#but i am simply incapable of separating them in my head

[flipyeahaudge]

meows morales, spider-ham, i raise you: dogpool

[problematicfactive]

Fruit Salad is a new discord server. They are a fun. Welcoming community. Too bad they're actually not accepting of anyone they don't agree with and believe trying to come to an understanding is "unproductive"

If anyone is able to provide image IDs, that would be amazing, I'm physically incapable at the moment

The first red flag was their rules saying something along the lines of "be respectful to sources, of a source is problematic, report it in a ticket" surely that will go well.

Our host clued into it, and immediately opened a ticket to ask what that meant. of course they claimed they knew Introjects don't choose their source BUT problematic introjects have to source separate.

Fellas, is it appropriate to claim that any introject, problematic or not is "parading" their source by simply. Existing?

Now I will admit. When we were asked "what we were trying to do" we assumed they meant "why are we having this conversation" and did our best to explain that. However, looking back, this may not have been the question they wanted an answer to. The question feels too vague to answer, and we did our best. It also seemed like they were just trying to change the topic of conversation because they didn't want to be face with the fact that they were wrong and we had a good point.

Again, I don't understand what they want to know when they say "what is your end goal" my end goal is to know what's okay so I can know if I'm safe in this community.

To be as insensitive as to make a joke about using a discord bot being torturous when I had just been talking about abuse of individuals is what told me I wasn't safe. Someone after that when said "LMAO" which I skipped over to make the whole conversation fit better

And this is actually a problem I've been having for a while so I have something that people need to get through their heads and we need to help people to understand

No one has to disclose a SINGLE BIT of information about their system to ANYONE. If a mod is trying to coax the information out of you or shaming you for not giving it, you need to call them out for being innapropriate because asking these questions and using your position to ask these questions or shame for not answering is a absolutely innapropriate

Now I have explained this before, but I will explain this again and probably 100 more times. When my system found out who my source was, I was abused. at the same time, I was forced to undergo name changes and identify under different faces. It was a terrible and isolating experience and absolutely a part of the abuse I endured. And while another system can easily say "okay, whatever, Ted can be Dan in this server" we can't. Because I can't. Because of the abuse I endured I can't lie about who I am it is torturous to me. It leaves me unhappy. It leaves me feeling sick. I don't deserve to be exposed to old abuse I endured because you relate source separation to keeping your old name.

Guess what, a name is a word someone calls to get your attention.

And a pic of you is what you look like

And neither of these things have anything to do with what i support or enjoy

Stop acting like my worth is based on my source and start acting like it's based on what I do for my system. People who show up to the hypocrite competition go home when they see people like you (directed at people like this not any reader) because you're the all time champion and that's not something to be proud of. Don't run system friendly spaces if you think source connection comes from how much like you your pfp looks

[lacrymatoryao3]

Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 10: January, 1900 (Continued)

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there’s smut in this.)

Tag: @photo1030

2,304 Words (AO3 Link)

Arthur was left stewing in it, his conflicting feelings. Tidying up the house, working in the stables, even taking a damn nap. He couldn’t get it out of his head, the way the Sheriff spoke about Ana, and how it reared a possessiveness of her he wasn’t proud of. All because she told him she still loved him. In hindsight he saw it in the things she did for him in the past. She had patched up his wounds, worried about his safety and if he would even come back from his dangerous adventures. She had been the one who washed and mended his clothes, who kept him company at night. He was just blind and too much of a coward to let himself keep it in the moment.

Mary was the one Arthur had intended to marry, but Ana was the closest thing he had came to a wife. It felt odd to realize, but it was completely true. That led Arthur to wonder something. How much did he mix Mary and Ana Maria in his memories? Who did he really miss the most? He still did love Mary as well, but it started to seem different than it used to. He did fail her, like every time before, and she was right to want to move on from him. He said a silent prayer, a very rare action, that wherever Mary went after the last letter she sent to him that she was happy. He hoped she would find someone who is honest and good to her as she deserved. It didn’t hurt anymore that it wasn’t going to be him who provided it. A lot of weight of was lifted off his shoulders.

And then there was still Ana. Arthur wanted to love, to be loved, but part of himself wanted to convince her he wasn’t worth it no matter how badly he needed or desired it. He was incapable of seeing what she saw in him. He wished so desperately he could see the good in himself everyone else seemed to think was there. He couldn’t get over the thought he was never worthy of it. After everything he’d done, surely there had to be some punishment. That all went away when he looked at her, when he thought about her. He couldn’t bring himself to break her heart again. That was an even worse sin to him than every murder and robbery he ever committed.

Self doubt and hatred aside, Arthur got what he wanted. He was a father, bumbling and lost about it like every man probably was. He had a woman who loved him. The question was how to hold onto it instead of running away.

“For now I am a prisoner… in Still-water Jail I lie…” Arthur sang quietly to himself riding on Delfina, humming the parts he had forgotten, “For which I will be sorry… Til my dyin’ day…”

By the time he got to the school the children had already been let out. He knew something was wrong when the sounds of the children weren’t the usual ones they tended to have as he he drew nearer. Some were scared, some excited, but all crowded around the commotion in the front yard. Surrounded by their peers was Arthur Francisco and an older boy circling each other before taking swings like they were grown men. The older boy was taller and looked like he did a lot of farm work. Arthur Francisco, impressively, was able to hold his own against him.

Perhaps he should have let them fight it out, but he couldn’t stand the sight of poor Miss Svensson doing everything she could to separate them. She had taken hard tumble when the older boy got Arthur Francisco on the ground, striking him in the stomach. He didn’t get very many in, Arthur Francisco got the upper hand and grabbed him tightly around the neck and using his knees to roll on top of him. He kept one hand there, pummeling the boy with his other fist. He just kept punching him in the face over and over.

Everything happened so fast Arthur hadn’t fully registered what was happening when he jumped off Delfina and ran to them. He snatched Arthur Francisco from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and yanking him away as the child flailed against him.

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT AGAIN, MILLER!” Arthur Francisco hissed at his enemy, “IF YOU DO I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU!”

He could feel the rage emanating from him, his blue eyes burned like hellfire glaring at the older boy lying before him. Arthur finally and fully saw what Ana had repeatedly told him about their boy: himself. It was in that unmerciful and righteous anger.

“Like hell you will boy!” Arthur objected, putting Arthur Francisco firmly on his feet and grasping him hard on the shoulders, “You don’t talk to no one like that! You hear me?!”

The emotion hearing Arthur Francisco utter those words matched the boy’s own. The audience grew quiet and quickly dispersed, leaving only them, Miss Svensson who was standing and dusting herself off, and the Miller boy sitting defeated on bloody snow.

Arthur spun around, focusing some of his ire to him, “And you, what’s your excuse?! Ain’t you a little too old for this bullshit?!”

Miss Svensson shook her head and helped the Miller boy to his feet, “This happens frequently with Zachariah, I am afraid. Another letter for me to write now.”

“Well, don’t worry about this one.” Arthur huffed, gesturing to Arthur Francisco, “I’ll tell his mama and deal with what I can in the meantime.”

Miss Svensson took the Miller boy inside the school to tend to just injuries.

“What the hell happened anyway?” Arthur asked Arthur Francisco. It had to happen on his watch. As if the day hadn’t dragged on enough. He took a bandana out of his pocket, softly wiping Arthur Francisco’s face to see the damage. His lip was split and bleeding, bruises were already appearing around his left eye and jaw. Arthur had him open his mouth. No teeth where chipped, broken, or missing. He carefully prodded his stomach, checking for any signs of internal injury. The boy only told him it was sore and not painful. That too would be bruised for a while.

Arthur Francisco sighed, “Well… Jane was talking to some of the girls about the new baby. He went up to her and started asking her… not very nice things.”

Arthur nodded, “I can understand wantin’ to defend a girl, but don’t go around threatenin’. Because there comes a time where somebody takes you up on it, and you either become a coward or a killer. Or… you’re the one that gets killed. Me and your mama seen too many men go to an early grave for it. We want better for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I just… Don’t understand why people are so hateful just because someone exists.”

Arthur put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “There’s a lot of them out there, I fear. You just got to be better than they are.”

Arthur gathered their horses. He put Arthur Francisco onto Josefina and tied her reins to the horn of Delfina’s saddle. He led them through town, stopping at the butcher’s to buy some steaks for dinner before setting off home. He kept a close eye on the boy, but besides the darkening contusions on his face he didn’t show any signs of anything else.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened to me…” Arthur Francisco calmly protested, holding the steaks while Arthur put the horses in the stable by himself.

“Yeah, I know, but I want to make sure.” Arthur replied, “If something happened, your mama wouldn’t be afraid to beat me senseless. Now, go inside and put those in the ice box. I’m going to go beck of Mrs. O’Hogan.”

Approaching it, on the outside the O’Hogan’s gingerbread styled home was silent. Once he was at the front door, Arthur could hear the chaos that 5 children in one place could bring. He took off one of his gloves and knocked loudly so it could be heard over the commotion. Mr. O’Hogan stepped out, disheveled and with a big smile on his face.

“I hope we got some good news there!” Arthur greeted.

Mr. O’Hogan clasped him tightly on the shoulder, “We sure fuckin’ do! Little girl, 6 pounds! Both o’ ‘em as healthy as can be! Sent a cable ta the archdiocese in Saint Denis, see if we can get a priest ta come up an’ baptize her.”

O’Hogan let Arthur go, pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lighting it with a match, “So, how about that row Little Arthur had? Heard he put a hell o’ a hurt on that Miller boy.”

“He’s pretty banged up his damn self. I have no idea how I’m going to tell Anie.” Arthur replied, “I just wanted to make sure everything went well with your wife and check how your daughter is doin’. That boy said some nasty things to her I was told.”

“Nothin’ about them Millers ain’t nasty!” O’Hogan replied, “Getting’ tired o’ it. I’m gonna start goin’ with ‘em ta school an’ back.”

“As long as you let our ladies come back.” Arthur said with a hint of humor, “Anyway, you have a good night, Owen. Glad you finally got your third girl! Let our ladies come home soon!”

Making dinner was a lot easier. Arthur knew how to cook a slab of meat, not in a pan but all it did was take slightly longer than holding it over a fire. The boy had enough experience in the kitchen to heat up a can of carrots. They kept a plate in the warming box for Ana. After cleaning up they spent time on the living room floor, drawing animals with the watercolors Arthur Francisco was given for Christmas. Arthur would sketch them out with a pencil, and the boy would paint them. Arthur shared the least traumatic stories about the things he saw over the years. They spent a lot of time talking.

Arthur got him ready for bed on time. He patted the boy lightly on the head, “Your mama should be home soon. She’ll probably check up on you because… Well, you know.”

“Yeah, she usually does.” Arthur Francisco said, “Good night, Arthur.”

Arthur got up and went to the door, “Good night, son.”

[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]

Ana closed the door quietly. She took off her jacket and shoes. Her hands went to her head as she tip toed into the kitchen, pulling out every pin until her hair was free. She was glad everything went well, and that it was over for another two or three years. The O’Hogans made it seem like this would be their last. With a couple like that, she wasn’t sure how long that vow would last.

Maybe if she had something like that, Ana might feel the same about it.

The counter was a note on a piece of torn paper. In Arthur’s fine handwriting was a line about leaving a plate from dinner for her. She hovered her hand over the stove. It was still quite hot. She opened the warming box to find it nearly as fresh as it was from the evening. He was always good when cooking a piece of meat.

She put it on the table, poured a glass of gin, and sat down to enjoy it. Arthur’s door creaked open. He stepped out and sat next to her.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.” Ana said.

Arthur shook his head, “No. I was actually up waitin’ for you. How’d everythin’ go?”

“Good! Of course, there’s always that time when things can be a little risky, but I think Rosaline and the baby will be just fine. How did it go with you and Arthur Francisco?”

“It went well… For the most part…” Arthur went quiet for a moment, “The boy got into a fight when school let out.”

Ana rolled her eyes, “I heard Stephen and Jane tell their father about it. How bad are his wounds this time?”

“He’s pretty banged up. He did worse to that Miller boy.”

“I’m not surprised.” Ana sighed, “Something has to be done about them, before things get worse. I have an idea. Maybe the father will consider it, if you’ll accompany me tomorrow.”

“I sure will. I’d like to see this hated man.”

After Ana ate she went up the stairs with Arthur following behind. She entered Arthur Francisco’s bedroom. The boy was sleeping soundly when she sat down at the edge of his bed, stroking his hair and scanning the bruises on his face. She sighed again and tucked his covers around him, kissing him on the temple before leaving.

Arthur waited for her in the hall. She patted him on the back, “Thank you for everything you did today. I imagine it wasn’t easy for you.”

He saw his chance. Before he his doubts got the better of him, he wrapped his arm around Ana’s waist and drew her to him. She let out a quiet yelp in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. He held her close to his body, her head coming to rest on his chest. He forgot how small she was compared to him, how wonderful it felt to have her pressed against him protectively in his arms. Her warmth filled a hole deep within his heart, one that had grown so accustomed to pain it almost burned. He never thought he’d feel like that again, where his heart raced, his face burned, his hands shook.

[phantomram-b00]

So I saw this post and I just wanna talk about it, specifically the last two,

The fact people think Crowley hates Aziraphale over the finale is kinda baffling and unserious to me. Like I’m not saying Crowley isn’t going to be mad at him, but hate is very much a strong word considering everything they’ve been through together. Because if that was the cast, shit Crowley could’ve hated him a long as time ago, even from a beginning since they’re suppose to be enemies, they drill it in Aziraphale and I don’t doubt hell drill it in Crowley’s head too about this but he doesn’t (and I highly doubt Aziraphale hated Crowley) or even during the holy water situation or any moment when they had a spat or disagreement. Did this finale gave him a wound, yes, (like I may be a Aziraphale kin but that shit hurt my feelings) am I saying Crowley is incapable of hate? No I’m sure he hates a lot of things (*cough cough*, metatron rn) but I don’t see him bringing himself to hate Aziraphale over this nor do I think he’ll try to, it be out of character for him to even try to. This is the same character that brought down London are mobile phone network and called that his sinful deed, so are we really expecting more out of that?

And no, Crowley not gonna become Duke of Hell to spite him, that’s also an out of character thing, just because he said no and Aziraphale said yes with his promotion, doesn’t mean he going to just waltz back to hell and tell Shax “hey I wanna be Duke of Hell role since my non-official spouse left me for his job”, he not petty like Aziraphale; he going to stay in earth since that’s his home. That’s his space, why else do you think we hardly see scene of him in hell, because he never considered hell home/his side (and let not kid ourself, who would if you have people like Furfur who most likely lick the walls and how claustrophobic that place is, so I feel Crowley). I’m not trying to bring back the job episode since everyone talk about it, (I love the episode as much as the next person) I do think that is a prime example of him saying he doesn’t even on hell’s side. So imma just bring up the other minisode where after the magic show, they celebrate it and also comment on how they both are in shades of grey in some way, Crowley being the darker grey whilst Aziraphale being the lighter shade (which I’m surprised no one talked about, someone probably did an I missed it but I’m just surprised no one is talking about that conversation but I digress.) so the whole “Duke of hell Crowley” is nonsense, could be a fun au for fanfic but on paper it doesn’t fit really.

Okay now to the whole “they’re going to be turn into mortals”, I was gonna make a post about this but I didn’t want to come off as someone who disagree with all the theories, but this one, I really can’t stand, (if you believe it, cool that’s valid.) and imma just talk about it. While sure, it can be they have no side anymore, but why would you want them to be separated again, especially since we don’t know where they’ll even go if they do die. But also, just because they love humanity doesn’t mean they want to be mortal, like I get the romantic implication of this theory/prediction, but I honestly don’t think turning them human is romantic nor is it a good thing, it feels more like a punishment all over again because they love each other. Look even if they do the whole reincarnation thing which fine, book of life did this. Well done, good writing all around, but it still another form of punishment because they going to be separated all the damn time. Like especially since they didn’t turn ineffable bureaucracy into humans (not to being the ship into it since I do love this ship.) so why would they make ineffable spouse/husband/wives into humans? Why should they be punish for simply loving each other? Why can’t they enjoy eternity loving each other as demon and angel, or just immortal beings since at the end of the day, they wouldn’t want a side, they are their own side.

Now look, I’m all for angst, I feel season 3 might have some with how season 2 ended, but sometimes, some angst idea like the one I just talk about or what the op posted just doesn’t make sense/out of character. And I just had to talk about it even thought I really am not suppose to be up. (I only am because I toke what felt like a century nap Crowley gets.) I know season 2 left us with mixed emotions, like I haven’t felt that way since Arcane. And you know, if you do believe in the Theory mention in the post or what I said, cool, that’s valid, don’t let me tell you otherwise. Just I don’t find myself agreeing with these, if you do tell me why, anyway, I just needed to say this, here another Crowley gif since I love this character and I do find myself in him. (Maybe not as much as I find myself in Aziraphale but close enough, I kin them both)

[operation-penguin]

So I was looking up why the heck would KJ leave his beloved peeps to join the zoo (cuz I didn’t really understand that as a kid either) and I found a lotta explanations but this one struck me??

Now am confusion

So among the fandom the general opinion is that tpom is a separate universe, an au of sorts.

ahkj and the movies (+specials) can all be reasonably fit into a timeline, but tpom just can't be put anywhere. During the first movie, the penguins want to escape so why would they go back to the zoo in tpom? Also, they don't meet King Julien until they arrive at the island, there's no it could take place before the movies. Also also there's no way King Julien could have left Madagascar (unless Timo or smart Mort helped him, but why would they do that lol) until the penguins met him.

Something that always struck me is the use of language while referring to the gods in the lemur's pantheistic religion. During ahkj they are the "sky gods" and the movies (if I remember correctly) simply just "gods". But in tpom they're only referred to as "sky spirits", and although "god" and "spirit" are used in the same way I think it's worth pointing out as it's another thing to add to the list of discrepancies. So with those 2 points in mind, it's a reasonable assumption to say that tpom is separate from the main timeline. Different voice actors could also be taken into account but that's more meta, so I'll leave that up to you if you want to count that as major point number 3.

In my opinion, the multiverse theory seems to be the most logical interpretation, especially with the knowledge of a multiverse already being cannon in both tpom and ahkj.

With that said I do not like it, my head cannon (aka the timeline I used for my fic) goes as follows: AHKJ -> mada 1, 2, 3 (+specials) -> tpom (tpom movie is not real I am ignoring it). Basically everything is the same as cannon, except at the end of mada 3, KJ and friends have no idea how to get home and the penguins just kinda go "aw fuck it, let's make out base at the zoo." And since the penguins are staying King Julien, Maurice, and Mort (the sweetest baby boy sugar bottom sweet pea angle), all are stuck in New York and just decided to make the best of it. This could also explain why King Julien is more of a cunt in tpom. I love him but he's more problematic than Mort, the way he's written is so ignorant and uncaring compared to ahkj. It could be argued that unlike ahkj he's not the main character, but to me it feels so dramatically different. His shift in personality could be due to loss of control of his life, he simply cannot return to his peeps, so now he's bitter and has just accepted the zoo life. This of course also effects Maurice and Mort, but more so Maurice who is treated less as a friend and more as a servent (not always tho, they still have sweet moments), Mort is basically treated the same in all versions of cannon.

But there's another inconsistency that needs to be addressed: the penguins of Madagascar movie (tpom movie). I'm at a loss with this movie. Not only is it my second least favorite (right under mada 3 for obvious reasons), but it makes no sense. Ignoring all my issues with it and focusing on lore, where the fuck does this fit in??

The wiki claims that it takes place after mada 3 but this doesn't track. The penguins are shown as kids and presented in this found family kind of light, which is sweet.... But they aren't themselves in my opinion. Skipper is way to much of a dumb ass, it's like he just can't be bothered to give a shit, they make private a fucking baby incapable of doing anything on his own until the end of the movie, and Rico/Kowalski are just there????? If you watch the first 3 movies and follow it up with tpom movie, none of the penguins behave the same. I just hate them so much in this film. Mada 3 and tpom movie fucked up everyone's personality. In mada 1-3 the penguins are shown as more of a military like squad, still found family but not as gushy and sugary sweet. Operation Penguin (game boy game from 2005 showing the events of mada 1 through private's pov) delivers a more accurate portrayal of these fucking birds than their own movie. They're just a group of 4 penguins that work together and love eachother but not in the big dramatic gushy way like tpom movie shows.

BUT WAIT. HAHAHAHAHAH. This isn't over. In Operation penguin, there are more inconsistencies. Gonna just make a list:

1. King Julien has no crown

2. Private is aware of at least one of his blood relatives (his father, Sam Fishy. Meaning Private's full name is "Private Fishy")

3. Private is sent to defeat the foosa ALONE

4. Maurice is missing, King Julien and Mort are the only 2 lemurs shown in the game

5. Kowalski ALSO knows at least one blood relative (cousin Jeffrey)

6. Number 2 and 5 imply that half of the penguins have memories of being in Antarctica. If private hatched on the iceberg in mada 3 he woULDN'T FUCKING KNOW WHO HIS DAD IS AND HE WOWULLF. RBD. GFH KS M EV B , ...,.ZZMS..E. E

In conclusion, any media that is Penguin centric can't fit into mainstream cannon, so believe whatever the fuck your heart tells you to. Most probable is that Movies + specials + ahkj, tpom, topm movie, and Operation penguin (and other games probably) are all parallel alternative universes only available to us through Mort's ability to transcend beyond one universe.

Btw Kowalski likes soap operas.

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

[yourbuerokrat2]

Q was having a crisis, which actually was .. something new. Usually any and all Qs have had their last identy, moral and 'oh why am I like this? what is the meaning of a gods life?' crisis a few million if not a billion years ago, Q included. So, to feel him in the Continuum separate and yet one of them as all of them were both separate individuals and yet one, be full of unrest and even uncertainty and various other tings the Q had thought they had lost the ability to feel or even care about, was quite a novelty.

A novelty that most of them did not care about, having their own plans, duties and hobbies to take care of, too self-absorbed even in a place that was known for unity, yet Q seemed to feel the strange need to justify himself in front of them as if they were his willing rather than unwilling audience. As if they felt anything more thanmild amusement at the 'sight' of their most notorious and prideful member realizing that what he felt for 'The Representative of Humanity' was way more than a passing interest.

Because Q knew that this was not someting that was supposed to happen, especially not (in Qs own rant) to him, the absolute best of the best. He wasn't supposed to be so utterly willing to make a fool out of himself for something and someone like Jean-Luc Picard, and oh the longing in the thought of that name alone should be alarming if the Continuum hadn't stopped caring about affairs such as these a long time ago, having collectively chosen to get whatever entertainment they could get out of the ensuing chaos instead of trying to get Q to obey the laws that stated that too much attachment was not only a danger for a Q, but for the stability of the universe as well .

Then Q went on about how he had simply been bored for the last couple of millenia so of course he gets a bit.. excited about having found a new and interesting toy. Q was interupted by another Q who half-seriously suggested that if this was all Picard was, then they could maybe take up the role of the Judge of Humanity because they themselves are starved for a distraction as well. The rather strong, almost fierely (if the Q had human senses) 'No' with a rather personal and possessive sentiment attached to it that said Q was met with caused them to be amused enough about Qs reaction that they gave the equivalent of a laugh. His reaction actually seemed to embarrass Q somewhat, which was also rather new considering the Continuum was sure that Q had never felt shame nor had ever really cared of anyones opinion but his own.

"it's not my fault", Q tried to explain himself "Picard, he... "

Even Q quickly realized that shifting the blame on the human was quite ridiculous in this case especially since unlike Q Picard was utterly incapable of making people think or feel things against their will. Would very likely not even want for Q to feel this obsession, the humiliation and the despair every time the entitys mind wandered towards him and his little ship. Something which happened more and more often as the other Qs would be able to attest.

Feeling that Qs entertaining if short outburst was nearing the point where unrest was turning towards something else, someting none of them really wanted to feel nor see, the 'eldest' Q (they were not really the eldest because all of them very equally ancient but they still acted and considered themselves as the 'eldest' since they saw themselves as the most rational, wise and level-headed of all the Qs) came up with an offer, really more of a suggestion.

Perhaps or perhaps most likely Qs .. problems were not really caused by his rather strange feelings towards Jean-Luc Picard but towards a human. Perhaps the reasons for the rejections, for ... everything 'wrong' between them as Q felt it, was not caused by personal matters but simply because they were of two different species. On two entirely different levels of existence even.

Perhaps or perhaps most likely Picard would only be able to really understand Q if he were to be a Q as well. And Q would no longer humiliate himself and the other Qs by bending the laws of physics, timelines and existence itself for a human.

"You mean..."

"Make him one of us, Q. Make him your equal and I am sure you will have him then."

[edenslice]

New follower here, if u wanna, tell me about ur ocs i want to know everythin about siso and emery go wild i wanna know everything (if ur willing to tell)

EDIT JUL6 2023: these r largely outdated and/or changed !!!!

ANOOOOOON tysm for this mwah (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ

siso and emery are my one piece ocs !! they're mother and child basically, estranged up until wci where they reunite after 10 years of separation

siso is NOT a strawhat, just a major ally (enies lobby + marineford + punk hazard → wano)

this follows a timeline wherein yamato escapes onigashima pre-timeskip after siso washes up on onigashima one day, frees him from the exploding cuffs, and they basically explore the world together

gonna be very long so i'm putting it under the cut

emery: fishman, formerly part of whitebeard's crew before leaving (on good terms). she has complete mastery over the Voice Of All Things which pushed her to find people like her and form her own crew, the aegis pirates. they dominated the south blue, and after literally witnessing siso's birth and adopting the child, moved to paradise once roger died and the great pirate era began. personality wise, her motto is "if someone helps to you, go all out with gratitude. if someone hurts you, go all out with revenge".

siso: you know how much the sea plays a role in the narrative right? yeah. that's basically siso. he's the human embodiment of the sea. and i know how overpowered that sounds, but trust me, he's just some guy!!!! i am so serious

backstory......complicated.! wait for their wikis ^_^

trivia timeeeee (siso only, emery is still fairly new and i haven't had enough showers to think abt her character yet)

・。.・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

siso

is genderfluid, but only uses he/him pronouns

6'7 hunk of a bear.....he was already 5'7 at 15, had a growth spurt from 6'5 to his current height during the timeskip. he's built like a fat heavyweight guy (healthy fat, not obese or overweight). hairy all over except his face and thighs. his hands are as big as chopper's head

i KNOW that isn't very tall in the one piece universe, but keep in mind that the unaturally tall characters are usually infamous pirates/marines and he's spent (almost) all his life blending in with normal people

cringefail. can and will cry crocodile tears in front of children and scam good-natured people to get what he wants. will bring out his pathetic/lazy side so people would look down on him only to surprise them with all of his lovecraftian loser energy and laugh when everyone else thinks theyre going mad

quite literally incapable of lying—not out of guilt, but of laziness. why bother lying to someone when the depths of the ocean will swallow them whole someday and show them truths they cannot comprehend? either say the truth, keep quiet, or kill them. works like a charm!

has no sense of duty or moral obligation, much to his and everyone else's detriment. he will do and not do things based on how much fun he thinks he'll have, then complain and sulk and be generally unhelpful when wrong until he gets off the task.

odd-job man! used to be a pirate (aegis at 0-16 y/o, donquixote at 16-18 y/o) then decided to become nomadic and lay low at places where marines are prohibited (19-24 y/o) up until the year the strawhats debuted as pirates

siso's reasons for being Heroic and saving those he loves are not simply "i love you and i care about you" but more like "you're the most fun i've had in my life so who the fuck do those bitches think they are to take my happiness away from me"

has a casual manner of speaking and writing, but not so much as slang or informal. he just doesn't care all that much about honorifics and respect in formal spaces EXCEPT if he holds any personal reverence for the person he's talking to (i.e. robin)

deeply, earnestly, respects robin, even going so far as to bow, offer his seats, and say "po" and "opo" to her (filipino honorifics), even if she's just 4 years his senior. robin is like. the oden to his yamato except no kinnie stuff.....the burning of ohara and robin surviving it really moved him and made siso view her as his inspiration and light in a world so needlessly cruel

↑ also the reason why he even met the strawhats in the sea train to begin with, because he heard that robin was in danger and rushed to help

likewise—deeply, earnestly, hates zoro, but his hatred is not born from malice or ill will, but from feelings of helplessness too overwhelming to process. there stands the man who is his exact opposite, who bases his entire existence on his role as protector just to fulfill a promise to a friend long gone and to a crew too dear to lose. reckless, self-sacrificing people like him who are consumed by guilt and duty are fated to die in the most painful ways possible and siso doesn't want that, he wants zoro to live long and to fucking take care of himself, but he's helpless. he wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him—you'll never be the greatest because your standard of greatest is a desire too grand even for the sea to grant, i don't want to be the one that will bury you in the end, fucking listen to me—but it's no use, really. all siso can do is stand back and watch zoro slowly kill himself for the people he loves. and he hates him for that

WOAG sorry that was long . this was meant to be sillayyyy (head in hands)

has a complicated relationship with sanji. on one hand, sanji's dream in finding the all blue washed away a deep-rooted despair in him and reignited his hope in becoming whole again and finding that lost part of himself, so he has high hopes from the cook and admires him. on the other, he's just so fucking weird around him. amorous to the point of being condescending whenever siso identifies as a woman. throws his used cigarettes into the sea. fucking pathetic loser of a human man. smells like uncooked fish. has a crush on him that he tries so desperately hard to hide but fails because siso doesn't lie and he can sense when others do. again, smells like uncooked fish.

like seriously what is up w u sanji-kun........stop glaring at me ur sweating thru ur pants. i can see ur bulge. stop (siso, probably)

is in a qpr with yamato!!! i call it a qpr because although you can technically classify their relationship as romantic since they kiss/pda/make-out alot, but it's a little more queer and arospec than that. siso is very conflicted with human labels and yamato grew up loveless so they're experiencing All This for the first time

literally got each other's backs 24/7. they travel together 99% of the time by ocean current or by riding sea kings—siso is responsible in keeping yamato dry and away from the seawater, yamato is responsible for keeping siso's cringefail ass away from physical harm

they don't travel together all the time though, as in both times siso appear in enies lobby/sabaody yamato isn't with him, and yams only debuts in punk hazard after the aokiji vs doflamingo vs smoker encounter

one day sanji will be welcomed in the qpr and turn it into a polycule. idk how though. maybe when she's less emotionally constipated (takes a dramatic drag from my fake cigarette)

aaaaaand that's all for now ^_^ i don't want this 2 be too long . i'll make a separate post for sisos relationships with the other strawhats teehee

[sailoryooons]

Alright after talking to Ryen about 3tan and learning some of the deep lore, I have bumped this series to the top of my to be read list because I am in desperate need of satiating Yoongi content right now to ease the decay inside of me for him okay? PLUS 3tan is legendary, PLUS it’s Ryen who wrote it, additionally a legend, PLUS what better way to spend my Saturday evening then chewing on this the way I wanna chew on Namjoon’s thighs. We are going on a review as I read journey starting now so spoilers under the cut. 

Also at the duration of me reading this, I have told Ryen separately that I am going to burn my apartment down, in case anyone is wondering how my read went.

If I were reader I would also find any possible reason to put my hand on Yoongi’s bicep, especially while trying to ask a favor of him. However, I am incapable of not being a weirdo and I would probably squeeze so kudos to girlie for not digging her claws into his arm. 

“When you stick your tongue down someone’s throat in a crowded garage, it’s kinda hard to not look, that’s all.” LMAO CALL! HIM! OUT! We love a good slut in this house but yes, Yoongi it is a little bit distracting when you’re making out in public. Good for her lmao. 

SHE’S HEARD HIM WHAT LMAO SORGIFJHDIFRUGHJDFIUGHDPFUGHDFGIJU SHE REALLY SAID NICE TRY YOONGI I’VE HEARD YOUR HEAD GAME SJDNFOIBGJHG

I am suddenly so pissed off that my parents didn’t give me an older brother who would have friends who I could ask to fuck me WHY DON’T I HAVE SIBLINGS LMAO but also ????? she has more balls than I have ever had in my life. Big enough balls that I would say she has cojones, even. GOD. I’m blushing right now idrgfifjbhft

But who the fuck is he kidding? Deep down, he’s already tugging you in and undressing you with his eyes. He can already see you bouncing on his dick and screaming his name, losing control in all the best and worst ways. Ryen who gave you the fucking right to write this man this way I am going to be physically ill I’m so in love lmaooooo I AM SICK!!!!!!!

Also need to insert the fact that the way you write Yoongi literally gives me butterflies and makes me squirm in my seat in the best way like I literally cannot sit still lmaooo. 

Honestly reader coming in and not asking for a towel and sitting at the dining room table gives such a ‘sit on the edge of his bed with my purse in my lap’ energy that first time you go into a guys bedroom I am crying this is such a specific emotion you evoke here but it is PERFECT and resonates soooooo hard. 

Oh my god this is where the three tangerines comes in. Literally three changes to peel but not peel these ksfndjfugdiurghrdeog okay okay okay got it. What a motherfucker giving her this task like what is this?!?!? Cinderella where she has to pick up all the nettle?!?!?! 

Okay but let’s talk about how well you write the early sexual experience speficially between like young women and men because legit the amount of guys who like say women are a bad lay after getting themselves off to make them feel better about how shitty they are in bed is SO unreal. This is such a deeply real and personal experience and idk I just want to say like ?? thanks for including it, I guess? This feeling and scenario is sooo common. I feel seen. 

As you focus on the chains dangling from his neck, your reply comes out more confident than you feel, “You know how serious I am.” Chain hang to my dangalang. 

I will actually fucking passout okay. I am now going to be quieter as I read because I’m in the thigh riding zone and there is no stopping me. I am out of control I need to take another shower. 

As you focus on the chains dangling from his slim neck, Yoongi simply chuckles in amusement. “You like that, huh,” he asks, knowing damn well what your answer will be. But when you nod in silence, he hums. “Dirty girl.” I’m going to LEAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Probably because of the demon wearing it. LMFAO RETWEET

You write Yoongi with such a like… lazy, smug confidence that I cannot get over. I love this characterization with him, where he just feels laid back and unbothered for the most part but he has like this big dick energy that doesn’t feel like he needs to ASSERT his dominance, he just knows its there. Like he doesn’t have to flex - he knows he is hot AND good. It makes me want to rip my hair out. 

LMFAOOOO SHE LEGIT GOT DICKMATIZED WHEN HE PULLED HIS DICK OUT HUAAASHSDHFSHDFSUHDFIUHH. Honestly I would too there’s no fucking way I’d be normal. Also I completely forgot to write my experience reading him eating her out against the door but it went a little something like: AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! KDSJNFGLKJSDNFGIUSDHFUSJHRGHEDRS!!!!!!!!! HUEEHHHHHH!

ONCE AGAIN the like - need to show that you can give head in placement of being an insecure lay is hitting to close to home Miss Ryen!!!!!! WHy are you writing my personal experiences, hmm?!?!?!?!

“In my pussy, you son of a bitch” is actually my new favorite line I have read in a single thing ever. Literally ever. 

I FORGOT HE’S BEST FRIENDS WITH HER BROTHER UNTIL HER BROTHER CALLEDHLKS JDHFDIUFHGDIRGHSDLKFJSDLKFJSDHFSKJHDFKJAHSDFKSJHDFSDKJGFHFESDRIOU LMAOOOO

God Ryen what the fuck I am the Yoongi here and you are reader because I feel like I just got hustled somehow why are you so good at writing! Literally this is where I’m going to nerd about because the actual mechanics of your writing are so good. Your word choices and the little minute actions that you have your characters do bleed so much of their character all over the page. Like Yoongi tugging her into a soft kiss when reader is anxious, reader being a little awkward and doing things like ‘oh i’ll get out of your hair’ before Yoongi has actually said anything like it’s damage control is so!!!! It really lends itself to who they are as characters and does an excellent job at setting up who they are and what they’ll be to this story and I am SICK!!!!!!

I am BURNING MY HOUSE DOWN!

three tangerines (m) | myg

title: three tangerines pairing: yoongi x reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart. (loosely based off one part of “the window” by silvershine) warnings: pov switch (just one), age gap implied, cursing, dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, thigh riding, oral (m/f rec), sl*t/wh*re mentions, spanking, size kink, hand kink, pussy slapping, penetration, protected sex, rough sex, fingering, breast play, slight ass play, daechwita yoongi should be a warning in itself.. i think that’s it? he keeps the chains on so there’s that, too lmao note: this is a super late birthday present for the wonderful @sketchguk​ <3 ily, teresa and i hope you have fun with this one lololol. and thank you endlessly to @taesinferno​ @chateautae​ and @lavienjin for being angel betas! you all mean the world to me and you know i got you if you need anything in return. note 2: ALSO.. thank you all so much for the level of interest bc that taglist was popping. i did not expect that turnout (or to laugh so much at all of your answers and screams LOL) so you gave me incredible motivation to keep writing. i’m also trying something new which you will see if you get to the end. seriously, ty ty!  total word count: 12k drop date: november 16th, 2021, 7:17pm est 20/11/2021 update: also posted on ao3  04/01/2022 update: ⇥ masterlist

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When Yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind.

Keep reading

[bloodlillium]

I was correct that having this separated would lead me to forgetting it for extended periods of time but I am always thinking and writing, there is so much going on in my head and I have begun notebook four. That being said I have gotten to the point I am combining things, in this case I am incapable of not thinking about Aizawa and Hizashi in Prehevil, do not ask for details on how or why they are there it is simply fact they are and it is a very sizable problem for them both.

[eclipsecrowned]

What is Hel’s relationship like with her siblings? What does she miss most about them? What does she dislike? // reposted answer from old blog

For the most part I would say Hel’s relationship among her brothers is... good? Good. There’s no interpersonal problems, even if she does struggle with the circumstances surrounding her relationships with them. Hel is her own worst enemy, and the impediment between herself and bonding with others, after all.

Also for the sake of this ask I’m just covering the myth-canonical, usually panfandom brothers rather than any oc or setting-specific siblings. I adore all the fankids, ocs, and fandom-specific children of Loki, but I am also terrified of forgetting anyone and making people feel bad so I’m just covering the main squad of Sleipnir, Fenrir, Jormungandr, Vali, and Nar(v/f)i. Just assume Hel loves any siblings outside of these five even if she’s an awkward sort of reserved sibling at times.

(This is so long. This is so very long. Abandon hope all ye who click read more.)

In my lore, Hel is the youngest of Loki’s children with Angrboda, the baby of the bunch and only daughter. First was Fenrir, and then Jormungandr, and Hel grew up as their little tagalong and pestilence depending on the situation. 

Her relationship with Fenrir was always especially layered, fraught with sibling rivalry spiraling out of proud eldest son vs spoiled only daughter discord. They butted heads often once their personalities really took shape. They easily forgot how baby Hel had been rather attached to her oldest brother, and Fenrir in turn patient with ‘the baby,’ despite how she pulled his fur a little when toddling alongside him. Hel would spite Fenrir, or he would tease her, and within minutes their parents often had to pull the two apart before it turned into a brawl. The pair warmed to one another slightly upon moving to Asgard in their youth, united as outsiders against the majority, but still had a certain antagonism towards one another. Over time, the pair showed signs of getting over it and instead using their barbs more softly, evolving into a form of affection than actual meanness.

This development was blighted, however, upon their casting out and separation. Hel never knew what became of Fenrir until adulthood, and found him bound and mad. She’s not sought him out since, unable to face what he became. She’s long since learned to miss that however much her brother teased her, he was always looking out for her, always protecting her from others. She doesn’t, however, miss the antagonism they unleashed upon one another just for something to do, even if she laments never knowing how they might have gotten over it.

Jormungandr is the full sibling that Hel was closest to in her childhood, as both were more mild-mannered compared to the boisterous wolf cub.  Their relationship is encapsulated by the image of a young Hel sitting with a borrowed book, ‘Jori’ twining around her and following along as she sounded out the words for him. He was a constant companion, confidant, and best friend in her youth. The two especially came to rely upon one another in Asgard, where the two would find quiet places for cuddling and comfort. The thoughtful Jori often proved a voice of reason for his more rambunctious kid sister, and Hel in turn proved capable of calming the serpent during bouts of anxiety. The two were as close as siblings could be, and many of Hel’s happiest memories involve her older brother.

It’s facts like that which make Jormungandr’s loss cut Hel so deeply. Jormungandr was the first cast out, and Hel had to watch his final descent, unable to move or even react in the moment. Despite repeat attempts to call out to him, standing along coastlines and seeking some clue as to where she might find him in the depths, he appears either incapable or unwilling to have a reunion throughout most of history. She misses the easy affinity she had with him, how they simply clicked, and knows if they had maintained contact then their burdens might have been easier to bear. She’s reluctant to admit it, but she’s somewhat grateful she doesn’t have to be a personal heater half the year these days.

Now we get into the matter of her half-siblings: Sleipnir, an older brother, and Vali and Narvi, her younger brothers. Hel has regular contact with all of them, some more closely than others, but she still clings to them and would protect them from anything -- a task she already ‘failed at’ in her own mind in two cases.

Sleipnir was a later development of Hel’s youth. She always knew Loki had another child somewhere, but never had a chance to meet him until the move. As a horse girl and a baby sister, she was positively thrilled to meet her brother the horse. She would fritter away hours in the stables, chatting to the steed and tending to his hair, sneaking him snacks that he enjoyed while he offered affectionate nuzzles and a sympathetic ear. He was the first sibling she reunited with after her exile, and on her first return visit to Asgard found herself sobbing and clinging to his neck, ashamed at her own weakness but desperately needing to hold on to the one family she had left. While both are chained to Odin, they are both alive and able to traverse realms, which puts them in a better situation than their brothers. Hel often sneaks away from events in her uncle’s hall to spend time with Sleipnir, who does not mind the company and makes a perfect excuse to dip out of such events. He loves enabling these moments where his sister is more a person than a queen, to be honest.

Their relationship is great, and unburdened by Hel’s crushing sense of guilt about the rest of her family. They simply hang out from time to time and have maintained a healthy, mutual love and respect for one another. Hel admires Sleipnir’s resilience and mischievous streak, which has been apparent since the day she met him. She just wishes he wouldn’t still treat her like a delicate child now that she’s a grown woman, but he’s still just as tender and gentle as he was at the start.

Vali and Narvi probably have the most complicated dynamic with Hel, and that’s coming from her end rather than theirs. It’s very hard to talk about the two as anything but a single entity given Hel’s role in their lives and eventual afterlives. Hel had precious little opportunity (in my personal, non-partner driven lore) to meet the two growing up, and only knew of their existence through Odin’s manipulations. Her uncle presented it as Loki having moved on and had non-monstrous children with his second wife, a fact that Hel rejoiced in. If Sigyn’s sons were not monsters, she thought they could not be hurt as Angrboda’s children had been. 

She was wrong, of course, as the Aesir’s revenge against Loki proved. One brother died that day, and the agent of such tragedy followed soon after. Both boys passed into Hel’s hall, dying vaingloriously or as a kinslayer respectively, and she mourned them. More than that, she has always considered it her fault the boys died, reasoning if she had put aside her own need for revenge and spared Baldr that Odin might have spared Loki’s sons in turn. Still, she took the pair in, made them princes of her realm, raised and loved them as she thought Sigyn might. Her relationship with them is somewhat detached given her own guilt, but they want for nothing and the boys know if they need her, Hel will always there for them. Even if she can’t understand it herself, they love her deeply, and she’s named them her heirs in the event anything should prevent her from ruling her realm. They are her brothers, true, but she’s brought them up as her own, seen them grow into fine men who are far better adjusted to their tragedy than Hel is with her own. In turn, they bring some brightness to her life, trying to win smiles from their dour, reserved sister.

[lucastheoclarington]

It was, in a way, excruciating to talk to his brother about these things. But there was no one else he felt he could go to, or would want to, which said a lot, considering how much he'd prefer not to be here. He just also knew that if he truly wanted to separate from their family's ways, and be a better person, he had to change more than his Dominant style. It was difficult, but he was trying. His lips curled sideways when Hunter said he was always honest, a flash on his mind of him telling Jenna it was a family trait. Well, his and Hunter's, but that counted to him.

He offered him a duh look, but didn't comment, not wanting to interrupt. He had known of Hunter's crush on Sebastian for ages. If he was honest, it was what had kept him from attempting any sexual advances on Sebastian, without any romantic meanings whatsoever, simply because of how close they'd gotten, very quickly, and because of how it had always been a natural escalation of his relationships. It had forced him to bond differently, which in a way he was grateful for. He hadn't wanted to hurt his brother, and he never would. He took a deep breath. He understood what Hunter was saying, but even then, it wasn't exactly the same.

He tilted his head, in sympathy when Hunter said he felt he wasn't good enough for Sebastian. He looked down again, running his thumb over his other one, a tightness in his stomach, "I understand what you mean. And trust me, Hunt, I am overjoyed that you finally got it right with Sebastian. I'd been waiting for it to happen since you first brought him around. But that's not--" He licked his lips, "you knew you had feelings for him, even before you acted on it." He looked at his brother, "I've never had them." He let it hung for a moment, feeling like an idiot as he hoped Hunter understood the heavy meaning and didn't just tell him it'd happen soon. "Not a crush, not infatuation, not anything like that. Ever in my life. I am attracted to many people, and I can admire them, even care for their general well being. But I've never felt like I needed to spend the rest of my life with them. Like I would break if they moved away, or got into a relationship with someone else. I've never had any of that, I've never understood it, and--" He swallowed, looking down once more, "it's made me think that there's something fundamentally wrong with me." That something had been broken in their raising. Or that he was more like their parents that he'd ever want to be. Incapable of love. "I've never wanted to be like them," and his tone was quieter now.

lucastheoclarington​:

Luke looked back at his brother when he said sometimes, an ounce of relief in him, that he wasn’t alone in this. He breathed, and nodded, though more to himself as Hunter was looking down. That made sense. He leaned over himself then, holding his forearms above his knees, and focusing on the words, as he glanced down too, voices in his head wondering if he should have spoken up, if that made him weak, if he should be bringing anything to Hunter’s shoulders at all. He looked up then, meeting his brother’s eyes, and frowned. “I don’t know. Since before I left, I started doing my own readings, searching, searching for a different way to be a Dominant, than that which we’ve been taught. And I’ve learned a lot, but then– There are these sweet people I’ve met here, and I know they need more than I could provide. Because as much as I can give as a Dom, I wasn’t built for the kind of care they need most, because of the things they’ve suffered in the hands of others. Can I truly be a good Dominant then? If I know there are things these subs long for that I can’t do more than emulate?” At the statement then, he felt a tightness of shame, and sighed, pulling back to straighten himself against the couch and looking out the window again, “I’ve always felt caged, Hunt. I just never wanted to admit it. Because if I did then I’d have to deal with it. Now that I’ve started breaking myself free, I find that something in me is damaged. I guess it doesn’t matter. As long as I can make a bigger difference some day, in the broader spectrum, maybe that’s what matters most. Maybe this is just the price to pay. After all, someone perfectly whole wouldn’t be allowed in our circles.” Wouldn’t be allowed to hold the power he now did.

When Lucas moved Hunter looked up, studying his youngest brother while he considered how he might respond. The conversation itself was hard for them both on numerous levels, given that things like this simply weren’t discussed in the Clarington home, and that was just the beginning. Listening intently to what Lucas was describing, understanding in ways he wasn’t sure he could totally articulate. But, given the topic of conversation and how serious Hunter himself knew it to be, he knew he couldn’t simply allow the line of discussion to be dropped. It was important, not only for himself, but for Lucas. Truthfully Hunter had been asking himself the same sort of questions for a while now, and certainly for longer than just the start of the most recent semester. Inhaling deeply, Hunter forced his gaze to his brother, wanting the other to know how serious he was when he spoke. “I understand where you are coming from. I do not want you to believe I do not.” He began, clasping his hands together to stop himself from fidgeting, something he never did and hated to see others do. “I believe it is important that I tell you I am impressed with your diligence, yet I am not surprised. You always have been fastidious.” Cocking an eyebrow, Hunter continued. “It is not a bad topic to research. Aside from how we were raised, it is important that we each come into our own as Dominants, not only in the familial sense but in the societal sense as well. I myself have often wondered, and still do on more occasions than I care to admit, if I am honest. Which, as we both know, I always am.” Shifting, Hunter considered how he might proceed. “I am almost certain it is unnecessary for me to share the fact that my feelings for Sebastian predate our relationship considerably. Why is it, Lucas, that you believe I waited such an extended time to both admit and act on those feelings?” Taking in a deep breath, Hunter did his best to steady himself before speaking the truth he knew he would need to in this moment. “I asked myself those same questions. I was haunted by those same thoughts. My beliefs that I could and would never be enough for a man like Sebastian overrode my logic, and my ability to reason. I say all of that to say, Lucas, that I have found over the past several months that perhaps there are occasions in which it serves us well to simply...Leap.” Silence hung between them while he considered the remainder of Lucas’ thoughts. “Do you believe that you are alone in that ‘damage’, Lucas?” He asked. “Facing ourselves is a hard thing for every human being on this planet. However, do you feel that it would not provide at least some small form of relief? Allowing yourself to face those things?” 

[felikatze]

give me the a brainworms i am deeply invested in this man

(0) (2) (3) (4)

okay first of all you asked for this. second of all if i am a little off track from the game that is explained by me just building thoughts like building blocks without looking back. third i was supposed to be studying for an exam but this counts as practice right? it's character analysis anyway lmao.

buckle the fuck up, my dearest anon, because I have sub headings.

1. A as the Player Character

Let me begin with why I am obsessed with this horrid little guy in the first place: he's a silent protagonist. I am always obsessed with protagonists. It's a law of nature. I love taking hollow characters and dissecting them for scraps. It's a long standing practice of mine.

Being a silent protagonist, A, as X, does not have a set personality. However, there are patterns. Firstly, as any semi-silent protagonist, A is a reactive character. He does not start incidents, he only responds to situations, presented by the Sephirah, as they arise. He does not actively seek out new information, merely going about the routine of expanding departments, but expresses curiosity when information is presented to him.

I'm aware fandom likes to characterize X and A differently, likely because they are initially presented as different characters. I, on the other hand, would like to pose the theory that they are more similar than expected.

I believe that A is also a reactive character, rather than active. Despite the fandom wiki describing him as stubborn, the goal A pursues with such fervor, the completion of the Seed of Light, is not actually a goal he set for himself. Carmen is the one who set this goal for him by leaving him her legacy.

Throughout the backstory we get relating to the Cogito Project, A is Carmen's assistant, whereas Carmen is the driving researcher. This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be; going with the flow of goals set for them by superiors. Yes I will get into his attachment to Carmen later.

The above is not to say A isn't stubborn. Once he has accepted a goal as his own, he will pursue it at all costs, as is obvious from any and all flashbacks leading to horrible deaths. But the point isn't his pursuit of the goal, but where that goal comes from. Even Lobcorp itself supports this, despite what Hokma may say; A as X follows the "simple" task of managing the Corp's day to day activities, and executes any mission given to him by the Sephirah. He outranks them, and doesn't actually need to do their missions, but does so anyway. Players are driven by the reward offered by those missions, of course, and A might be the same in that regard. Nonetheless, at no point in gameplay do you do anything somebody else hasn't told you to.

The overarching narrative of the Script would be the most obvious example. Every single person in the game follows the script, whether they know it or not.

Lastly on this note, a phrase we hear attributed to A, "Machines must behave as machines." Now, Angela may be attached to this phrase because it bears significance to herself as a machine, and informs most of A's unjust treatmeant of her. However, what if it doesn't just apply to machines? The phrase reads as such, "Everyone must act according to their own role."

2. A, Carmen, and the disease of the mind

So, A will at any cost pursue goals Carmen set for him. Question is, why? The obvious answer would be saying he's in love with her, which like, true. But also, how did Carmen come to be so precious to him?

Let us return to the comparison, "This is how many of the City's inhabitants seem to be." We don't really know why exactly most characters joined Carmen, excluding mainly Daniel and Benjamin. But this does not mean we can't have theories.

Carmen's ideal was curing the "disease of the mind." What is the disease? Complete hopelessness. The inability to form aspirations and dreams, to think of a better future. A is a very reactive character who does not set goals for himself. Therefore, I personally conclude, that initially, Carmen's ideology resonated with him because he could identify with the disease.

This is the point where I start rewatching Lobcorp story clips. Dear god.

So, by briefly binging day 27 onward, I've come up with lines that very much support this lil theory of mine:

First, from Carmen, a description of the disease, "People lock away their own potential."

Second, a line from Angela, after the memory synchronization, "You've locked yourself in this prison without bars."

Carmen describes A as humble, and Benjamin thinks he is warm. If I suppose A was one of the diseased initially, Carmen would be the catalyst for this change. Carmen was someone with big aspirations, with plans to heal what is wrong with the City, and it gave him hope. He was one of the diseased, but through time with Carmen, with that relentless optimistic spirit, he may have been cured, for a time. It's not a stretch to say that she was his light.

But lor shows us what happens when the seed of light sprouts wrong, doesn't it? It distorts. A grasped hope for the first time and then it is ruthlessly crushed. Carmen was everything. Yes, A is described as a jack-of-all-trades, as a genius in all pursuits he puts his mind to, but what does that matter in the face of someone who can unite people? Who can give them hope of a better world? Who can inspire them to actually use the talents they have?

And what kind of pressure is it to put the legacy of a messiah in the hands of the diseased?

3. A and the Perception Filter: A is weak to White damage

No, I am serious about that. He's extremely weak mentally. Obviously death of a loved one is a changing experience for absolutely anybody, but Carmen's death destroyed him.

Not only did he refuse to confide this grief to anyone and bottled it up, now everybody looked to him to lead the project, but he just isn't Carmen. He isn't an ambitious person, he doesn't have the same optimism, he can't bring people together, but people expected him to, and he failed. Hard.

While he was without a doubt talented in science, he was also just an average guy.

After her death, A grew to hate humans. He lost trust in them. He refused to confide in anyone, and be confided in by anyone. Thus, the team fell apart.

In both lobcorp and lor, we get interesting tidbits about precations taken to protect the manager.

Firstly, Lobcorp's perception filter. The cartoony art-style of the game is a result of the game being in first person. Through the eyes of the manager, everything is cartoony!

This is a measure undertaken to specifically protect the manager's psyche. Angela tells us that, before it was deployed, the manager would frequently go insane, one notable incident including the manager trying to hang himself. When we first hear this, the previous managers and X are still separate in our minds. However, they're all A! A went insane multiple times without it.

This is understandable, considering that employees also frequently go insane and try to kill both themselves and others. But they're there in action, confronting the Abnormalities directly. Just watching them made the manager go mad. They could not handle the responsibility for the employees' deaths.

In lor, Angela explains why she picked the Rabbit Team from R Corp as their main contractor instead of any other team. One team was simply too big for L Corp's narrow hallways, and the other team... dealt in psychic damage. It was simply too big of a risk for the manager. But the manager is always secure behind the cameras. Would that teams methods just be that brutal visually, or would their attacks have reached the manager?

Combined with his immense grief at all of his friends and coworkers dying in part because of him, A cannot bear to look at death.

4. A's greatest flaw: Avoidance

A common thread during Core Meltdown flashbacks: A refuses to look at suffering. He just can't. Whether it be looking away from Elijah writhing on the floor or hanging up on Daniel's panicked report of death.

This is actually the thing Angela takes the biggest issue with, and what hurt her most. A would never look at her, acknowledge her, and she did not understand why. But I think A did not refuse to look at her out of maliciousness. Rather, it was out of grief over Carmen. He could not look at her without being reminded of what he lost.

Angela's creation came about because A wanted someone to guide him, someone like Carmen. He threw himself into the project to the point it made Benjamin happy that A was passionate about anything again. But as soon as the project he distracted himself with is complete, he is filled with regret. Carmen cannot be replicated, and he breaks again.

Furthermore, tying this back to my first point about A being a reactive person, we see Angela take charge over A. She's the one recruiting employees and leading the business. It was likely a relief for him to be able to step down from the leading position.

But avoiding it made everything worse. He did not act when he saw Elijah's unchecked ambition, he did not act beyond a simple check at Gabriel's decay, he gave Giovanni the same hope he clung to to no avail, et cetera et cetera.

Avoiding his problems is making them worse and sending everything down the drain (including his psyche), so he deals with it the only way he knows how, avoiding them more!

Biggest example of A's big avoidance problem as his psyche crumbles: the memory wipe. A, in perhaps his one singular moment of acknowledging his emotions, recognizes that he is incapable of fulfilling the Script in his current state. His grief is just too much.

By erasing his own memory, he could start fresh without his grief, because he might've really killed himself otherwise. His suffering became bigger and bigger, and he coped by avoiding it.

The memory wipe allowed him to distangle his problems. Through his interactions with the Sephirah (which I will not individually detail for the sake of my sanity and because I dumped all this on a friend on discord already), he can deal with and actually process his issues one at a time.

As the motto describes, only by facing the fear can he build the future. Only by finally facing his grief and acknowleding it, seeing that the past cannot be changed and he has no choice to move forward, can he actually do so.

5. The Sephirah as ghosts

Lobotomy Corporation feels like a ghost story. I've touched upon this in my previous A post.

As you reach the Corp's lower levels, there are less Sephirah. First there are four. They act like normal employees, and do not breach into the story's underbelly until you reach their core supressions and the facade breaks. Second, counting Tiphereth as one, there are three. They still go about their duties, but they know what they are. Third, there are two, and the facade is gone. They know what they are, and they will tell you about the sins of the past.

And finally, you reach Keter, and there is only one.

This gradual decay of the facade is what really gets to me. I said that by interacting with the Sephirah, A deals with his issues one by one, but that's what the Sephirah are, in this case. Representations.

The people the Sephirah used to be are dead, and the Sephirah are their ghosts. The core supression involve putting these ghosts to rest. Doesn't it match the progression of a typical ghost story? Find the ghost, find what they used to be, and help them move on.

So, if everyone is a ghost, then A is alone.

But, behind the scenes, the Sephirah are still there. They are still people, and they have changed for the better, too. As always, A simply does not look.

(Does he even see the good others see in him? Does he look away from praise, too? Did he even realize Benjamin's admiration for him? Will we ever know?)

6. A's end.

A's progression of moving on would be fine and dandy if it did not end as thus: A does kill himself.

A sees himself beyond the point of no return. Everyone is dead. He is alone. Carmen is never coming back. He can't call it quits now, or else everything has been in vain. (Even if the last days show us a part of him wants to just quit, so badly.)

So, there's only one thing left to do: follow the Script to its ending. Fulfill Carmen's legacy at all costs. Death as the ultimate release.

This is the point where I admit I do not like the death as release trope. But the game does a good enough job as presenting it as the only option A had, or the only option he saw himself as having.

However, I've mentioned it before, I'll mention it again: A was not alone. Death was his release, but he left wreckage. In order to end his own suffering, he inflicted the same pain he went through on others.

Throughout the game, he moves on and pushes through. The ending shows that in reality... he didn't.

At least in lor the characters stick together and help each other heal.

This has been most of my thoughts on A, amounting to my longest analysis post ever, having taken me approximately two and a half hours to complete, and clocking in at 2337 words including up to this paragraph.

Thank you anon for giving me the incentive to verbalize all of this, so I can finally be at ease having inflicted my thoughts on everybody else.

[obae-me]

Maid!Brothers

Here you go folks, some maid brothers as a treat. I know these are also probably just what they did for the butler event but...maids. SFW for these ones, although with enough convincing, I might be pressed to make NSFW ones. Enjoy!

Congratulations! For better or for worse, and for the next few days, the demons that reside in the House of Lamentation are now your maids. Is this due to a curse? Another one of Diavolo’s somewhat sadistic schemes? A dare gone too far? Perhaps you’ve used your pact powers for good evil? Who knows at this point? And to be fair, who cares how it started when you have seven demons greet you at the door every morning? 

Lucifer

He was very much not pleased at first. At all. But not for the reasons you’d expect. All of his time spent serving you completely is going to disrupt his enormous piles of work. However, Diavolo has given him a few days leave to...explore this new...career. Now that he’s in this situation with no way out for the foreseeable future, he has no choice but to be the best maid the likes of which you or the Devildom has never seen before. He must go the full mile for the sake of his pride. No one will be making fun of him once he perfectly fulfills his role, and just because he’s wearing a dress and an apron doesn’t mean he’s not still completely bone-chillingly intimidating. In fact, now that he has more free time and his eyes on you nearly everywhere you go, this new form of his is almost scarier. 

He wears a traditional outfit; Victorian. One with the long unruffled skirt and sleeves. You hardly see him in white, so the stark pureness of his apron and headband are almost off-putting, but it grows on you quickly. The buttons on his collar and cuffs are a bright royal blue. He’s insistent on still wearing his gloves, which somehow only add more flair to his uniform. You never assumed he’d be caught wearing something like this, and yet he’s so confident in it, you could mistakenly assume he’s done this before. 

His main chore is making sure the other maids (his brothers) are fulfilling their duties. He’s written up a beautiful schedule complete with shift changes and chore swaps so no one can complain too much. If he hadn���t done this, nothing would get finished, and all of his brothers would end up flocking to you instead. Of course, with him being in charge of this, no one can prevent him from making sure he gets to stick by your side more than the others by a considerable margin. 

Everything he does is absolutely flawless. Your room has never been cleaner or more organized, although now you have a difficult time finding any of your things. Your pens are gathered up by...ink density? And your clothes by material? Now you’re resorted to ask for his assistance. He knows exactly what you like, and how you prefer it prepared. And once, you’d even begin to sneeze and he’d already prepared a handkerchief for you. 

Of course...this new caretaking biz of his has unlocked a new side of him, or at least a side he’s never had the time or energy to show. He’s unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly, mind-numbingly...fussy. Constantly straightening your clothes, fixing your hair, asking you every five minutes if there’s anything he can do. You’re unsure if he feels you’re incapable of doing anything right by yourself, or if he just has such an overwhelming urge to take care of you that he can’t even let you put your own shoes on.

“Master, I can’t help but notice you’ve not completed your assignments for today. I’ve already prepared your desk, let me escort you to your room.” 

“Master, I know Super Crunchy Devil-Sweet Cookies are your favorite, but they are not good for you. Here, I’ve already prepared a perfectly healthy snack. I know you’ll love it.”

“Master, it is five minutes till your bed-time. I am fully aware you are an adult...yes...nonetheless, I have your bed prepared and will not leave till you are safely in a slumber. I will tuck you in, you must get good sleep after all.” 

“Master, let me make sure your bathwater is a safe temperature.” 

“Master, let me cut your food for you.” 

As the days dredge on, he gets more desperate. It’s been a while since you’ve done something on your own. Lucifer is almost always there. You enjoy it to a degree, but it’s a tad...how do we say...suffocating, knowing your every action is under his watchful gaze. At this moment in time, you’re still unaware if this is how he naturally is, or, without endless work to hold him back, if he’s spiraling out of control. Either way, as much as you appreciate him taking complete care of you, you’ll be happy when the old Lucifer is back.

However, as much as he pushes you, you enjoy the moments with him. You find more fondness for him with every soft brush of his gloves, with all the things he keeps hidden in his pockets only to brandish them whenever you need them. 

At one point, you’d both been so drained from the day’s activities, you both went for a stroll in the garden to clear your heads. Yawning, you took a seat on the soft grass, your back leaned up against the trunk of a tree. As you listened to the wind rustle the leaves, Lucifer looked down at you with a small frown. Then, sighing, he joined you, tucking the fabric of his skirt against his legs as he sat. How long had it been since he had simply sat outside for some air? Too long. You both embraced the silence for a moment. No more chattering maids, no more assignments, just the sound of gentle breaths against the breeze. You tilted your head back, watching from the corner of your eye as Lucifer brushed a stray leaf off his apron.

“I’ve exhausted you,” he proclaimed in a soft voice. 

You couldn’t quite tell him he hadn’t…”I’m just tired in general.” 

He huffs, knowing he was right but not pushing you any further. “Here…” You feel his gloved hand cup the back of your head. The heart in your chest squeezes, but you allow him to guide your body in a lying position, head in his lap. You can’t find the breath to say anything, so you simply adjust into a comfortable position, bringing one of your hands close to your face to gently grasp the apron fabric. 

You don’t remember falling asleep, so you don’t recall Lucifer’s arm wrapping around your waist, his sigh of relief when you get some rest, and his eventual slumber when he too lets the peace of your company lull him to sleep. 

Maybe him being a maid wasn’t so terrible after all.

Mammon 

He was also not happy. So unhappy in fact, he’d refused to have anything to do with this. How is he supposed to make money off this whole deal? Where’s the fun? The thrill? No, no, no, he was absolutely not going to participate. He expected some sort of begging or coercion, but actually each of his brothers were alright in knowing each of them would have more time with you with Mammon out of the way. Well, out of everything, he was not having that. Right after his outburst, he was all too happy to be onboard. He proclaimed he was going to be the best, the cutest, the most amazing maid ever. Naturally. So, all of his brothers might as well go home and leave it to him. The Great Mammon would take it from here. One, they were already home. Two, no, none of them were leaving. As a maid, he’ll most likely end up messing up a lot of things, but you’ve never seen him try harder in his life for something that wasn’t attached with a price tag. And that honestly made it worth it. 

He wears a uniform with short sleeves and a mid-rise skirt that stops right at his knees. It sort of reminds you of a diner outfit more than a maid uniform, with two separate pockets sewn into the apron. The apron itself doesn’t go over the chest and around the neck, instead, it simply ties around the waist. The bow wrapped in his hair and his knee-high socks are a pleasing gold color, one that matches the sunglasses he still wears despite it not fitting the rest of his look. 

His main chore is errand boy. He’s running from here and there to get you and his brothers what they need to carry out their chores. He’s always busy buying groceries, delivering things to your room, dropping off supplies for the other maids to use. Not only is he the fastest so this is more efficient, but it does a pretty good job of wearing him out at the end of the day. 

He always has had the capacity to be cute, but somehow with this new occupation of his, he’s become increasingly adorable. And it’s during this time where you realize how much he cares and pays attention to you. He may be considered a terrible maid, but you appreciate his efforts and the gifts he bought for you, even if he had spent the money for food on it. And where Lucifer strives to keep you safe, Mammon strives to keep you entertained, even if it means going against his older brother’s carefully laid plans.

“Master! While I was out grocery shopping I saw your favorite snacks and snagged them for ya! If you eat them now, I’ll take the trash away so Lucifer never knows, eh?” 

“Here is your dinner, Master. I’m sorry it’s so late, Satan was making it all wrong! Tch, What kind of maid forgets that you prefer it prepared soft and without any Super Spicy Devil’s Sauce? I had him remake the whole thing for ya.” 

“Welcome home, Master! I’ve finished all my errands for today! So...can I...spend the rest of the day serving you personally?” 

“Hey! Master! Lucifer is busy helping Asmo with the laundry, how about we sneak away? You deserve to have a little bit of fun, eh?” 

“Master? Oi, Master?...I can’t sleep...can I get something for you? Anything?...No, I didn’t say nothin’, go back to bed.” 

Despite the fact that he’s been working non-stop for a change, he’s not that different from the normal Mammon except...maybe not as tsundere. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the beam of joy in his face when he got to welcome you home. He’d make sure if you had another tasteless healthy dinner that there would be a steaming cup of ramen on your nightstand. He’d always keep a little gift in the confines of his apron pockets to give to you anytime he saw you. He’d no longer try to hide his affection, only now he’d excuse it away under the maid excuse. You’d miss it. 

You’d especially miss the thrill of having him squirrel you away, the shared giggles between the two of you as Lucifer and his other brothers would run all throughout the house, all in a tizzy, looking for where you’d run off to. Mammon and you both were aware they’d find you in time, so you’d never take the moments for granted. 

With one of those moments, he helped you up to the roof through the window. Absolutely dangerous? Probably, but he never once let you go. As he grasped your hand, helping you get steady footing amongst the shingles, the voice of frantic maids calling your title could be heard below. You lifted your head to look in Mammon’s eyes before the two of you started laughing. 

“How long ya wanna bet?” The glint in his eyes shone brightly against the Devildom moon, the cheeky tug of his lips manifesting into a smirk. 

“This time around?” A breathy scoff escaped your lungs, interrupted by the booming voice of Lucifer calling out Mammon’s name. You didn’t have long. “Ten minutes, tops.” 

“Ten?” His eyebrows raised, and he gave a little tisk. “I say seven. If I win, I get to keep this little trinket in my pocket.” He pat his hand over the proclaimed pocket, your curiosity sparking. “If you win, I give it to you.” You both heard a door slam open, and so Mammon quickly grasped the sides of your shoulders to pull you both away from the edge. But it had been too late. Lucifer was on the roof before you two before you could even blink, dragging you both inside the house from the back of your collars. 

You had figured Mammon won, since technically it was closest to his guess, however, later that night you found a strange little gift beside your bed. He’d won yet still given you his prize...

Levi 

Secretly excited. A little embarrassed, but pleased about the fact that he basically gets to cosplay? Without anyone making fun of him? It’s a little dream of his, and he holds maids in high regard so he gets a short confidence boost. In fact, for the first time in a while, his brothers look to him for advice. He knows all about maids after all, so he knows how to act, what to do, and what to say. No longer is anyone teasing him for being knowledgeable about this topic. As a maid, his Moe points went up by 35, his Dandere points went up by 10, but your overall love for him goes up drastically. 

You know he has to wear the most kawaii maid uniform you’ve ever seen. It goes mid-thigh, the skirt poofy from multiple ruffled layers. There’s an orange bow across the chest, some lining the skirt, and one large one in the back. It’s very Lolita, little lacy details scattered everywhere, even his headband. The only thing keeping his legs from being bare are the thigh-high stockings pulled over his feet. He was very embarrassed at first. He stayed in his room for who knows how long until he was sure everyone else was dressed up too. They tried teasing him, but the stars in your eyes and the exclamation of how cute he looked forced everyone else’s mouth shut. Now his siblings are the envious ones.

Levi doesn’t really have one main chore, but his focus naturally centered around anything water related. Watering the several plants in the house, washing dishes, scrubbing tubs, mopping the floors etc. He takes on more than anyone expected him to, but he doesn’t mind having a longer list. Not only is it simply a maid’s duty which he’s proud to uphold, but he sees them as objectives. Plus he doesn’t mind keeping busy, he’d go crazy without something to do. 

Surprisingly enough, Levi is almost neck and neck with Lucifer as best Maid. He gets things done quickly and efficiently. Levi’s determination has helped the House of Lamentation stay squeaky clean, and his shy stuttery nature somehow enhances this role of his. If it’s his unhinged personality or simply an act, you’ll never know. He can hardly look you in the eye, keeping his head bowed, and whether it goes against Lucifer’s wishes or not, he’s all too ready to help get you whatever you desire, as a good maid should. 

“W-welcome home, Master. No, please don’t step there! The...the floor is still wet, please forgive me. H-here, let me help guide you to the stairs.” 

“Let--let me pull your chair out for you, Master. There we go...is that good? Did--did I do okay?” 

“I can’t believe Lucifer denied you what you wished for?! That’s not what a maid is supposed to do! They’re supposed to do everything! They should do what their master asks with a grin and a bow! I can be ten times the maid he is!...So...tell me what it is you want, Master, and I--I will do everything I can to fulfill it for you…”

“I-I know I’m not as good as the other maids, but please, Master, let me do something for you!” 

Nothing makes him happier than seeing the smile on your face when he does something right. Only, he makes you a little worried. He’s been pushing himself really hard for this. Suddenly changing his lifestyle all at once must be difficult for him. How has he not gone crazy without playing any of his games? 

So you indulge him when you have the chance, ordering him to play a game with you or recommend a new show. Then the excited Levi comes back into view, some of the stress melting away as he describes the shows he knows you will love the best. You do like Maid Levi, but you miss his little rants about broken plot, his cries over character death. The otaku that you’d come to know he had hidden himself away these last few days. You’d be happy for him when it was all over. 

Until then, you’d let him take care of you. Even if you didn’t need or want anything, you’d go send him off to do something, watching him swell with happiness. Whenever he’d return, you’d make him bow, taking the time to rub his head and assure him he was doing a swell job. 

“Why don’t you get some rest, Levi? You’ve done a lot for me today.” 

“I can’t!--I mean, I’m alright, Master. It’s my duty to always be attentive!” He attempted a little curtsey, but you could notice his legs slightly tremble. 

“Levi…” Once again, you brushed your hand over the top of his head, a finger curling around one of his strands. “You’ve done the most out of everyone here, and even Lucifer is exhausted. I order you to get some rest.” 

“But--” 

“You would deny a direct order from your Master?” You raised an eyebrow, but kept the soft smile against your lips. He stiffened, but then slowly shook his head. “Good. While you’re at it, I order you to eat a good meal, take a shower, and get at least 8 hours of sleep, understood?” 

All he could do was stammer, shifting the weight of his body from one foot to the other. How long had it been since he’d taken decent care of himself? Much too long, probably. You’d felt strange at first dishing out orders left and right, but you didn’t hesitate with these, holding your ground until Levi lowered his head and obeyed. 

At least you still had a few more days left with this power. Maybe you’d make him say something nice about himself tomorrow. 

Satan

His annoyance was outweighed by the intriguing curiosity. He’d read about maids in some of his history books, but never had the opportunity to see one much less become one. So, he decided to give it a shot as a learning experience. After all, it was only for a few days, and unlike some of his brothers, he could handle nearly anything for a few days. Besides, he saw this as another opportunity to annoy Lucifer at any turn as well as one-up him by being the better servant. 

He wears a cat maid outfit, he really didn’t see another option. The fake cat ears atop his head match his hair color perfectly, as well as the fake tail tied around his waist, sticking out of the skirt. There’s a small kitty shaped hole in the middle of his chest and a green paw print pattern in the corner of his apron. A shiny golden bell attached to a green ribbon adorns his neck. He wasn’t embarrassed putting it on, but once he saw the look on your face when you first caught the sight of him, for once he nearly hid away. He could hardly breathe once you started playing with the bell strapped to his throat. 

His main chore is cooking. He knows his way around the kitchen well enough and always knows the proper cookbook if he needs to look up something new. Plus, he always tries to go the extra mile, adding little designs to the food he makes for you. Of course, they’re all cat themed. Not only does he find this a great creative outlet, but he relishes the look of excitement on your face when he lifts the lid to the tray. He loves it even more when you upset Lucifer by setting aside your work for him. 

His rather bold and assertive nature slowly melted away with time as a maid. Shy Satan is a rare character indeed, and it has you wondering if this is some sort of act he’s putting on for your amusement. He has been secretly taking lessons from Levi after all. Wherever this new side of him came from, you did your best to enjoy it while you could. 

“Here is your lunch, Master...I...do you really want me to say it?...Ahem, I--I’m sure you’ll find it cooked to purr-fection…”

“You called for me, Master? Really? You--I--fine...Nya~...can...I go back to work now?” 

“I’m not one to question you, Master, but...Is petting my head while I read to you truly necessary?...Alright then...Just don’t tell anyone else about it, please.”

“Master, do you know anything about the strange red light that’s been distracting me from my duties? You know nothing, huh? Hmm…”

“Meow-ster, Paw-lease, I beg of you, no more cat puns.” 

Out of everyone so far, you’ll be the most upset when Satan goes back to his normal lifestyle. He would always be off, doing whatever he wanted, requesting your presence at the strangest and almost most inconvenient of times. As a maid, you always knew where he was, and now he would receive affection on your terms, not his. Although, you can tell it’s driving him a little stir crazy, his head snapping to around with the slightest of noises. 

So, you thought leaving him to his own devices for a day and not teasing him would be good for him. So, that day, when he brought you breakfast, you thanked him and nodded, beaming at the whiskers on your pancakes, but then sent him away. He curiously tilted his head, but left you in peace. Lunch came, and you did the same, but this time he frowned. You even went as far as to tell him not to worry about dinner, thinking he needed more of a break, but that’s when he spoke his feelings. 

“Have I upset you in some way today, Master?” He turned his head slightly away from you, but kept your gaze. 

“Of course not, I just thought you deserved a break from my joking today. I’m sure it’s not fun, being stuck inside most of the day, having me as your master.” You gave him a grin of assurance, but he only seemed more upset. 

“Do you think I would put as much effort into my service as I do if I didn’t think you were a worthy Master?” He took a small step towards you. “I’m here because I want to be here, so don’t push me away.” He brushed his forehead against your shoulder, blushing but smiling brightly as you rubbed the top of his head. 

He could stay like this for a while longer, you didn’t mind. 

Asmo

Possibly the most excited of the bunch. Typically, he’s never a fan to take care of someone other than himself, but he did count you as an exception. He would look absolutely adorable for the next few days? And so would his brothers?! It had taken centuries of pointless begging to try to get them to dress up, but they never did, but somehow you always managed what he could not. He was a little clueless at first on how to take care of someone else, but then he figured he would treat you like he did himself, which resulted in the most caring and loving Asmo you’d seen so far. 

Did he already have an outfit in mind? Most definitely. Honestly, he attempted to wear nothing but an apron, but that plan was quickly quashed by his siblings. However, he still found a way to rock the maid outfit in his own way. It was a French style uniform, the top squeezing him like a corset. The skirt was so short, it just reached the top of his thighs. Instead of socks, he opted for fishnet tights and a pair of high heel shoes. How he would get anything done in that, you would never know, but he managed despite all odds. 

His main chore consisted of mostly laundry. Washing all the sheets, clothes, and curtains in the house, which would take up a surprising amount of his time. He’d make your bed and fold your clothes, preparing an amazing outfit for you to wear the next day. Other than that, he always made sure you and everything else around him looked amazing. 

Not much changed at first, he seemed like normal Asmo, complimenting his looks, standing in strange poses as he went about his daily chores. Then, slowly, he talked about you more, paying more and more attention to you till the unthinkable happened, he neglected himself to make sure you were taken care of. 

“Oh, Master! Look at what I’m doing! Wouldn’t you say I’m absolutely ravishing as a maid?” 

“Master! I picked out an adorable outfit for you to wear tomorrow, it’ll almost be like we’re matching!”

“Master, please, I know Lucifer said this needs to be done, but look at your eyes. Come with me, we must treat you at once.”

“I’m not sure, Master, I think in this case, Lucifer is right. A healthy Master is a beautiful Master! Although, I think you’re breathtaking already. I couldn’t serve just anyone you know!”

“Shut up, Mammon, I don’t care what my hair looks like right now! Where did the Master run off to?! It’s been hours since they drank any water! Their lack of self care is going to be the death of me…”

Asmo ends up being another one for team health. He does your skin care in the morning and at night before you go to bed. Somehow, he always knows when you run out of water, right by your side to refill your cup/bottle before going back to his chores. Asmo makes a great maid, and you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t be sad to see him go back to normal. 

Somehow, he had the magical potential to make coming out of your comfort zone as comfortable as could be. Would he still do the same when this was over? Well, you guessed you had to enjoy it in the moment while it lasted, while he could put you on a pedestal without shoving other people beneath it. 

“Which one for tomorrow, Master?” He held up two articles of clothing, both of which were way different than you would normally think to wear. 

You frowned, rubbing the fabric of one of the options between your fingers. “For me? I don’t think either of those...work with me. Is there something else?” 

“Not work with you? Oh but, Master, anything can work for you. For example, This one,” He took the top and held it against your chest as he gestured to the mirror, “makes your eyes look amazing. And this one makes anyone look amazing, trust me.” 

You took a deep breath in, after all, you’d only really be wearing it at home. “Okay, um...this one. Let’s be bold.” He squealed, setting the right outfit aside for the next day, mumbling something to himself about the most beautiful master in the Devildom...whatever that meant. 

He always found a way to make you shine, and being a maid didn’t change that. 

Beel

He was rather indifferent to the predicament. Everyone was fine? No injuries or foreboding death? He could still eat? No problem there then. It would disrupt his workout schedule more than he preferred, but he found creative ways to use his chores like an at-home gym session. Plus, any excuse to get to hang around you more or do something for you is something he can get behind. Unlike his other brothers, he’s not seeing this as a competition. He’s going to do what he can to the best and fullest of his abilities, just like he always does. For this reason, he’s always been a sort of foundation to depend on, and you’re glad his new position won’t change anything with him. 

His uniform...was an issue at first. Either his sleeves and shoulders would rip or the buttons would pop off the chest, so it took a while until something could be form fitting but remain intact. It had gotten to the point where they opted out of sleeves altogether, they were just such a hassle. But other than that, Beel is surprisingly comfortable in a skirt. There’s no issues with the fabric needing to stretch and bend around his thighs. He could do squats for days without any tears! He does find it hard not to eat the red bows and ribbons on his outfit...they just look like pasta in the right lighting. 

Like Levi, he has a lot of scattered cleaning to keep him busy. He mows the lawn, wipes down every window, and handles the vacuuming. It's a sight to behold watching him work. At one point, he got so focused, he picked up an entire couch with just one arm as he cleaned underneath. Do you slyly hide things under couches now to have him get it? That’s a secret only you know the answer to. 

He’s very good with his tasks, but he struggles with, as Levi calls it, “Moe”. He does his best, and while he might not get the highest points in this category, just him trying is absolutely enough. He desperately wants to succeed, even if being cute is entirely new to him. 

“Here, Master, I found this flower while I was working in the garden...do you want it?” 

“Master, I...Satan has banned me from the kitchen...do you have any snacks left? I promise I’ll make up for it.”

“Master, please! Do not come in here while I am cleaning! What if something hurts you? Here, let me escort you to safety.” 

“No….I won’t accept your dinner...you--you have to eat, Master. I know it’s not your favorite, but it’s good for you.”

“Hey! Where are you trying to go while no one’s looking? It’s not safe going alone, so I will come with you. Wherever you go, Master, I will be there with you…” 

He and Lucifer make a great overprotective gang. Beel hardly ever goes against his older brother’s wishes, and in this case, he agrees that your health and safety come above all else. And only now is he worried about every little corner of the house. Boxes? Dangerous. Hot food? Dangerous. How could he live with himself if you burnt your mouth? But not to worry, he is there to make sure you are completely safe. 

On one hand, you thoroughly appreciate his consideration, but on the other, you almost miss independence. Although, everything Beel does is with a little smile and those puppy-dog eyes you never have the strength to shoo away. 

And actually, his concern did come in handy on a few occasions. There was the time where the cleaning chemicals ended up being dangerous for humans, the time a stack of boxes nearly fell on top of you, but the one you remember most, the time the lawn mower snagged on a pebble and shot it out. With incredible speed, he had tackled you to the ground. You were about to question him until the sound of breaking glass could be heard behind you. 

“That was far too close,” Beel sighed, still covering you with his body. 

His weight of pure muscle started to weigh heavy on your lungs. “B-Beel…” He quickly got up, helping you to your feet. He straightened the new wrinkles in your clothes, frowning as he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks as he checked you over for wounds. “Beel..I’m okay.” 

He let you go as you grabbed his wrists, his brows furrowed deep in worry. “See, Master, I told you it’s dangerous. We should go right to your room.” 

“You also said the same thing about my soup, Beel…but...thank you...you always know right when to get me out of trouble.” 

With that, he widely beamed. “Of course, Master. That’s my main goal. I will do anything to make sure you are safe...”

Of course, none of that changes whether Beel is a maid or not. Protection is what he does best, that and eating. Although, as a maid, you never have to worry about him stealing your food...so you at least for a bit longer, your snacks are safe. 

Belphie 

He wasn’t the biggest of fans about the notion of being a maid. It just...sounded like so much work. Endless amounts of chores and menial labor? No thank you. Other than picking up after himself and the occasional chore rotation, cleaning for him was saved for mostly punishments passed out by Lucifer. So, being a maid sounded like torture. However, three things finally convinced him to come around to the idea. One, he always enjoyed ruffling Lucifer’s feathers whenever he could, and this had a lot of potential. Two, Beel was going along with it, and usually he followed his twin wherever he went. And three, you told him it was fine that he didn’t want to do it, which suddenly persuaded him to go along. He never said that he didn’t want to, but now that you mentioned it, he was going to do the opposite. 

His uniform is extra poofy and soft. The sleeves are round, the skirt almost sticks out more than Levi’s, and his legs are covered in fleece-lined leggings. His apron and headband are covered in a cow print pattern, and a purple choker necklace decorates his neck. You attempted to coax his tail free to tie a small cowbell around the end of it, but he didn’t entertain the idea. Too noisy.

He’s mostly assigned to dust and straighten cushions and pillows. However, the idea was a bit flawed seeing as how he’d usually end up falling asleep on aforementioned pillows, only to have to have them be messed up right after he fixed them. Although, to be perfectly honest, he’d end up falling asleep no matter what chore he’d been assigned. Just seeing him work though is a feat in itself.

Belphie as a maid hardly changes a thing personality wise, he still tries to pry you away from your responsibilities, tempting you to join him in his slothful ways. So, alongside Mammon and Levi, he focuses on making you happy first and foremost, only, he hopes your wishes coincide along his own. 

“Hey, Master, you look tired, how about you come take a nap? I did just fluff up your pillows for you, don’t they look cozy?” 

“What does it matter what Lucifer suggested? You’re the Master, do whatever you want. He won’t be able to stop you.” 

“I...zzz...no don’t eat that...Beel...Huh!? No I wasn’t sleeping, Master, I was just testing this cushion’s comfort levels. It passes.” 

“Okay, I usually say it as a joke, but you’ve been up way too late, Master. Here, it’s a nice cup of hot chocolate I made for you, it should make you sleepy. Once you’re done, we’re going straight to sleep. Yes, I said we.” 

He might not have changed all too much, but he does seem a bit happier, not as nonchalant about everything, plus he does get an absolute kick out of seeing Lucifer work alongside his siblings like everyone else. Although, the nighttime is when he thrives. While everyone else is asleep, he makes nightly rounds, ensuring everyone gets good rest, even Lucifer as much as Belphie acts like he can’t stand him. 

During the night, if you can’t sleep or end up waking during odd hours, he enjoys being the only maid around. He can have you to himself, and it’s hard to deny a Master who looks as cute as you do when you’re sleepy. 

“Another restless night?” He snuck into your room without a sound. He always seemed to know when you were awake. 

“Yeah...just my brain won’t shut up I guess.” You groaned, your body trying to remind you that you were exhausted, your muscles aching as you moved. 

“That won’t do at all. As much as I would enjoy you being up with me, my Master needs good rest.” He shook his head, and held out a single finger as he told you to wait before speeding away. When he returned, he threw a few more pillows onto your bed and unfurled a different blanket. Albeit a little forcefully, he shoved you back down onto the bed, pulling the new blanket over your shoulders. It surrounded you with fuzzy warmth, your eyes already heavy. The pillows smelled like sugar and lavender. “A little bit of help from Asmo and a nice dryer.” He settled down on his knees near your bedside, telling you stories about the stars until you fell into a restful sleep. 

He might not be the best at his tasks, but he always served you in his own little ways.

[shingia]

Heya. I know this is very angsty of a request, but I saw the fic of characters reacting to their s/o who [tw] relapsed into self harm and was wondering if you would do some for asahi, ushijima, and oikawa?

[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

hi ! ofc you can honey <3 i hope these will bring you as much comfort as you need, and plz don’t hesitate to dm me if you need to talk to someone, or to reach out for help in any way. here’s a hug for you bcs you deserve it, love you 💗 

also im sorry but i really couldn’t imagine asahi ever arguing with his s/o so i didn’t include this in his fic (he really is too precious)

warnings : mentions of self harm, one mention of blood, some self-depreciating thoughts. please do not read if any of these might trigger something, stay safe everyone <3

➾ 𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐡𝐢

asahi trusted you blindly. and everyday, he had to make an effort to persuade himself that you trusted him in return. you did of course, how could you not trust the one that had helped you through so much ?

but this wasn’t about trust ; it was about shame. because the last thing you wanted was to find in his eyes the anguish and fear as they were a few months ago. you couldn’t do that to him, yet you kept doing that to yourself.

however, you had the misfortune - which was more of a blessing really - to have a very observant boyfriend who cared about you. and he cared enough to gather the courage to finally ask you about what he had hoped you’d come to him for. sat next to you on the couch, he took the plunge. 

« do you… do you remember when you promised to always come to me if you needed help ? ». there, he had said it. and from the way that his arm tightened encouragingly around your waist, you understood what he meant by this innocent question. he kept speaking : « you know i trust you, right ? i really do. but something tells me that maybe you forgot about this promise recently ».

each of his words was carefully chosen, more than usual. because even if he didn’t show you, he was terrified of messing up. the fact that you were reluctant to answer was enough for him to understand that he had guessed right. but what confirmed it was the single tear that slowly streamed down your cheek.

« oh angel, no, come here. come, you’re ok now… » he spoke in a tone that was more comforting that anything you had ever heard. his arms were wide open for you to snuggle in, and when they wrapped around you, his words replayed once again in your head. i’m ok now, i’m ok now… you repeated internally. and you were, asahi was a man of his words after all.

« i’m sorry for being weak » you finally said after a few seconds of silence, voice half-muffled by his embrace. his warm fingers traced the outline of your face, encouraging you to look up to him. not because he needed to see your face, he already knew it by heart, but because you needed to see his. « weak ? y-you’re the furthest thing from weak. how can i even put it..? you are one of the strongest person i know, and i wouldn’t be half the man i am today if it weren’t for you. 

you wanted to thank him, but exhaustion took hold of your body before any word could leave your tight throat. and when you woke up - two hours later according to the clock - asahi was still there, holding you tight against his heart like a promise to never let go of you anymore.

➾ 𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚

ushijima hated to waste time and energy on ‘petty fights’, as he liked to call them. but it was really frustrating to always feel like he avoided confrontation ; arguments were necessary in a relationship, and he didn’t seem to understand that.

whenever you got into fights, you were always the only one to get angry, which never failed to make you feel guilty afterwards. and eventually, this feeling of guilt started to become permanent, taking so much place in your brain that you had to sacrifice a part of the self-confidence you had built up the past months. but you didn’t know how much longer you could conceal it.

tonight was the first time you were sleeping together since your most recent fight, the one that had damaged you so badly. and you couldn’t lie, feeling his warmth next to you after about three days spent ignoring him almost felt like a reward. but a reward for what ? you were certainly not proud of what you had done, and you were terrified at the thought that he’d ever notice it. but unfortunately, your efforts to pretend like everything was ok were put to an end in the middle of the night, at about 3 am. something silly, really : ushijima had just turned around in his sleep, and his shoulder accidentally weighed on your wrist, making you hiss in pain. he immediately opened his eyes at the sound, his hand immediately finding its way to your side - he was always a light sleeper with you.

« are you ok ? » he asked, propping himself on an elbow, barely distinguishing your silhouette in the dark. « yeah, just my wrist. come on, let’s go back to sl- ». oh… that wasn’t supposed to be said out loud. it was hard to gauge his reaction since you could not properly see his face, but since he sat on the bed as soon as you interrupted yourself, you understood that it had not fallen on deaf ears. « are you comfortable with me turning on the lights ? » he asked, obvious concern in his voice. saying yes was tempting, because you knew this was a serious matter, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him see you like this, vulnerable and ashamed.

ushijima accepted it of course, he knew he was not the best with words, so the least he could do was to make sure you were comfortable with whatever he decided to do. « is it ok if i hold you ? » he asked once again, his tone a bit more hesitant. the muscles in your jaw tensed at his words, it was more than ok, or at least you wanted to give it a try, but the worry you had caused him was bringing you back to the familiar feeling of guilt.

however, when he carefully made you rest on top of him like he had always done, something inside you felt healed to know that whatever you were going through did not impact every aspect of your life. his embrace felt the same, so did his heaving chest that rocked your body to sleep every night. surprisingly enough, you did not shed a tear. because the comfort finally felt stronger than the pain, you refused to let anything trouble this moment.

« are you ready to talk about it ? » he questioned, his voice rumbling like a soothing storm in his chest « or do you prefer to wait until tomorrow ? ».

ushijima might have avoided many discussions with you, but this one ? he simply refused to. and if he was more than ready to help you overcome your pain, he also knew not to pressure you into talking. words would come, eventually. but actions were always first.

➾ 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

despite his usually confident behavior, oikawa knew he had a tendency to second-guess each and every one of his actions, and to beat himself up quite often.

he could not remember the last time he had felt so utterly disgusted by himself, he was usually more careful with his words. but all it took was one angry outburst from him for you to withdraw into yourself - and he had to fix this as soon as possible.

luckily for him, your relationship was strong enough not to be too affected by this argument - which had not been your first, but definitely the biggest one. however, you had been affected. a lot actually. but you knew better than to talk to him about this, knowing that he would obviously take the blame for your relapse.

but oikawa was attentive, and, clever as he was, it did not take long for him to guess what you were going through when he saw the red-stained tissues in the bathroom trash. it had been two weeks since your fight, and just the thought that he had left you alone with your struggles for so long made him want to throw up.

without wasting any more second, he burst out of the bathroom and made his way to the living room where you were absent-mindedly watching a movie. he would have preferred to have a discussion with you with a clear head, but the sight of the tissues kept spiraling in his head and he was incapable of doing anything else but to pull you in for a hug whose suddenness made you gasp.

oikawa’s hugs were usually soft, with little kisses here and there and a few compliments chuckled in your ear. but today had nothing to do with those. his arms were engulfing your figure in a desperate need to feel you against him, like he was trying to make up for all the time he had left you alone. « i’m so sorry, so sorry baby… can you forgive me ? » he breathed out, his voice cracking with emotion. obviously you knew what he was referring to, how could you not know ? and just like him, the thousand words on your mind only transcribed in your arms wrapping around him, closing the last few millimeters that separated you as you frantically nodded your head yes. 

you did not think he had anything to be forgiven for, and sadly, you also knew that he would continue to blame himself no matter what your answer had been. that was actually your biggest motivation to begin your recovery journey. oikawa needed to know that, from now on, you’d turn to him instead of your old habits. and you wanted nothing more than to make him happy, so, since his happiness seemed to depend on yours, it could be considered a package deal towards a better future, together.

before you leave, here are links to two mental health support apps that i hope will help you deal what you are going through right now. i know it’s not much but i’ll be the happiest girl if this helped someone in the tiniest way. take care of yourselves ❤️

Calm Harm - Play Store | App Store

Wysa - Play Store | App Store

@toworuu @catwithangerissues

[shadowfae]

hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

[hallowxiu]

An Unlikely Reunion

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 3.6k

summary: Having been separated from Mammon for the last several months, you head to the council room to meet the new exchange student. You probably should have expected this outcome.

a/n: sorry this update took so long. my sister was in town visiting for the holidays and just recently left. here’s the third part of the human!mammon & demon!mc series :)

part one | part two

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen Mammon. You were unsure if he had even noticed your swift disappearance, given you’d only ran into each other on three separate occasions. You’d be lying to yourself if you said the entire situation hadn’t bothered you. You were practically under house arrest for the last two or three months. Had it been longer than that? You stopped counting. 

You were still expected to do your chores and duties, but you were forbidden from traveling to other realms. Not that you had an urge to pop into the Celestial Realm, but even that was off-limits now too (you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed there in the first place). In other events, Lord Diavolo had recently approved of a new exchange program that would take place within the next few days. The Devildom would be hosting two human students, as well as two angels. You found it interesting, though you knew Lucifer was more than likely against it from the start. Still, you had found the idea of it ridiculous at first; humans were allowed to visit the Devildom and yet you were still in trouble for running off to the human realm? 

Belphegor did not take the news well when it first broke. Beelzebub had to pick the demon up and carry him back to their shared room before he destroyed the entire living room. He had been screaming and shouting until the door of their room quietly clicked shut. He kept it up, too, despite Lucifer warning him to drop the act. He made sure to remind Diavolo whenever he got the chance that he’d regret this decision and that nothing good ever came from the human race. You were honestly surprised that Lucifer never punished him, and you were even more surprised when it was revealed that Belphegor would be the demon traveling to the human realm as an exchange student. If you were being honest, you didn’t believe it at first. How did Lord Diavolo and Lucifer get him to agree to such a thing? Besides the youngest born holding a deep hatred for humans, he’d never been away from his twin, Beelzebub, for too long either. 

He was gone now; he left two days ago. You were hurt when you found out he left without a goodbye, and you knew Beelzebub shared your thoughts when you caught the expression on his face when Lucifer broke the news. Other than that, not much has happened since you last saw Mammon. 

With Belphegor taking his leave early, only two days remained before the exchange program would begin. Servants and demons alike had been bustling around the Devildom to make everything ready for the new students. This was a matter of war or not, as this could potentially bring peace between the three realms. You weren’t complaining; you liked the idea of not having war constantly looming over your head. 

“I wonder what kind of human Lord Diavolo ended up selecting for the program.” Asmodeus was painting his nails from where he lounged on the couch. You were sitting on the other end, scrolling through your D.D.D while listening to your brother gossip for the last several minutes. Since Belphegor left, Asmodeus had been insistent that the two of you spend more time together. You weren’t sure why he wanted the sudden attention from you, but if you had to guess you’d say he missed his baby brother. You thought it was cute. 

But of course, hanging out with Asmodeus doesn’t come without a price. For you, it was listening to endless gossip for hours on end. “Hopefully one that doesn’t start trouble wherever they go.” 

“That would make it interesting though, don’t you think? It’d be boring if they were like Lucifer or Satan, always following the rules.” 

“Satan doesn’t always follow the rules.” You commented and glanced over at the other. “At least when it comes to Lucifer, anyway.” 

“He might egg on the human if they cause trouble. Anything to annoy Lucifer.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he thinks over the endless possibilities. “I hope they’re cute. I haven’t slept with a human in a while.”

“Gross.” 

“What? I thought you of all demons would appreciate that statement.” You quirked an eyebrow at his comment, though you opted not to say anything. Sometimes it was better to let Asmodeus think he was in the right. You looked up from your spot on the couch upon hearing someone enter the room. A smile graced your lips when seeing that it was Beelzebub. 

“Did you come to keep us company?” To say the sixth born had been lonely since Belphegor left would be an understatement. He had trouble sleeping, keeping himself invested in conversations, and he even had some trouble eating. It made your chest feel lighter to see the demon out and about instead of sulking in his room. Had he spent another day locked away in his room, you would have dragged him out. Perhaps this was for the best that he was coming out willingly. 

“I did.” Was all the redhead commented. Asmodeus sat up to give him room, the larger demon sitting between the two of you. He brought snacks with him, settling them down on the coffee table. “Feel free to have some.” You and Asmodeus exchange looks with one another. It was unlike Beelzebub to share his food with anyone other than Belphegor. He must still be feeling the effects of the younger being away. “He hasn’t answered my texts yet.” There was a frown on his lips, almost resembling a child’s pout. 

“Remember what Lucifer said? It might take a couple of days for Belphie to get settled down. Plus, I’m sure he’s going through a lot emotionally right now. I’m sure he’ll answer once he’s feeling more comfortable.” You reassuringly rubbed the side of his arm and Asmodeus nodded in agreement. 

“Belphie would never ignore you. I think he’s physically incapable of it.” Asmodeus’ comment seemed to put him more at ease, his shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“And you know he’d never approve of you locking yourself away in your room. You’re not a hermit.” You gently chided your younger brother. 

“Your name isn’t Leviathan,” Asmodeus said with a grin and you leaned over to gently swat at his knee. 

“Be nice.” You warned lightly. 

You found yourself standing in the council room with Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and the rest of your brothers excluding Belphegor. Today would be the day the exchange students were revealed. Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you were curious to see who the human would be and what they’d act like. There was a lot of secrecy surrounding the human, Lord Diavolo unwilling to spare any details, even with Lucifer. You had wondered why, but Lord Diavolo was a hard man to read. Whether it had any significant meaning or not, you didn’t know. You looked around the large room, trying to see if you could pick out an unfamiliar face. When you couldn’t, your eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. “Where--”

Before you could finish your question, a flash of bright light filled the room, nearly blinding you and your brothers in the process. Over the next couple of seconds, the light’s intensity dwindled until the light was no longer there. Slowly blinking the light from your eyes, you see a human standing in the middle of the room, their back facing you. A snicker left Satan who stood behind you. 

“Welcome to the Devildom- oh.” There was a falter in Diavolo’s speech. “It seems we caught you at a bad time.” Laughter budded within your chest when seeing that the human was only dressed in a bath towel. Did they seriously give the human no warning before summoning them to the Devildom? Talk about unlucky. 

“What the- where the hell am I?” All the color drained from your face upon hearing that all too familiar voice. Oh no. Talk about unlucky. 

“Welcome to the Devildom, Mammon.” There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he spoke. You were sure he regretted his lack of proper planning now. You were secretly glad something finally came back to bite him in the ass. Of course, having said that, this was also coming back to bite you in the ass. “You look a little disorientated, but there’s no need to worry. You’ll adjust to the Devildom soon enough.”

“Or, hear me out, maybe I look disorientated because I was just steppin’ out of the damn shower, gettin’ ready for work, and then I found myself in some strange ass room surrounded by a group of men. I don’t know about ya, but that’s not the kinda work I do.” You silently put a hand to your mouth, fighting back laughter. Oh, this was most definitely not good. Of all humans to select, of course, Lord Diavolo picked Mammon, because why wouldn’t he? He did not know who he was speaking to, and even if he had, you weren’t sure that would have changed anything. 

Glancing behind you, you could tell Satan was already keen on the human. Mammon was doing a good job of flustering Lord Diavolo, and therefore getting underneath Lucifer’s skin. Looking to your left, you could tell Asmodeus was also keen on him, though that could simply be because he was only dressed in a towel. The strangest things always seemed to excite your brother. The rest of your brothers looked amused but other than that you couldn’t get a read on them. 

“Right, well I believe an introduction is in order, don’t you think?” Of course, he gave no time for Mammon to answer. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway. “My name is Lord Diavolo and I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me. And now, you do too.” There’s a smile on his face as he greeted Mammon. Although you couldn’t see his face yourself, you doubt he’s impressed. “And someday soon, I will be crowned the King of the Devildom.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” 

“We’re currently in the council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, but we call it RAD for short,” he didn’t answer him, which was probably the smart thing to do, “this is the building where you’ll be taking all of your classes.” 

“Why am I here?” There’s an exhausted tone to Mammon’s voice. 

“I will be more than willing to explain everything to you.” Lucifer stepped in, a chilling smile on his face and Mammon instinctively took a step back. “My name is Lucifer and I’m the Avatar of Pride.” 

“He’s also the vice president of the council and my right-hand man! I’d even go as far as saying that we’re best friends.” You watched as Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at Diavolo’s interjection. “We tell each other everything.” Satan snickered again and you have a hard time keeping the grin off your face. 

“Lord Diavolo, please.” There’s an exasperated look on his face before addressing Mammon once again. 

“What the actual fuck is goin’ on?” Mammon’s rubbing at his temples in frustration. “Lucifer? Like, the devil? Oh god, I must have slipped while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my skull open or somethin’. I bet I’m bleedin’ out on my floor as we speak.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out for almost the entirety of Lucifer’s speech as he caught Mammon up with everything. You were too distracted by the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears. You were staring at Mammon’s back, with such an intensity that Asmodeus cleared his throat from beside you. You didn’t mind; you were too busy trying to think of a way out of this. What would Mammon do the moment he turns around and sees you? Would he make a scene? Call you out by name? Lucifer wanted the human you spent your time with dead; what would he do if he found out that human was Mammon? 

Your attention was quickly brought back to reality when you realized Lucifer was introducing everyone. Unfortunately for you, you had never been a great actor, and lying was not your strong suit. You watched in silent horror as Lucifer began to introduce your brothers in no particular order, before landing on you. You felt the sweat beading on your forehead as you locked eyes with Mammon from across the room. His eyes widened dramatically, and you suddenly found yourself praying that he would not make a fool of himself in front of everyone. Your mouth ran dry as you could only stare in return. You were speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Thankfully you didn’t need to, as Lucifer was speaking once again. “You can pick which one of us you’d like to watch over you during your stay here. You should feel honored, usually, we would just assign you to someone without you even getting a say in the matter. I would recommend myself or even--”

“You.” Mammon’s pointing at you before Lucifer could finish his sentence. “I want you to watch over me.” The room grew silent during the exchange between the two of you. You were sure everyone was suspicious now; why wouldn’t they be? What human is so eager to pick from a batch of demons he’s never met before? If he never met you, he wouldn’t have chosen so quickly, and he wouldn’t have cut off Lucifer to do so, and he most certainly wouldn’t have--

“Very well then.” Lord Diavolo was smiling as he looked over the room. “Mammon, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in good hands. An excellent pick of a demon, second only to Lucifer. While they can stir up a bit of trouble from time to time, I think you’ll find yourself relatively safe by their side for the most part.” Relatively safe? And for the most part? Gee, thanks, you think to yourself with narrowed eyes. 

As soon as Lord Diavolo called the meeting to a close, you darted out of there with Mammon. He struggled to keep up with your pace, though he managed for the most part. Most of the brothers assumed your odd behavior was simply because you didn’t want to bother looking out for a human and you were secretly glad that’s what they thought. “You need to be more careful when speaking to Lord Diavolo.” You said as the two of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon was stomping around in only a towel. It was almost comical if you weren’t so terrified of the outcome of the exchange program. “Lucifer will wring your neck if you disrespect him.” Mammon only huffed in response. 

“Ya have some explainin’ to do, demon.” 

“I know.” A sigh left you as your head started to throb from the conversation that had yet to begin. 

“Like why ya just upped and disappeared and shit, then I turn around and find ya in some weird shady place.” 

“The council room is hardly a shady place.” 

“Are ya bein’ for real?” He gave you an unconvinced look. “Although I guess now it makes sense how you were able to scare those thugs off. Some demonic shit or somethin’.” 

“You have to stop swearing so much. Lucifer will get annoyed.” You ran a hand over your face to smoothen out your features. Oh, this would be a long, long year. 

“Lucifer this, Lucifer that. Is all ya ever think about Lucifer?”

“The man who can and will rip my head off for misbehaving? Yes. And I’m already on thin ice with him. He got super pissed when he found out I snuck off to the human realm again. I’m surprised I’m not wearing a house arrest bracelet right now.” You make a point of keeping Mammon by your side, lest he wanders off and gets eaten by a demon. 

“So that’s the reason ya didn’t come back?” You glanced back at him, confused as to why he was asking.

“Yeah. I wasn’t allowed to. He even went as far as going to Lord Diavolo to make sure I don’t travel anywhere.” You didn’t feel too comfortable airing out all your problems with Lucifer to Mammon. Call yourself crazy, but he didn’t exactly give you vibes that he was great with secrets. Lucifer finding out you were unhappy with him through a human? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a fun day for any of you. 

“I still think I’m dreamin’ this all up. That, or I really did fall while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my head wide open.” 

“I can assure you that you are neither dreaming nor bleeding out in your shitty apartment bathroom.” There was a grin on your lips as you spoke. “Now, walk faster. We need to get back to my house before a demon sweeps you up and runs away. You’re literally parading around in a towel; you might as well be serving yourself on a silver platter.”

“It’s not like it was in my control.” 

“Still, we should hurry. Your soul is practically glowing.” 

“Ya still have explainin’ to do.”

“Are you serious?” You grabbed him by the arm to quicken his pace. “I already told you. I snuck to the human realm, met you on accident, ran into you on the street, then again at the cafe, and then a third time at night.”

“Makes ya sound like a stalker.” There’s a sly grin on his lips and you feel your eye twitch.

“I’m not a stalker. They were all coincidences. Like I’d go out of my way to find you. Don’t get cocky, you’re only a human after all.” A chill settles over you. Okay, maybe you had gone out of your way once or twice, but he didn’t need to know that. “Besides, it happens all the time. I’ve lived hundreds and hundreds of years. You think you’re the only human I’ve ever bumped into on the street?”

“No,” there’s a thoughtful look on his face as he gripped his towel with his free hand to keep it from falling, “but I bet I’m the only human you’ve ever gone out of your way to save.” Your eyes narrowed and you huff quietly. 

“Hey, don’t go spreading that around. You’ll ruin my reputation, you know.” To this, you only hear a quiet chuckle from Mammon. 

With the two of you standing outside the House of Lamentation, you dug for your keys in your pocket. Mammon shifted uncomfortably behind you. “Would ya mind hurryin’ it up? Some of us are practically naked out here.” 

“Announce it louder; maybe another demon will take you off my hands.” You chuckled to yourself when hearing an annoyed sigh from behind you. “Be patient.” You scolded lightly as you went to unlock the door. With the turn of the key, the door opens to reveal the inside of the house. Mammon shuffles in nervously behind you, his eyes anxiously taking everything in.

“Sure is, uh, roomy.” 

“You’re back.” Mammon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Lucifer. He quickly moved behind you, anxiously peering over your shoulder. 

“Yes, well, it turns out Mammon is quite the slow walker.” You ignored the look on Lucifer’s face and gave Mammon a reassuring smile. “Well? Let’s go; you want to see your room, don’t you? You’ll be given a change of clothes there.” 

“Say no more.” Mammon’s hurrying down the hall before you can say anything else, leaving you and Lucifer alone for the moment. 

“It seems friendly with you.” His tone is accusatory, and while you have an idea of what he’s implying, you try not to let it show on your face. Sometimes, playing dumb when around Lucifer was the best action to take. 

“I suppose.” You played it off. “I think the human is just nervous to be in the Devildom. Can you blame it?” You flinch at the usage of your own words. You didn’t like referring to Mammon that way, but it might make Lucifer less suspicious of you the more detached you sound. “Humans aren’t exactly meant for the Devildom, and it doesn’t help that Lord Diavolo summoned it in just a towel. Might as well stuff an apple in it’s mouth and put it on a plate.” Lucifer seemed to take your words into consideration before a sigh escaped his lips. 

“You may have a point.” You felt the tension begin to leave your body. “The human was quick to select you. You don’t find that odd?”

“I think you’re just intimidating.” 

“And you aren’t? You’re no less intimidating than the others. It could have picked anyone, yet it settled for you. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before you were selected. There also,” there’s a pause in Lucifer’s speech, as if he’s carefully forming a sentence in his mind, “never mind that. Just do your job and make sure a demon doesn’t pluck the human like a fruit hanging from a tree. We’ll be meeting the rest of the exchange students tomorrow, as well as attending classes, so make sure the two of you get enough rest tonight. I will not tolerate anyone skipping the first day of classes, nor will I excuse any tardiness.” 

And with that he’s gone, making his way back toward his office. A sigh of relief left you before you snapped out of your daze. “Shit,” you swore silently. Mammon didn’t know where his room was.