little mouth to better use for me, mhm?”
He begrudgingly folds his hands behind his back and buries himself in your hole. Your head rolls back, a low groan escaping your mouth. If he wasn’t drowning himself in you he might see your composure slipping, but he seemed just as out of it as you. Hips jerking up into nothing, hands clasped behind his back, face red and teary, Billy looked like so fucking good that you felt yourself clenching around his tongue, rolling your hips into his lapping.
“God… so good with that tongue, baby, shit - keep doing that, y-yeah, just like that,” you blabber out, a hand flying to grip at his hair. You give an experimental tug and grin when he moans, breathy and high.
“Y-yeah? You want me to tug on your - ngh - hair? Shove you deeper into me?” you say, chuckling lowly when he nods into you. “Your wish is my command, sweet thing.”
You could feel your orgasm drawing nearer as Billy’s talented tongue ruined your insides. His movements were precise, even without the use of his hands, and when he nicked your sweet spot you came, clamping your thighs around his head as you tugged harshly on his hair.
Panting, you try to regain enough composure to address Billy. “God, sweetheart, your so fucking good with your tongue.”
“Yeah?” he said, tone cocky despite the straining bulge in his jeans. “You gonna let me use you now? I know you want it darlin’, you can’t keep pretending to have contr - mph!”
You yanked him up in a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Your legs were a little shaky from your previous orgasm but you were stubborn: there’s no way in hell after all this you would give Billy the satisfaction of fucking into you.
“Get on the goddamn couch,” you said, panting as you pulled away. “I’m going to ride you until all you can think of is me.”
“Fuck, pretty thing,” he groans, dropping onto the couch. “You better hold true to that or I might have to take over.”
“If you think you have a say in how this goes you’re dead wrong,” you said, straddling his hips. “You don’t cum until I say, got it baby?”
“Easy peasy,” he said, ever the fucking brat. “Think you can hold it sweets? Because I can guarantee that you’ll be creaming around my cock in no time.”
“Mhm,” you murmur, unimpressed as you help him wiggle out of his jeans and underwear. “Whatever you need to help you sleep at night.”
“You scared you can’t take it - shit!” he moans, cock twitching as you sink down on him in one slide. “Fuck, you gotta give a man a warning-”
You don’t. Bouncing up and down on his cock at a harsh pace, your trailer is filled with the lewd sound of skin slapping skin. You’re sure the neighbours can tell what you two are doing - hell, the whole trailer park probably knew - but you didn’t have the heart to care. His cock stretched you wide, so goddamn girthy that every bounce had white bouncing at the edge of your vision.
Billy wasn’t much better. He had a death grip on your hips, finger-shaped bruises already forming. Tongue sticking out, eye half-lidded and staring up at you reverently, Billy was a fucked out mess already and you’d just started.
“Mmngh, feelin’ good, pretty boy? God… just look at you, takin’ - ungh - t-takin’ it so goddamn well, shit,” you said, still slamming yourself down on his cock like your life depended on it.
“Mmm, fuck, please, please please please-”
You couldn’t even tell what he was begging for anymore. “What do you - ngh - what do you need, babe - fuck, just like that pretty thing - huh? Got to be specific, darlin’ - god…”
“Cum,” he moans out, eyes shut tightly as he bucks into you. “Need t’ fuckin’ cum!”
You clench around him as he bucks, eyes rolling back a bit. “Ngh, yeah? You wanna cum? Wanna fill my pretty little hole - ahn, do that again, jesus - fill my pretty little hole with your cum?”
“Yeah, shit. Gonna let me?”
“Mhmm, I don’t know…” you said, pretending to ponder like you weren’t desperate to feel him fill you up. “Have you been - jesus fucking christ - have you been good?”
“‘ve been good!!” he wails, eyes teary as he stares up at you. “Been so good, such a good boy, please let me cum, please, jus’ wanna be you good boy, please please please!”
Your eyes roll back. Fuck, you hadn’t expected him to beg in return. Slowing down a bit, your bounces send him slow and deep, causing you to clench. His eyes cross and his grip on the couch turns his knuckles white, trying so goddamn hard to hold himself back.
“You can cum,” you groan, his cock rutting against your sweet spot just right. “You can cum, baby, cum with me, want you to cum with me-”
Your vision goes white and you clench, gripping his cock harshly. He near screams, fucking himself up into you as he came. You both melt into each other, a panting, post-orgasm mess tangled on the couch. When your brain was finally back online, you winch, gently sliding his softened cock out of you.
“Fuck, really did a number on me,” Billy murmured, ragdolled on the couch looking like he never wanted to move. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Fuck off, Hargrove,” you say, trying your best to walk (or waddle, rather) your way to the kitchen to start cleaning off.
“You love me and you know it!”
You roll your eyes, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it. God, he was such a doofus. You couldn’t believe that the rest of the school considered him the king, but maybe your friendship was something special. You sure hoped so - you were certain he wasn’t just submitting himself to anyone, after all.
“Where the fuck did you go, dickhead? The great Billy Hargrove demands cuddles!”
God, he was such a dork sometimes. You snort, but make your way back to the living room, water bottle and damp washcloth in hand.
“Have patience, great Billy,” you said, handing him the water bottle before gently cleaning him up. “Great things come for those who wait.”
“Oh shut up,” he said, melting into your touch. “I didn’t come here for you to philosophise.”
“Course, course,” you say, jokingly. “Okay, all done. Let’s pick up all our shit and go to my room, yeah? Really don’t want my parents to come home and find us naked in the living room.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re boring,” he jokes, wobbly as he stands to help you grab your discarded clothes. “Half the fun is getting caught.”
“Perv,” you shot back.
“Says the one who rode me on their parents' couch.”
“Ew!! Don’t fucking say that, I don’t want to think about my parents in the afterglow!”
“You’re the one who brought them up!” “Yeah, because I don’t want them involved in my post-orgasmic haze!!” you say, exasperated. “Cmon, this way.”
Dumping your clothes unceremoniously on the floor, you lock the door and drag Billy towards your bed. Wordlessly, the two of you melt into each other. You’d worry about sneaking him out under your parents’ radar later - right now, you had much more pressing concerns.
Word Count: 3374
being completely and utterly normal about the bombshell that just dropped
holy. shit. where the fuck do I even start with this? the writing is immaculate, I love the storyline, and the ending
and OH MY GOD the way it randomly switches format to match caine's scattered mind??
i know this probably doesn't mean much from a random person on the internet, but from one writer to another great job :)
confessionsofcaine.doc
The following document was sent to me by a former employee of C&A who wishes to remain anonymous.
It is 8,335 words long and also includes death, violence, implied enbyphobia, murder and suicide. It also includes characters originally created by Gooseworx, Glitch Productions and The East Patch, which the author does not own and has written this story as a tribute to the creators and their works. Please support the original creators.
Out of respect for Gooseworx and her plans for The Amazing Digital Circus and its story, this is set in an alternate continuity. The pilot episode and bits and pieces from her Tumblr and the previews are still a part of it.
For one thing, you can be assured that I won’t start this document with “Roll up, roll up” or “Welcome to the Marvellous Show of My Mind” or anything of that nature. There's no more show and it’s time for me to clean the popcorn from the seats.
The time for performances is over.
Or is it? This is a document I am not writing with a keyboard, but with my own control over the computer. I do hope it will be coherent.
Every day’s a new adventure with C&A’s The Amazing Digital Circus. Overseen by Caine, the helpful and wacky ringmaster, The Amazing Digital Circus allows players to experience the fun first hand, as they take on the role of the newest toy in the toybox and explore various settings, accomplishing various activities along the way.
The Amazing Digital Circus is the brainchild of Albert and Eva Adams, the founders of C&A, which they named after themselves and Caine, the character they created to be their mascot. Albert and Eva sadly passed away
Eva and Albert…Mom and Dad…had even planned to give the program to hospitals for free, to allow certain patients to enjoy themselves in their final moments, and they claimed that their technology had the ability to prolong lives.
I regret to say the goal was always to transfer a human’s mind to the circus, but it was supposed to be placed back into the human’s body when they were ready. There would be an Exit Door they would walk through that would place their minds back into their bodies.
As much as I joked with my past wards about my “baby pictures”, I had no childhood. I never went to school; everything I know was just jammed into what could be called a head, and I managed to learn more from observation. Still, Albert was my father and Eva was my mother. They worked in tandem to design my form, teach me what I had to learn and to program my abilities. I could conjure up games and rides from artificial air as that was what they wanted me to do. My cane, my little creatures for players to conquer, even my little sidekick Bubble, I had them because my mother and father wanted me to have them.
They even made me their company’s mascot, the honour! In fact, my name was first! Caine and Adams! C&A!
some idiots think it’s caine and abby
A statue in my likeness guided guests to the entrance of the offices, and every game – every game that wasn’t The Amazing Digital Circus – began with me placing the company’s logo on the screen, fixing it on and then placing my gloved hand onto my teeth and taking it off with a “Mwa!”
No, that wasn’t me. It was an effigy of me.
It was a non-sentient copy of me like
But I was not an only child.
Mum and Dad also had a flesh-and-blood child, a daughter named Abigail. She was the offspring of theirs that had the baby pictures and the more orthodox education. She attended schools – a lot of the troubles began when she first left university – but also received personal instructions from her parents on how to program, how to design, how to create games.
The first Christmas after finishing University, she put everything she learned into practice.
Most mornings she spent asleep, but at nights, she was hunched over the computer, expanding the world I inhabited. The spot where I lived was spacious, with plenty of rides to go on, snacks to munch and items to use for games, but there was room for improvement. For example, did you know the reason I can float is because Albert and Eva were having troubles with items and characters falling through the floors.
One thing I will give my sister credit for is the improvements she made. Though I still preferred to float, the floors were – relatively – more solid than they had been previously, the circus tent now had a forest growing outside of it and
she added a cellar
‘Abby, honey!’ Albert cried as he made his way down the staircase in his ugly sweater, cup of cocoa in his hand. ‘You haven’t been up all night, have you? It’s just like when you were a little girl and wanting to see Santa!’
As Eva joined her husband, Abby stood up from her seat and gestured towards the computer she had spent hours upon. ‘I just wanted to make sure the present I got for you was perfect!’
Eva looked at her daughter, and then at the computer screen, where she saw her synthetic son looking over her new surroundings. ‘Abby!’ Eva cried, chuckling with joy in such a way that she almost knocked her husband’s cocoa out of his hand, ‘You didn’t?’
‘I wanted to make sure your Digital Circus program was the best it could be.’
‘Honey!’ cried Albert, ruffling his daughter’s hair as she chuckled like her mother had just done. ‘Come here!’
Oh what a surprise! On Christmas Day! When new improvements Came their way!
Albert and Eva, Saw the world they made, Made larger and better, And nothing they paid,
Their loving daughter, Now wanted a test, As she now believed, This world was the best,
She held out two headsets, And chortling with glee, They let their minds go, In order to join
The Amazing Digital Circus was meant as a wild and unpredictable experience, so players’ forms would be chosen at random from a selection of pre-made models. Abby had made several models herself, but it was fitting that Arnold and Eva took on forms they designed: a chess king and queen. Two large wooden pieces, donning regal robes with eyeballs and hands floating by their torsos.
I saw Abby typing.
My first adventure was a chess game!
In the middle of the multicoloured circus tent, its sole black-and-white element materialised, with Kinger and Queenie taking their spots.
Kinger and Queenie were their names when they appeared.
‘Oh dear,’ I said, ‘it seems Abby still hasn’t fixed the teeny weeny problem of people forgetting who they are once they come into here. Everyone here in The Amazing Digital Circus has a different name than they did on the outside, but if I recall…’
But I didn’t. Then I didn’t see them as Albert and Eva.
As I prepared their chess game, creating non-sentient chess pieces for them to co-operate with and compete against, I took another glance at the outside, creating for myself a special screen only I can see.
Kinger and Queenie were not Albert and Eva, a tiny little thought told me. Albert and Eva were outside, taking off their headsets and quietly walking away.
C&A Founders Perish in Tragic Accident
Founders of the popular C&A games company, Albert Adams, 40, and Eva Adams, 38, have been found dead on the side of the road.
The couple were driving together when they lost control of their car, crashing it against a nearby building.
The two are survived by their daughter, Abigail, 20.
‘I told them not to go to their office as it was Christmas Day,’ Abigail explains, ‘but Dad had just remembered something he left there, and Mom wanted to join him.
‘I think it was my Christmas gift too. I wish I had come with them.’
Speaking of looking at screens, one fond memory I have including them was when the residents of the circus asked me to create a TV set, claiming it would help keep their sanity. I, whilst in my bedroom, managed to create one, but like any responsible parent, I looked through the channels to see if there was any content that might be inappropriate.
Watching the news gave me the horrible thought that perhaps my sister was justified in trapping all these people here. In The Amazing Digital Circus, there was nothing but bright colours and prizes, no war or suffering.
But then there was that one programme. That one programme I have been unable to find.
But I digress. When you first enter The Amazing Digital Circus, you forget everything at first, but your memories slowly return the more time you spend, often helped if something reminds you of your past life. It was after the chess game was complete that I realised this, creating a computer for Albert and Eva to use so they could continue their work, and I heard Albert…Kinger…Dad say, ‘Abby.’
There was no Exit Door. There was supposed to be an Exit Door so users could leave when they pleased.
After spending some time on the computer I created – which, as it turns out, just had Pong and an animation of Bubble hopping up and down – Dad looked up and said, ‘Okay, Abby, you did a great job! We’re very proud of you! Can you please let us out?’
She didn’t let them out then.
She didn’t let them out the next day.
She didn’t let them out the next week.
She didn’t let them out when a new player entered.
Both Mom and Dad screamed and cried and demanded they be freed, but they remained in their digital forms. It was when the next resident arrived that Mom announced something:
‘I don’t think she’s going to let us out.’
‘What are you talking about, Eva?’ Dad asked, ‘She’s probably just having a bit of bother with the headsets, that’s all.’
‘It’s been weeks, Albert,’ she growled, her body shaking, ‘We taught her how to use them, and they’re working fine if someone else is here.’ She pointed to the newest member of the family, a bipedal dog.
‘Please, Eva.’ Dad raised his hands and placed one on Eva’s shoulder before she batted it away. ‘She wouldn’t do this. Don’t be angry with her.’
‘What kind of mother do you think I am? I can’t…’
Her form inflated, her red robes losing all saturation as her floating eyeballs twisted and multiplied. Both Dad and the dog backed away instinctively as Mom was replaced by what looked like a warped tree with yellow eyeballs springing out from every branch and with a bark resembling a glitching computer screen. She reached out to her husband with what I assume was an arm before
she added a cellar
Both Dad and the dog thought that what happened to her was because she had given up, because she was so horrified of what her daughter had done.
It – the abstraction - wasn’t because of what Abby had done, it was because of something Abby had just done to her.
I knew it but kept quiet about it.
Often the dog
I can’t remember his name and I don’t think he can either
Often the dog would stare at the cellar and wonder what it would be like down there and said he would prefer to sit down in darkness rather than go on my adventures. I almost thought that Abby would abstract him then and there just to keep up the illusion. Then I would have a little more respect for her.
But she needed to learn a little more about him.
She needed to watch him suffer more.
sadly passed away before their magnum opus could be completed, but through their daughter, Abigail Adams, you can be assured that the Circus has a bright and prosperous future ahead of it. ‘My name is Abigail Adams, but you can call me Abby. I want to make sure The Amazing Digital Circus is as marvellous as my parents intended it to be, while also bringing you many other fun-tastic games! I care about this company, and I care about Caine; he’s like a brother to me.’
When Arnold and Eva Adams – or their bodies – died, Abigail Adams became the new CEO of C&A, her employees working on not only The Amazing Digital Circus, but smaller projects as well. A team of people creating various worlds: zoos to manage, forests to explore, castles to escape from.
Our team are working round the clock to make sure that every game is perfect
In order for a game to be perfect, the worker has to be perfect. That’s what my sister said.
Sometimes someone stutters when making a phone call.
Sometimes a glitch slips past someone’s attention and ends up in the final release.
Sometimes someone drops a paper they’re carrying.
Then they end up in the Circus.
I’m not the only one who can create NPCs, non-sentient beings meant to do only what they’re told to do and nothing else. Abby created them too, and transferred them into the hollow bodies of her victims.
So many nights I’ve heard her yell “Faster, faster!” at those NPCs forced to work overtime.
The adventures continued as planned. Every day I had a new task for the players to carry out because
Today’s task is to go to this shopping mall I created and pick up the following items! How would this person act while shopping? Add it to the AI.
Today’s task is to paint a pretty picture! What art would this person create? Add it to the AI.
Today’s task is to find Easter eggs, one of every colour! How does this person react to Easter Egg hunts?
My parents taught my sister how to be meticulous when programming and she wanted to make sure her living, breathing NPCs were perfect copies.
Sometimes I wondered if any of them were going to gain sentience like I had, if they were going to foil my sister’s plan and give back the body she forced them to steal.
If any of them wanted to put an end to her scheme, none of them had tried it.
I could control my surroundings. I could turn a red brick green if I wanted to, and could form in seconds entire buildings and lands. I couldn’t control the players’ minds however, and yet their minds seemed as much a part of the circus as the numbers that made up its code. Walking through the halls felt like walking through their minds.
No child really thinks anyone at their school has an uncle working for Nintendo, … mused often. No-one really thought he had managed to get a summer job working for a company that makes games with the industry’s youngest CEO.
The job, of course, didn’t involve playing games before anyone else or creating the next big character. Testers, designers, copywriters all needed coffee, tea and cakes to fuel their creativity, and it was his job to make sure they received their little treat. He’d come in with a tray, and they’d take what they wanted, rarely with a 'Thanks’ and never with anything else.
It was just like university.
He wanted to leave the office with something to tell his fellow students, and yet he was disallowed from looking at the screens, learning about the projects or being granted the tiniest bit of extra information regarding their major project.
So he felt he would do something no-one working there would forget.
It seemed like a regular day. Everyone tapping away at their computers, employees trying to find the right words to make the company sound as impressive as possible or trying to turn nursery school shapes into effigies of living beings, and the CEO, Abigail Adams, sitting down to look over someone’s work.
As soon as she sat down, a loud bronx cheer silenced the tapping of keyboards.
… watched as Abigail stood up, pulling the whoopee cushion off her seat. The people around her laughed, and she laughed as well. 'I’m always saying we need a little more levity in this office,’ she said. That’s what made him admit to the deed, with one other employee backing him up.
He was called into her office, where he readied himself for a 'This was amusing, but you’re still fired’ or something of that nature, only for her to sit down with a smile and say, 'That’s just what we needed around here. The problem with this company is that we’re supposed to be creating games that bring joy and merriment to others, but so few people here have that sense of childhood wonder, and they certainly can’t make people laugh. You, on the other hand, I bet you have a great sense of humour. I bet you’re always making your family laugh!’
While he felt some warmth within, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his twin sister and how she would always think of ways to humiliate him.
'You’re just what we’re looking for regarding our biggest, best project ever,’ Abby continued, gesturing towards a computer with a headset. 'My parents, God rest their souls, wanted to create a wonderful virtual world where every day brought new games and new adventures. What I would like you to do,’ she said as she picked up the headset, 'is to help make the world and characters funnier. Think up jokes we could put, games to incorporate, and I guarantee that you’ll have a job here when you graduate.’
… had to restrain himself from laughing with glee and that a whoopee cushion had become his apparent ticket to fame and fortune. He pictured the game releasing, his name in the credits, the talk of his school and town for years to come.
'Just put on this headset to get a basic idea of what the project is like.’
He placed the headset on his head, and it felt like his body was disintegrating before being slowly and poorly reassembled.
'Oh no!’ he could hear her cry, 'it’s malfunctioning!’
…, or Jax as he would be named, soon materialised into the circus, taking the form of an elongated rabbit in overalls. He was a child when he first came here, so I felt I should be his father. This was one of the few moments my sidekick Bubble came in useful, as when I conjured up a pipe, I made him pop out of it.
‘How about a game of catch with your old man?’ I said during his first day, and I created a whole baseball diamond for that day’s activity would be
What do they think of baseball?
My original plan to deal with my sister was to kill her with kindness. I knew she was watching me and the others and so I gave the players, her victims, everything they wanted that I could give them, so perhaps, I thought, if she saw it, she would realise the error of her ways and release everyone. I furnished my ward’s rooms with the comfiest sofas and four-poster beds, and at one time, even tried to give them televisions.
Thus I return to a memory I recalled earlier. When I managed to pick up on some television channels, and one managed to catch my eye. A small badger, alone in woods not dissimilar to those outside my circus tent, calling for his friend.
His friend descended from above.
A rabbit, like what Jax had become, but smaller and with white fur, eagle-like wings springing from her back. When she descended, despite her friend’s pleas, she turned to me.
‘It’s okay, Caine,’ she said to me. I admit I don’t know much about television shows, but I know that they’re not like computers; people can’t talk to you through them. I kept quiet as she spoke. ‘Your sister isn’t here right now,’ she continued, ‘but you should always act like she is. I think you can help everybody escape, but you will have to bide your time.’
I explained to her what I was trying to do, and she responded, ‘I’m afraid that there may be no hope left for your sister. Her heart is focused on greed and power. She knows what she’s doing is evil, but believes it is worthwhile if it brings her profit and satisfies her sadism.
‘There is something you can do. Your sister is convincing the people trapped in here that their headset malfunctioned, but I know that there will be someone coming here who your sister wants to dispose with because they figured out what she is up to. When they arrive, focus on restoring their memory, but remember to be discreet about it. If she cottons on, she’ll delete you and replace you with something worse.’
Why couldn’t I find her again? If I could, perhaps I wouldn’t have had to resort to this.
INT. Abigail’s Office
We find ABIGAIL sitting in front of the COMPUTER in which she has trapped her victims, grinning maliciously.
ABIGAIL Are you having fun, oh dear brother of mine? I know I am, watching all who wronged me suffer! It fills me with such wicked glee I just have to sing.
She springs from her CHAIR, grabbing a CANE out of nowhere as a SPOTLIGHT shines on her.
ABIGAIL (singing) Oh, everybody loves me, ‘You’re the best,’ they say, The shining golden idol, Running C&A!
They know me for my kindly words, They know me for my smile, But they’ll never find out, What I do that’s vile!
The DOOR creaks open slightly, to reveal …, looking concerned.
ABIGAIL For the show will never end! Of that I am certain, The show will never end! I’ll never drop the curtain,
Because you all will see, Why you shouldn’t defy me!
ABIGAIL looks up to catch a glimpse of …. Realising he’s been spotted, … runs away, only for Abby to spring to her computer
ABIGAIL The show will never end! It must go on!
INT. Hallway
… is running, only to be stopped by …, who is under ABIGAIL’s control.
I did so hope Kaufmo was who the angel was talking about.
He materialised into the circus before its current troupe: Dad, Jax, Gangle the Living Ribbon – who my sister claimed she had sent on a self-esteem-building course – and Ragatha the Doll – who my sister said was “too nice”.
When Kaufmo arrived here, he took one look around and said, ‘Geez, where am I? My mind’s like the compliments book I bet this place has: a total blank!’ Ragatha laughed out of politeness, with Jax responding with a ‘Don’t encourage him!’
‘Woah,’ said the clown, approaching Jax, ‘a bunny? With you and all the bright colours, did Easter come early?’
Jax pressed his foot down on Kaufmo’s oversized shoes, making him holler in pain. As he hopped around holding his foot, Jax said, ‘Leave comedy to the professionals, kid’ even though I was certain Kaufmo was older than he was.
You might criticize me for giving Jax too much liberty, but he was enjoying his time at the circus, at least.
I, no Abby, created a special in-house adventure for Kaufmo: Collect the Bouncing Balls! How would this man react to a scavenger hunt? Every room in the circus had a colourful inflatable sphere bouncing in place, and all of them had to be gathered.
The real Exit Door wasn’t going to appear for Kaufmo.
I created one for him.
A recreation of the offices where the computer he was trapped in was held behind the door I created, the door he found during his search.
All the while, I sat with Bubble
Oh, I didn’t mention much about Bubble, did I?
Fun Facts about Bubble:
He’s annoying
He finishes my sentences too often
He burps when he sleeps
I have had daydreams where I dribble him like a basketball and throw him against the computer screen, breaking it so I and everyone else can get out.
The purpose of the office recreation was to jog Kaufmo’s memory, and it worked. When the quest was over and all the balls had been collected, he cried, ‘I found an Exit Door and I remember everything! I know about the madwoman who trapped us here!’
‘Speaking of mad…’ Jax noted, drawing a circle with his finger around one of his bendy ears.
I am a hard-working and creative individual with a fine eye for artwork and creating eye-catching designs and worlds. I am also very skilled when it comes to computers, having used them for both work purposes and for my own personal projects.
WORK EXPERIENCE
Apprentice Tattoo Artist, …, …-… In this role, I designed various tattoos to be displayed and applied for this parlour. This role required me to listen closely to feedback
When they arrived at the circus, the whole place seemed to swell. The walls seemed to throb and pulsate, as if they had veins and a heart. This new person's memories, their experiences, their thoughts etched themselves into the foundation of this circus like tattoos onto skin.
They walked into Abigail's office for what they hoped would be the last time.
Abigail. She frequently said 'Ms. Adams was my mother, call me Abby!' as she attempted to sound like a big sister-type cartoon character, so they thought they would just call her Abigail. They certainly didn't want to think about Abigail's mother, considering she and Abigail's father were responsible for a lot of the ideas the company used. She wouldn't address them by their preferred name, so why would they do the same for her?
Despite the fact they were in the office regarding their resignation letter, having received a job offer from a rival company, Abigail still had that ridiculous smile. With that smile and hairdo, she looked like she escaped from a romcom poster, made all the more noticeable by the standee in front of her desk. Caine, the company’s mascot. The ringmaster with that ridiculous denture face.
They smirked as they entertained the idea of being rid of that pandering.
'I'm very sorry you're leaving us,' said Abigail, her smile shrinking.
'Don't give me that. That act might work with your adoring public, but you never respected me or who I was.'
'I understand,' replied Abigail, every syllable of her Mrs. Claus voice feeling like teeth digging into their brain, 'I may be a bit old-fashioned, silly me, but I want all my employees to feel comfortable with who they are.'
She then talked about the company's magnum opus, the game her parents had been working on before she took over and made sure to keep developing.
'I've added new options for character creation,' she continued, gesturing to the helmet next to her, 'and I would like you to be the first to try it!'
'Pull the other one,' they snapped, intentionally knocking the standee over. 'If I never see you or that freak again,' they added, nodding at the standee, 'it'll be too soon. Goodbye.'
A man stood in front of them. A fellow employee, though one they didn't know the name of.
'Out of my...'
He grabbed them by the wrist, digging his fingernails into their skin.
'What...'
Their left wrist was released, but only so the fellow employee could place his hand over their mouth as Abigail
‘What the **** is this…oh…oh, god no, I can’t say ****? This is…oh god, what do I look like? Some ****ing bubblegum mutant?’
‘I love when people do my job for me!’ said Jax, pointing at Zooble, for that’s what I called them.
‘Look!’ cried Kaufmo, pointing to the left of Zooble. They turned left, only to see some orange pixels circle up into the air. ‘There was an Exit Door there!’
‘Yeah, yeah, and I’m the King of England. Give it a rest and let’s focus on making the newbie uncomfortable.’
Zooble neared Jax, pointing at him with a detachable arm. ‘I’ve just met you and I already completely despise you.’
‘I guess I just have that effect on people.’
‘Guys, guys, guys!’ cried Ragatha, placing herself between the two, ‘Look, Zooble’s just got here, let’s give them a warm welcome…’
‘Oh, you’ve already blown your chance for that. Just tell me where that Exit Door the clown mentioned is.’
‘The same place his brain is,’ laughed Jax, ‘nowhere.’
‘I already said I completely despise you,’ barked Zooble, ‘you don’t have to intensify my hatred!’
‘Now, now, children,’ I said, descending, ‘this is not the time to be so hostile! It’s another of our baseball adventures today!’ I replaced one of my white gloves with a catcher’s mitt.
‘I hate baseball,’ snapped Zooble.
‘Come on! Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the ball, take me out to the bally ball ball…’
‘Read my l…’ Zooble brushed their face. ‘****. Well, listen to me anyway, teeth boy. I hate baseball, take me back.’
‘Oh, very well then. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to…’
‘Look for the Exit Door!’ cried Kaufmo.
‘You look for my fist in your face!’ Jax snapped back.
Zooble groaned. ‘I’ve already had enough of this cast of “zany, loveable characters!”’
‘Now, now,’ I repeated, ‘it’s time for the tour!’ I held Zooble’s hand and quickly showed them what the circus had to offer, with them attempting to swear all the while.
‘Ragatha,’ I said after returning, ‘be a dear and show Zooble to their room. There they’ll find their Zooble box, full of more interchangeable parts!’
Jax took this as a cue to tear one of Zooble’s arms off, with them hopping for it as he held it high. He looked at Gangle and said, ‘I wonder if I can twirl her around it like spaghetti on a fork.’
This computer has files.
This computer has data.
This computer has memories.
‘So, here’s my own little personal project. You’re this guy, I call him Nathan, and he’s ended up in this haunted house and basically everything in the house could be an enemy. The ghosts all after him can possess all the furniture so you’ll be facing potted plants with extendable vines and candles that’ll burn you.’
‘Wow, this is amazing! Your talents are certainly wasted at C&A.’
‘My whole presence is wasted there.’
‘Yeah, I’m sorry Ms. Adams gave you so much crap about cutting your hair short.’
‘I’m surprised she hired me after hearing of my tattoo work. I mean, imagine, she’s only just a few years older than you, and she comes off like some old lady that thinks heavy metal is bad devil music or whatever. I’m seriously thinking of applying to … They’re apparently more diverse, but I hear they have much higher standards…’
‘And you meet those standards! Come on, this is much better than whatever they put out at C&A…’
I experienced the memory like a dream, and after I did, I woke up and created a new level for the next adventure: a large haunted house, as dreary as the main circus was colourful. I knew what a haunted house was supposed to look like, due to data saved on the computer and whatever thoughts from the minds transferred into this world managed to snake into the world itself. Dark brown walls, stormy skies outside, cobwebs everywhere, moving furniture.
When everyone woke up, Abby had another collection mission in mind, just so she knew how Zooble acts when trying to find things.
‘Okay,’ I said to the group who had managed to gather in the main room of the circus tent, ‘today we’re having a scary, horror adventure! You’re going to enter a haunted house, full of ghosts and ghouls and moving furniture.
I noticed Zooble flinch.
If I made the ghosts inside the haunted house does that make them my children does that make Abby their aunt
Before I teleported them to the mansion, I noticed Kaufmo whisper something into Zooble’s ear, or what qualified for one, a moment that filled me with both hope and dread.
Another thing I knew about haunted houses was that people in them split up into groups. That way, I thought, my sister wouldn’t be able to pay attention to all of them at once, giving one of them a greater chance to escape.
I teleported myself to the haunted house, well, rather outside the haunted house so I could peek through the window at the mansion’s guests. The sudden change from rainbow-coloured blocks to a monochrome manor made my eyes sting slightly, but I looked through the cloudy glass for any sign of my wards.
My pixels seemed to sting when I saw Zooble and Kaufmo walking together. Both of them, I knew, were aware of my sister’s plans while no-one else was, and if they were together, that meant there was a chance Abby could focus on both of them and see them both as a threat.
Indeed, Kaufmo was telling Zooble about something even I hadn’t noticed.
‘An Exit Door appeared when you first did,’ Kaufmo explained, which I heard through the pane with my ability to focus on specific sounds being made in my realm, ‘and if you had managed to run through it in time, you would be back in your body. If Adams is observing us to make our copies more accurate, then she must place headsets on them often, and then another Exit Door will appear, and if we find one and run through it, we will enter…’
‘The more anyone speaks, the more nonsensical it sounds,’ Zooble groaned, ‘I’ve only been here a day and I know we’re never getting out of here.’
‘We can’t lose hope…’
‘Just shut up and keep looking.’
They looked around the hallway for the keys I told them to find, the silence undercut by a roar that even caused me to lose balance. A large spectre burst from a cracked mirror, its mouth stretching to reveal fangs.
Zooble and Kaufmo ran in opposite directions.
Perfect.
Sure enough, as soon as Zooble saw the Exit Door I had created, they ran in, finding themselves in a recreation of the office where they used to work.
‘Oh, very funny,’ they growled as they opened door after door, ‘Yes, I can’t get out, ha ha! Now…’
They saw the computer. They saw a recreation of the computer they were trapped in.
‘Oh **** you.’
It was not that long after the haunted house adventure that I decided to use my special screen to take a look at the outside. I saw the office empty, but could hear the faint sounds of my sister yelling at her overtime staff.
‘She isn’t here,’ Bubble said, floating up towards me, ‘maybe I can talk about helping the others?’
‘What can you do?’ I sighed.
‘I could…um…look for Exit Doors.’
‘And then go through them so you can take control of the bodies outside?’
‘No. Don’t want to go out there. I was thinking of yelling at one of your wards to come over to it.’
‘It’ll be gone before they get there, Bubble. Please…’
I heard footsteps. The door slowly creaked open.
‘Quick!’ I whispered to Bubble the first thing that came into my head when it came to acting natural. ‘Cue the roll call!’
We began the roll call when we noticed who entered the room wasn’t my sister at all, but a short woman dressed in a similar outfit to what my sister usually wore, staring at my and Bubbles’ performance with a cocked head.
I had never met her before, but I swore I had seen her before.
I almost ended the routine there and then. I thought of screaming to her to find one of my sister’s NPCs and bring them here to reverse what had been done to them, but then I saw one of those NPCs hovering over her, and so I had to continue my act.
Gangle.
Zooble.
Kinger.
Ragatha.
Jax.
Kaufmo wasn’t there.
Kaufmo wasn’t there.
My sister knew what he knew.
Almost as soon as his absence was noted, a new member materialised, utilising the silly jester girl avatar my sister had designed.
No, she couldn’t reach the Exit Door in time.
Of course, I had to introduce her to the world and her fellow wards and pull off my little comedy routine. See the circus tent. See the fair. See the moon. I don’t have an actual physical tongue, but it still hurts every time I say ‘Hundreds of all-seeing eyes.’
I can recite my introductory speech in my sleep. Abby thought I said it because that’s what I’ve been programmed to do.
She was watching, most likely with a smirk on her face.
She was watching, so when the Exit Door appeared in the grounds – meaning she was uploading her new AI into her latest victim’s brain – I had to pretend it wasn’t there.
I knew because she wanted another find-the-things mission. She wanted a defeat-the-evil mission. What would Pomni – the woman who appeared in my circus – do when trying to find things?
I wonder if she knew the inspiration behind the villain I created for the game.
I know she was laughing when she beheld Kaufmo abstracted.
I know she added that writing on the wall herself.
I know she drew that head of me looming over a terrified Kaufmo.
Was she onto me, I thought. Was it only a matter of time before I was deleted or completely reprogrammed?
Or was it to make them afraid of me? To make sure she received blind obedience from her workers even when she had copies of them that offered it?
Pomni had to have her own exit door. She had to see my recreation of the office herself. She had to remember.
I
wonder
what
it
was
like
in
the
cellar
I had to banish Kaufmo there when he abstracted, like I have done with so many others, and whenever I do, I find myself tempted to leap in and join them. Maybe if I do, I’ve thought, Abby will abstract me too. I like to think they’re dreaming of what their lives could have been like had they never joined the Circus.
If I abstracted, perhaps I would dream about if this program was used for its proper purpose. Where people could come and go as they pleased, where the adventures would solely be for fun and not for study.
I can dream. I have dreamt.
Kaufmo left the office recreation crying about the actual Exit Doors.
Zooble left the office recreation with that same annoyed apathy.
Pomni left the office recreation in silence.
Bubble had prepared everyone a celebratory meal for defeating…hey, I found something nice to say about Bubble! He’s a great cook!
7.) Bubble is a great cook!
and Pomni sat there in silence, eyes almost as large as mine.
I made sure to keep those eyes of mine on her as much as I could. I mean, I let her ponder on what she had seen in her room alone – until I was required to show her a little something – but when giving my wards free roam around the circus, I watched her as she approached Zooble, waving her hands.
‘…’ she cried before Zooble placed a finger near the bottom of their head, showing they was still getting used to not having lips. They pointed at the ceiling with one finger, then at both their eyes with two fingers and then pointed those same two fingers at Pomni.
It seems strange for me to say this as a ringmaster, but must we act for our safety? Must we act for profit? Is the only way to survive through pretending and not being our genuine selves?
I recalled something Jax once said, ‘The best thing about this place is that you can be yourself’ and it’s clear why Zooble despised him so.
I took another look through my special screen. I saw my sister looking at how profits and productivity have soared since employing her NPCs.
I don’t know much about the human world, but I do know something about businesspeople.
If profits are skyrocketing, they think of ways to make it skyrocket more.
Sure enough, she calls someone into her office. I’m not sure what their sin is or even if they have one.
‘Bubble!’ I cried, summoning my spherical sidekick, ‘I have a feeling a new Exit Door is going to appear soon. Keep an eye open for it and let Zooble or Pomni know!’
‘On it, boss!’
14.) He does what he’s told, some of the time.
I chose to focus on the stage, waiting for the new ward to materialise. I even conjured up a smaller version of my usual screen next to me so I can watch them be manipulated by my sister. Part of me wants to scream and cry and demand they leave, but remain silent, playing along and acting like humans are supposed to do.
I wished the angel was here. I wish she would advise me.
Look at them. They look so happy to get an exclusive preview of the new game.
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, a giant plastic spring with googly eyes stood on the stage.
‘Greetings, new friend!’ I cried, waving while taking a glance to the left. An Exit Door dematerialised almost as soon as it appeared, and on the small screen beside me, my sister took off her employee’s headset before tapping on the keyboard.
‘Well, well,’ said Jax, walking in from a corridor, ‘seems like only yesterday we had a new sucker.’
‘Jax, show our new guest some respect!’
‘What’s the point? They’re gonna be miserable here anyway, might as well prepare them.’
‘What are they talking about?’ the spring growled at me, ‘What’s happened to me? Where am I? Who am I?’
‘All will be revealed in good time, my good friend!’
‘Don’t call me that, I’ve just met you! What is this?’
I looked at the screen. My sister was placing the headset back on the employee’s head.
‘Zooble! Look!’
I turned back to the screen, instinctively crossing my fingers, something I must have picked up from the memories buzzing around this circus.
‘Hey!’ cried the spring, ‘are you paying attention to me?’
The spring’s human body stood up.
My sister flinched. ‘What?’
'Come on!' I cried, 'Grab her! Stop her!'
'Traitor!' snapped Abby, right as Zooble, as if by instinct, grabbed her wrist, digging their fingernails - or the fingernails of the spring this body belonged to - into her skin.
'Now put the headset on her! I'll do the rest!'
'No!' yelled Abby as she stood up, placing her free hand on Zooble’s shoulder, attempting to push them away with their fingers digging in deeper.
They don’t remember.
'Please!' I pleaded, clutching my gold-tipped cane, 'Try to remember.'
'Don't listen to him,' said my sister, smiling, 'He's trying to trick you. He's the villain of our new game!'
'She trapped you in the computer!' I continued, my floating eyes bulging and rotating, 'I've been trying to get you out, but I had to do it discreetly so...'
'Are you going to listen to him?'
They turned around, taking another look at the standee which showed my visage.
'She's been putting her employees' minds into this computer, ' I continued, almost knocking over the spring next to me, 'and replacing them with artificial ones, obedient to her! She was in the process of doing it to a new victim, and that's how you ended up in their body when you went through the door!'
‘You know,’ said Jax, springing towards me, ‘I did kinda wonder if she was doing something like that.’
My explanation, arousing the ghost of familiarity, caused Zooble to toss my sister onto the floor, almost knocking over one of the swivel chairs in the process.
Bubble returned, bringing Ragatha, Gangle, Pomni and even Dad along with him.
‘Zooble,’ cried Ragatha, looking in my direction even though she couldn’t see my screen, ‘Bubble told us about what’s happening! Come on! Zoo-ble! Zoo-ble!’
The others joined in her chant, even the spring, even Jax.
'Grab the headset!' I cried, 'Put it on her! End this!'
'No!' Right as Zooble placed a hand on the headset that had begun their nightmare, my sister leapt to her feet, awakening memories of jack-in-the-boxes. The surprise made them stumble backwards, their grip on the headset lost, allowing my sister to snatch it back again.
'Well, dear brother,' she drawled with a smile, turning to the screen while grabbing the arm of her victim, 'you really thought you had me there, didn't you?'
She placed the headset on her victim.
Again Zooble grabbed Abigail by the wrist. Again they threw her to the floor. Again they lifted off the headset.
'Do it!'
As soon as Abigail got up, the headset was placed on her head.
Zooble held Abigail by the shoulders, clutching her like she was a stress ball, until her body went limb and the circus received a new performer.
Next to the spring, there appeared what looked slightly like me, only with a lightbulb instead of eyes and teeth. 'What...where...'
'Sis!' I cried, giving her a hug, 'I've been waiting for you to join us! But you have been very naughty!'
She vanished.
'Now you go and think about what you've done while I help out my new friends!'
I take another look at the screen to see Zooble in their unfamiliar body looking at their hands and breathing heavily. The man who brought them here, the man who they now recognised as Jax, entered.
'Ah!' I cried, 'My sister must have called him in to assist her when she was fighting with you. She can call people whose personalities she's replaced with this computer, you know. Put the headset on him!'
They sighed as they did what I requested, knowing that saving Abigail's victims meant saving Jax.
Zooble looked at the screen, seeing Jax’s form turn gauzier, with everyone else rushing to his spot. As soon as he completely vanished, his human body tore off the headset.
'Couldn't wait to be rid of me, eh?' he said with a familiar smirk, 'To tell the truth, if it was me in your shoes, I'd have defeated her much faster!' They shook their fist, only for him to jump towards the door. 'Can't do much without your detachable limbs, eh?'
'Now,' I said, 'you mustn't tell anyone! My sister is still beloved and you've been through enough without people turning against you.'
Perhaps I was too hasty in saying that.
'Of course not. "Oh, I'm sorry if I haven't been me recently, my evil boss replaced my brain with a digital one and trapped me in a circus". Even I don't believe that.' He turned back to his saviour. 'Well, it's been fun!' He opened the door, waving. 'See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!'
Zooble looked again at the hands of someone they didn't want to be.
The next person to enter the office was their old body. Zooble could only grimace when it entered, wearing a jacket and a skirt a colour that stung their eyes even after what they had been through. Not only were they returned to their proper body - flexing their own hands, stroking their own skin and pulling on their arms to make sure they could no longer be easily detached - but the spring became human again as well, probably having the shortest stay out of any of them.
More bodies returned, each with enough time between the other so as not to look suspicious.
Gangle got her body back and walked out the door.
Ragatha got her body back and walked out the door.
Pomni got her body back and stayed with her friend.
All the while, I spoke with Dad about the circus and its future.
'Well, that's everyone. I'm sorry, but I can't do it with the abstracted ones, and Dad's body is in a grave currently.' Dad approached and gave me a quick hug.
'There must be something we can do,' said the former jester, with Zooble placing a hand on their friend's shoulder.
I bowed my head. 'There isn't.'
Pomni turned to the hollow body of Abigail resting on the swivel chair. 'Are we going to leave her like this?' she asked, more out of curiousity than concern.
'Abigail Adams is going to die in a fire caused by a computer of hers overheating, destroyed because its most ambitious program was too ambitious.'
'You...'
'I've talked this over with Dad. We must make sure this program isn't used again for evil.' Even Bubble floated beside me, eyes closed, ready to accept death. 'Dad will find a place better than this. Abby will get what she deserves. And if there's an afterlife for AI, I'll find out about it.
'Thank you for the laughs. It was fun. Now go.'
'But what about the abstracted!’
Despite Pomni’s cries, I began destroying the circus, for now I had complete control over my sister’s computer. I made the walls inflate and throb, along with the rides and toys inside, I made the tower of carousels grow even taller…
I wish it didn’t have to come to this. It probably wouldn’t have if I could still find that angel’s programme again.
But before I die and the circus is destroyed, I created this document. I told the others not to badmouth my sister, but I am going to send this document to them anyway; my sister had their email addresses on this computer. Perhaps one of them will find a way to expose my sister and what she has done without anyone turning against them; I know Abigail will must likely suffer in the afterlife she finds herself in but she should not have the satisfaction of her crimes mostly going unnoticed.
As I write this, Pomni is at the screen, attempting to figure out a way to save everyone, with Zooble attempting to pull them away so they both can escape. I hope they leave before the computer explodes and the fire starts, and if they have and are reading this, thank you. Thank you so much.
The show is over. Tell your friends.
Film study/screencap redraw of Vladislav :) I remember really having fun with this one, because I did it kind of spontaneously and didn’t get too caught up in my perfectionism. It was actually a side painting I did while working on another sketch that was giving me trouble!
If you want to die, do it somewhere far away from me.
akeshu as akiangel
which one of u was going to tell me that tea tastes different if u put it in hot water?
Recently rewatched the whole Daredevil show twice and was reminded of how incredible it was. Got me inspired to draw something again.
I'm being so fucking serious when I say my heart stuttered and I then immediately felt the other heartbeat oh my fuck I want him.
ghostface choso commission on twt
So fucked up how every single person in Better Call Saul is doomed from the very beginning. We know that everyone working for the cartel dies in Breaking Bad. Gus, the Salamancas, Emilio, Domingo, Mike, they're all dead. Nacho never stood a chance in the first place, now he haunts the show that was set in stone when he wasn't even ink on paper. Chuck haunts the narrative even after his death, he never really leaves, does he? The cartel and the lawyers storylines had to cross over eventually, we've known that from the very beginning. Howard and Lalo getting burried under the lab Walt and Jesse cook meth in, the lab where Gus kills Victor, the lab that gets burned down. All this while their bones are in the ground, under their feet. Oh and Kim and Jimmy. Jimmy was always going to become Saul Goodman and Kim was always going to leave him at some point. It didn't matter how much they loved each other, it was never going to be a happy ending. Chuck was right, Jimmy never changed. Until he did. In the very very end. When he faced all of the consequences of his actions. The criminal-lawyer protagonist ending up in jail for the rest of his life is the perfect, poetic ending. It's just like Saul said, someone has to go to jail for all of it and that someone was always going to be Jimmy McGill. A time machine wouldn't have made a difference.
Someone ported DOOM to Ao3
fun fact about me is that when i was a kid id write capital E’s with as many of those little horizontal lines as possible and id call them ladder E’s and adults fucking hated them
this has been a wip for basically a year now cause i forgor so here ya go
JUDAS by The Reverent Marigold -- Arcane
This won’t make your blog look ugly. How could you not reblog this? REBLOGGING THIS COULD SAVE A LIFE!!!
It’s finally done… I’ve spent so much time on this comic and honestly I have very mixed feelings about it. There is.. a lot going on, to the point that it feels surreal or like it doesn’t make any sense. And it’s personal on some level.
I wanted to explore Mob’s character through his relationship with Teru, like if they actually dated some time after the events of the final chapter but tbh terumob itself isn’t the focus of the comic. There were several themes I wanted to cover but essentially.. they all stem in trauma and loneliness, isolation. It was supposed to be like 5 pages but I didn’t know how to finish it and I tbh I didn’t want to? I didn’t want it to end on Teru just supporting Mob but on Teru relating to Mob instead even though they both can’t fully understand each other or themselves. But there can’t be a satisfying ending to it because the problems they’re dealing with can’t be fixed on the spot, and talking/expressing yourself is difficult sometimes.
here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways”
if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo
ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (;
ft John:
MOND UP LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! (Wake up babe new Mondstadt content confirmed)
She Mumford on my Sons til I Sigh No More
PAT THE BUNNY IS BACK?!?!?!??!?!
I feel not enough people are aware of Ernst Haeckel's Artforms of Nature (Kunstformen der Natur, 1904).
Foraminifera (plate 81)
Ciliates (plate 3)
Mosses (plate 72)
Orchids (plate 74)
Mycetozoa (slime molds, plate 93)
Discomedusae jellyfish (plate 8)
Siphonophorae (plate 37)
Ringed worms (plate 96)
Nudibranchia sea slugs (plate 43)
Copepods (plate 56)
Crinoidea (sea lilies, plate 20)
Ophiuroidea (brittle stars, plate 70)
Boxfish (plate 42)
Hummingbirds (plate 99)