#only pride etcetera)

[lou-struck]

Operation: Stay Away Cupid Pt. 3

OM Brothers & Datables x reader

Featuring: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Still in the dark about the details of Solomons prank you continue on with your Valentines dates with the brothers. But after awhile you begin to realize that there is something they are not telling you.

Part 1

Part 2

a/n: wow this has taken awhile! My bad!

Part 3 ~

Mammon’s feet have never moved so fast as he rushes back to the House of Lamination to find Lucifer. He swears he saw Cupid’s arrows fly by your head. 

If it had hit you, would you really belong to someone else? 

It makes him feel sick to his stomach, and he hopes that this cupid thing doesn’t get its hands on you. 

He bursts through the doors to Lucifer’s study, only to find Levi already there. The Otaku is panting even heavier than Mammon is despite being in the office longer.

“Wh… You…. MC…” he pants out, doubled over from the overwhelming amount of cardio he has done today. 

“Sit down, Mammon,” his elder brother says, gesturing to the vacant seat next to the frightened Otaku. 

“Sit down? The Great Mammon will not sit down.” he breathes, puffing out his chest, ready to face off against his older brother. Typically he would’ve just sat to save his own skin, but today, if different, you are in danger. Something is out there trying to steal your heart.

“Mammon,” his brother says sternly. His eyes glanced down at the seat next to Levi as one final gesture before the Avatar of Pride truly loses his patience with his younger brother. “Solomon tricked us; it was only a prank.”

“A prank?” I saw one of those damn magic arrows fly past mc’s had at the races.” Mammon argues, still feeling very worried about you running off into the sunset with some strange magic baby thing.

“An illusion, I’m sure,” Lucifer replies. “Leviathan saw enchanted floating hearts during his date and almost fainted.”

“That true?”

Levi nods, too tired to speak at the moment. Looking to Lucifer to continue the explanation.

“When Mc and I were having our Valentine’s Date, they talked about some human world traditions for the holiday and brought up Cupid themselves. They mentioned that they don’t exist, and we continued on with our romantic date, kissing, chocolates, dancing, etcetera.” Lucifer didn’t have to mention that last part, but it fills him with pride to know that he was the first one to have your lips that day and Mammon knows it.

“Wh- you mean that I ruined a perfectly good afternoon with MY Human because of a little prank?” Mammon stammers, clenching his tanned fist so tightly he is surprised they haven’t fallen off yet. “That shady sorcerer has another thing coming.”

“Yea, Mc and I are going to have to redo our isolation date,” Levi whines at last, his amber eyes blazing with envy. “We didn’t even get to finish our milkshake.”

“That is true, but so far, the two of you haven’t ruined their day; in fact, it’s quite the opposite.” Lucifer hums, “Our dear human, for some reason, loves the chaos you create and will find something to enjoy no matter what. Solomon, of course, will have to reimburse the two of you for any expenses you incurred during your dates, but for now, we shouldn’t tell the others.”

“Operation Stay Away Cupid is still a go? Levi asks. “But why?”

“Damn stupid name for an operation,” Mammon grumbles, picking at his armchair. 

Lucifer laughs, swatting his brother’s hand from the upholstery. “Because it makes sure the six of you keep your eyes on Mc during your date. The others will figure it out soon, but I have a feeling a few of them have caught on to this little ruse of Solomon’s.”

“Like who?” Mammon wonders aloud…

~

Satan ~

Surprisingly, you haven’t seen anything of the Avatar of Wrath today. Surely he would’ve tried to do something to interrupt your date with Lucifer.

After running across the Devildom on your strange yet enjoyable dates with a Mammon and Leviathan, you excitedly head to Satan’s room for a change of pace. The gift you had prepared for him tucked neatly under your arm. Not bothering with knocking, you let yourself into his room as the gentle smell of paper and earl gray tea reaches your nose.

“Is that you, Mc?” his voice calls from somewhere behind the mountain of books near the wall. “I’ll be right out.”

“I’m here.” you smile, stepping toward the center of his room. “I know I’m a bit early, so there is no need to rush.”

“I’m almost ready,” he calls, are your ears pick up on a faint rustling sound. He must be ignoring your previous statement. It’s only a few seconds until you see him come out from behind the book wall wheeling out a little cart with a peaceful smile on his face as he meets your gaze.

“Oh, what’s all this?” you ask, setting the gift down onto one of the many stacks of books that must be older than your grandparents, a step closer to looking at the contents of the cart. It is filled with a strange assortment of art supplies, including thread, glue, thick blank sheets of cardboard, and various paints and stamps.

“Just a little activity for us to do.” He explains, bringing the cart to a stop and walking toward you, holding out what looks to be a gold-leafed book without its cover. “I heard book binding was getting quite trendy in some areas of the human world, so I thought It would be fun if we could decorate the cover of one of your favorite novels.”

“That sounds amazing; you are so creative when it comes to things like this.” you beam. “I think we will have so much fun, but I have never done this before, so you may need to help me.”

“I would be delighted to,” he hums, glancing back at the window. 

‘Has it always been boarded up like this?’ you wonder before the handsome Demon recaptures your attention.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, MC,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms almost protectively around your waist. When you hug him back, you swear he starts purring like a cat.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, scratching the top of his hair and messing with his blond strands. “I have a gift for you too.” You pull away just enough to grab his present, clad in the cheesy kitten-themed wrapping paper you found while in the human world. 

His eyes widen when he notices the adorable wrapping, and he takes it from you, holding the gift gently as if it is made of the brittlest of glass. “Thank you so much,” he murmurs, undoing the ribbon with an even pull. 

“You can open it faster, you know,” you point out as he carefully slices through the tape, not tearing the paper in the slightest. 

“But then I would rip the paper, and I cannot bring myself to ruin such perfect paper,” he says defensively at last opening the gift. 

On the outside, the cardboard box is modeled to look like a book, but on the inside, there are different themed chocolate truffles that are set to match some literary classics from the human world. When you say this at a small bookshop, you know this would be the perfect gift for Satan, and judging by the elated grin on his face, you realize you were right.

“This is wonderful,” he breathes, reading the little key on the top of the box. I believe I will have to try each chocolate while I reread the novels they are inspired from.

He looks so excited at the excuse to spend even more time reading it makes you giggle. “I’m so happy you liked the gift. It’s then you notice a bright pink stack of paper and other reading materials on the little side table next to his usual reading chair. 

“Oh, how cute, it’s Cupid,” you say, picking up the image of the winged baby on the glittery card. “I didn’t realize you guys had him down here.”

Setting down his present Satan comes up behind you placing his head on your shoulder as you read the card. “We don’t; these are from the human world.”

“I see; then how did you end up with these cards?” you ask cautiously, features falling slightly, “You don’t have other valentines from the human world, right?”

“No!” he says much louder than anticipated, “you know you’re the only one I feel this way towards. I just bought these for research purposes.”

“Research? About the holiday?” You ask, raising a brow. Strangely, you feel like you had this conversation with Lucifer only a few hours ago. 

“Y-yes, the holiday. He replies simply, a pink blush settling on his cheeks. What you don’t realize is that Satan’s mind is currently processing the fact that he had been tricked by the sorcerer. You had never been in any danger. “You humans certainly have wild imaginations when it comes to magic.”

“That we do,” you say proudly. As the two of you begin your book binding date. 

In the back of your mind, however, you are beginning to realize that there is something suspicious going on with the Brothers.

Asmodeus~ 

Asmodeus looks even more handsome than ever as he giddily leads you down a cobblestone pathway to the river. “Just wait until you see the romantic date I have planned for us, Hun.” he purrs, looking at you with such intensity your knees wobble slightly. 

You may be immune to the charming effect of his eyes, but the Avatar of Lust never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.

“I can’t wait,” you say earnestly, giving his ringed hand a little squeeze. After some of the strange encounters, you have had with the others today, a cutesy, stereotypic Valentine’s date is just what you need to give you a sense of normalcy. And maybe a little PDA, but come on, this Asmodeus we are talking about here, PDA is normal.

“He flashes you a brilliant smile and takes you on to a lightly stained wooden dock overlooking the river. “Alright, surprise.” He gestures to a white-painted rowboat with the cutest little bucket of demonus placed perfectly on the seat. He looks a bit nervous as he looks back at you with pink cheeks. “D-do you like it?” 

“I love it,” you say, allowing him to eagerly guide you into the little boat that magically does not rock at all, “This setup looks like it came right out of Devilgram.”

At your praise, his smile gets just a bit sweeter. “I’m glad you think so, darling. I want this little date of ours to be as romantic as possible.” he coos, sliding into the seat next to you; closing the little space between the two of you is second nature to him by now, and you love his teasing little touches with all your heart. 

Without even touching the oars, the boat begins to move on its own, riding the rapids and carrying your lovebirds farther and farther from the dock. You look to Asmo with confusion as you wait for him to give you an explanation. 

“Nothing to worry about, hun; the boat is enchanted to steer us through the river safely. Think of it as an enchanted lazy river ride.” he giggles, popping open the cork of the bubbly demonus and pouring the light pink liquid into the heart-shaped flutes. 

“You certainly were made for Valentine’s Day, Asmo.” you giggle, accepting the flute from his freshly manicured hands. “Oh, before I forget, I have a gift for you.” reaching into your bag, you pull out a long parcel adorned with the biggest pink ribbon you could find and give it to him. 

“For me?” he asks seductively. “Doll, you know all I really want from you is a bit of alone time.”

Your skin heats up at his not-so-family-friendly insulation, but you compose yourself quickly. “True, but I think you deserve something else today as well.”

“Oh, aren’t you a tease.” he laughs, carefully opening the gift, The sweet specialty cologne in the gold and crystal molded rose bottle. “This is lovely,” his eyes shine in wonder as he spritzes a bit on himself. 

The scent is even better than it was in the department store you found it in. “Smells good. Do you like your gift?”

“I love it,” he purrs, leaning in close. Just as he is about to take your lips with his own. A single white feather floats between your faces, tickling your nose slightly. 

“That’s strange; I haven’t seen any birds out.” you hum, turning your attention to the feather that floats down the river further and further away from you. 

You may not have an inhuman smell, but there was something familiar about the smell of the feather. Perhaps Asmo knows where it came from.

“It looks like someone has been bad,” you hear him mutter darkly, the statement pulling your gaze from the water and up at the Avatar of Lust.

“Asmo?” you ask, taking in the annoyed expression on the Demon’s face. “Is something wrong?”

The dangerous expression melts away once he looks back at you, and it is replaced with a deep and genuine smile. “Not at all, dear; that little feather just smelled like a friend of mine; it put me in a sour mood thinking about them at a time like this,” he replies, waving the whole thing off. 

“A friend?” you ask curiously. “What did they do to make you so angry with them?”

He gives you a soft smile and cups your cheek. “Oh, nothing, then just lied to me about something rather important.”

Beelzebub~

The Giant box of chocolates you are hauling to Beel’s room strains your muscles, but you are determined to get it to him in one piece. It takes far longer than you had anticipated, but you are now outside the double door leading to the twin’s room, where your sixth Valentine’s date of the day awaits. After the first five dates, you are definitely feeling a bit peckish and hope whatever Beel has planned for the two of you involves some food. 

How on earth are you going to let yourself into the room? The heavy box in your hands has you quite occupied. Just as you are about to try and open the door with your foot, it swings open to reveal the massive physique of Beel on the other side.

His eyes light up when he sees you, “Oh Mc, you’re here. I thought I heard something.” he smiles cutely. “Do you need any help with that box?”

Too out of breath to answer with your words, you nod urgently. He takes the box and walks further into the room with it as if it were as light as the wight feather you saw while out on the river.

“Thank you, Beel,” you breathe, “Your gift was too heavy for me to carry on my own.”

His cheeks turn a deep crimson color as he stares down at the massive heart-shaped box curiously. “This is all for me?” 

“Of course it is,” you laugh, “I think you have the biggest sweet tooth out of everyone.”

“Can I open it?” he asks shyly. He looks like he is holding himself back from tearing into the gift for your sake; it’s too cute, so you nod.

He pop’s off the lid quickly to see the layers, and layers, and layers of human world Valentine’s Day chocolate. 

“Ohh, more human world treats,” he hums dreamily, licking his lips.

“More?” you ask curiously, looking to him for an explanation.

“Oh,” he sighs with chocolate already in his mouth, “Those heart candies Solomon gave everyone earlier were delicious; I wonder if he has an~” he pauses and looks as if he had said too much. “N-nothing, Mc. I don’t know what I am saying.

“Oh?” you frown as you try to figure out if this little meeting supposedly everyone had with Solomon has something to do with how strange everyone had been acting today. 

“Oh right, I still have to give you my gift,” he says, changing the subject with an absentminded smile. “It’s in the kitchen. Will you come with me?”

It’s not fair to waste your time with Beel playing detective, so you agree happily, but as you start to follow him, you realize that your legs are still tired from hauling his gift up the stairs.

“Are you tired?” he asks, “I can carry you.”

Before he can even finish asking, you hold out your arms so it is easier for him to scoop you up. “Yes, please.” you giggle as he does just that. You feel so safe and secure in his arms as he walks the familiar path toward the kitchen. 

The kitchen is unusually clean as he sits you down on one of the tall bar stools next to the island. On the counter lies a big bowl of freshly washed Blood Strawberries and smaller bowls filled with various kinds of melted chocolate and sprinkles.

“It’s not much, but I heard Chocolate covered strawberries are popular for people who like each other to share during Valentine’s Day,” he mumbles. “I asked Lucifer to enchant the doors earlier so I wouldn’t be able to come in here without you, so I wouldn’t eat it all.” 

Beel waited to eat?

The sweet sentiment makes your heart skip a beat as you look at the range-haired Demon affectionately. 

“This looks delicious, Beel. Let’s start making some; I hate to steal your line, but I am really hungry right now.” you tease, grabbing one of the berries and taking a well-deserved bite.

Belphie ~

This little Valentine’s date marathon you have been on today is far from over, but after making and eating your fill of chocolate-covered strawberries with Beel, you are beginning to feel a bit fatigued from the whole thing.

 With Belphie’s little gift bag secure in your arms, you walk up the long spiral staircase to the observatory for your date; you wonder what the Avatar of Sloth has planned for you and if he will act with the same mysterious cautiousness the others had had throughout the day. The doors part for you as you enter, hitting you with a gentle breeze that carries the smell of lavender.

The room has been completely cleared out of all furniture safe for the telescope; now, two easels adorned with black canvases and a cart full of silvery paints stand proudly in the center of the room, along with what looks to be a fairy lumpy mattress. 

It’s strange; the little mattress seems to be moving slightly. Your feet tread lightly across the ground so as to not disturb the breathing lump of blankets and pillows.

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep without me?.” you call teasingly, looking down at the drowsy brother, Belphie stirs and pokes his head out from under the pile and rubs his eyes. Shifting to a more comfortable position on the mattress. He smoothes out the ruffled blanket on his lap and gives you a big smile.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. “I just wanted to make sure our spot was comfy.”

“And was it?” 

“Very,” he hums, sinking into the pile of pillows, “would you like to try it out?”

“I do, but first, I have to give you your gift,” you say, holding out the light purple gift bag eagerly. So far, all of the brothers have loved your spin on valentines Day gifts, so you hope that he will appreciate the thought you put behind his as well. 

He sits up straighter and eyes the bag curiously. “You got me something too?”

“Of course I did,” you beam, watching as he crinkles the tissue paper. “But if you don’t want it, I can take it back.”

“Hmmm, sorry, no take-backs.” he laughs, pulling the paper out of the bag. And pulling out the foil-wrapped chocolate bars. “Oh, these look different than the treats you brought back from the human world last time.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” you chuckle, “These are special chocolates that are made to help you sleep. It’s a good nighttime snack that can calm you down and hopefully give you good dreams.”

His eyes widen as he reads the back of the packaging. “They really can help me sleep?” he asks. “We should try them right away.”

You briefly glance back at the prepared date supplies before looking back at him. Your tiredness wins over your curiosity. “I could use a rest; I’ll share a piece with you.”

He gives you a smile of soft victory and breaks off a piece of chocolate. He then breaks the large square in two.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out the larger half to you. “My brothers must have thrown a lot at you today; you should get the bigger piece.” His words send memories of the past couple of hours flashing through your brain as you taste the rich and creamy treat. The light hints of chamomile soothes your taste buds as the chocolate melts in your mouth. 

“Mmm, this is good,” he hums. “Thank you so much for giving them to me; you must have put a lot of thought into this.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” you say, cheeks heating up at the praise, “I just saw them when I was out shopping, and I thought you would enjoy them. If you ever want more, I can bring you some.”

Why is Belphie acting so normal? He hasn’t seemed irritated or paranoid at all? If something was up with him, wouldn’t you have realized it by now?

“Come on, Mc.” he beckons, opening his arms, “Come and take a nap with me. We both need it.”

You give him a look of soft affection that you seem to only have for him. “Well, how can I refuse when you ask so nicely?”

“What’s with the easels?” you ask, snuggling deeper into his arms and feeling the soft material of his lavender-scented cardigan. 

“Oh, never mind that,” he yawns, wrapping his arms and legs around you like a koala bear. “We can do that later; for now, I don’t think opening any of the windows is a good idea. We might let something in.”

“The windows?” you murmur, looking up at the sealed glass ceiling of the observatory, “What would come in?

“Just that stupid Cupid thing,” his voice barely escapes his mouth, and his eyelids are so heavy it’s a miracle he hasn’t fallen completely asleep yet. Just before he dozes off leaving you with more questions than answers, he speaks again, “Mn’ don’t wanna lose you…”

[9w1ft]

I always interpreted evermore as a song about depression, I never linked it to Kaylor, can you tell me your view on this song?

dang i had a conversation about this with someone several months ago but i can’t find it. ill give you the abridged version. firstly, i think it can be about both! because the situation got depressing there for a hot minute!!

taylor said in an interview with zane lowe for apple music that she had written the song when the election was upon us and she didn't know what was going to happen. evermore the album was released in december 2020, which suggests that she wrote it pretty close to the release date, but also had time to reflect on what she knew to be true before releasing it— that trump wouldn’t win reelection. there’s a billboard article where she talks about the moment she learned biden won and i think it meshes really well with how evermore concludes thematically and emotionally.

when we think about the impact that trump being elected had on kaylor back in 2016–throwing a birthday party for lorde only days before the 2016 general election and wearing the vsfs angel wing ring in public for the first time, and that picture of them both kissing lorde on the cheek, going from that to at once enacting a love blackout and never being seen regularly in public again (the next time being rep tour 2018)— and on top of that, them going out of their way to separate themselves in the media via the creation of a “feud” during 2017 (swish swish, sushigate, etcetera) which pitted karlie with katy perry and kanye and cast her as someone for swifties to hate, guilty by association, we can imagine the weight and sadness of this chapter in their story. this is the start of the pain. this choice (i consider it a choice), to take the battle underground, sunk kaylor little by little into the world of the improbable for any casual observer. and it also put somewhat of a hex on karlie indefinitely, and for as brave of a soldier as she is, its an awful long while to be put in jail for something you didn’t do.

with these details as the background, i consider evermore to be a song chiefly about 2019 onward, though you might also position some of the date markers in the song within a sort of 2016/2017 focused timeframe. personally though i tend to think that 2019 events work just as well and operate under similar themes. for example, “hey november i’ve been down since july” could be in reference to the period of time where it became slowly more clear that the 2016 election results might not be a non-starter. or, it could reference the day after the masters sale (which was end of june 2019) and the theorized “failed coming out” that many expected her to do at the new york city pride parade that week. this followed by november, the conclusion of editing Miss Americana which would be released the following month (“motion capture put me in a bad light”) or alternatively november 2020, the point at which she is writing this song. there’s also an lsk theory that taylor and karlie were broken up from july to november 2019 but im not so versed in that so i’ll just keep it to a mention.

in any case, “hey december” can circle back to miss americana being released, not as a coming out documentary but as a “political coming out” documentary. hence the “can’t remember what i used to fight for.”

or it could be both, in a way. for example rewinding the tape but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost could be both the rewinding of the miss americana documentary released in 2019, and/or perhaps conceptually the idea of the 2016 election night footage being rewound by everyone in the disbelief that occured the night that “all was lost”

because all was lost that night, in a way, no?

i tend to see justin vernon’s part as being a depiction of karlie after kaylor was exiled to a new level post the masters sale. i don’t mean this to say they were broken up. it’s just that they had to do a factory reset on a lot of the progress that had been made up until that point, and they would not be seen together (in order to accomplish some vigilante shit, is what i think anyway). back to justin vernon’s lines. it just reminded me deeply of all the hate karlie got that summer. and indeed, all the hate she had accrued until then. whether summer or winter, this feuding arc had put karlie in a position that i would argue was growing unbearable and incessant. “out on waves im being tossed, is there a line that i could just go cross?” referring to the latest wave of said hate. in this scenario, “can’t not think of all the cost and the things that would be lost oh can’t we just get a pause to be certain we’ll be tall again?” seems like karlie calling out to taylor, amidst the haze and confusion of the masters sale, think about everything that we would be giving up if you don’t come out right now. (think of me.). and then upon that line leading nowhere saying hey let’s pause before we hurt each other, to be certain we will make it through. here “tall again” reminds me of paper rings “standing here so tall”

so what of the ending? well, as a time marker i would once again refer to when the song was released, post-2020 election, where taylor saw that trump had lost and they would have a path forward. …covid-19 was yet to happen of course, and with that i think there were life priority shifts, but i just see evermore as a song that covers taylor and karlie seeing a light at the end of the tunnel that had been their love lockdown to love blackout to exile story. its a song that encompasses so much hope and i just really really really love it as a kaylor song because of the specificity with which you can tie it to their story, specifically a more contemporary chapter, the likes of which we hadn’t had too many songs depicting up until that point (basically just peace/hoax/the lakes).

so yeah that’s why it’s a kaylor song to me 🫶

[sinnohanvulpix]

Sawyer is neurodivergent and you can't change my mind

Last year for Autism Acceptance Day, my good friend @pikatrainer99 and I did a collab post about Goh and our headcanon of being him autistic. Here's a link to that post if you'd like to check it out:

Today, we'd like to talk about Sawyer from Pokemon XY, another character who we both headcanon as autistic, and who means the world to me.

Let's start with his special interest, Pokemon battles. In all of Sawyer's appearances, we can clearly see his desire to learn as much as he can about battling and to grow stronger. He greatly admires strong trainers like Steven Stone and Ash. I mean, just look at how excited he gets when he hears that Ash had won five badges!

And that's exactly what he does for the rest of the series. He spends so much time studying and training that he manages to catch up to Ash within a just season's worth of episodes! But we'll get to that later.

Before going into detail about his most obvious traits, let's go over some of the traits that we only see for brief moments, starting with his sensory sensitivities. In episode 73, we see him getting visibly overwhelmed when the crowd around him, Ash, and Clemont suddenly starts cheering. We also see him shielding his eyes from Spritzee's Dazzling Gleam attack during his battle with Valerie. Note that he's the only one to react this way to both situations. I don't know about you, but I have yet to meet a single autistic person without some kind of hypersensitivity to noise, bright light, smell, texture, etcetera.

We also see in the following episode that he sometimes unintentionally gets too close to people when he's excited, not noticing their discomfort. We see this after Ash wins his gym battle with Valerie, and Sawyer is so beyond amazed and eager to learn from him that he momentarily forgets how to act "socially appropriately". Ash and his friends are visibly uncomfortable, but of course, because they're all so kind and supportive, they don't judge him for this 🥺

We also see in the first episode of XYZ that he's an amazing artist. And I mean, AMAZING! He can literally draw Squishy the Zygarde Core exactly how it looks in its official artwork, despite only having seen it for the first time that day! While not every autistic person has to have a talent like this, it's definitely not uncommon. Growing up, Pika and I both used to draw a lot, and our drawing skills were one of the few things we took pride in because of how much praise we got for it.

Now let's talk about one of his most adorable traits, which is his habit of saying, "I've gained some EXP!" Clearly he's into video games and enjoys feeling like he's in one, because this is definitely not something you typically hear in real life. This kind of escapism is quite common in autistic people, Pika and I included. In a world that's not built for us, sometimes imagining ourselves in a fictional world that we love can be really comforting and even inspiring in some cases.

You've probably noticed that Sawyer is holding his notebook in all of the last three screenshots, which is also something I'd like to get into. Not only is his notebook a crucial part of his character, but it's also a security item. Pika and I both have security items of our own, namely our phones and our favourite Pokemon plushies, which helps bring us a lot of much-needed comfort. In episode 75, we see just how panicked Sawyer gets when he temporarily loses his notebook, which quickly leads to him becoming depressed.

We know that he values his notebook deeply because it contains all he's learned on his journey, as well as an autograph from Steven Stone. But if you look deeper, it becomes clear that it's even more to him than that. He holds his notebook close to his heart, both metaphorically and literally. He hugs it after receiving approval from Ash (which I'll also get to later) Heck, he even attached his Key Stone to it! He cherishes this notebook like it's his baby, and we find that so adorable and relatable!

Okay, now it's time to get into what's arguably the saddest part of his character: his constant need of approval from others. Pika and I, as well as countless other autistic people, are no strangers to self-doubt, especially in a world where we can't meet a lot of people's expectations. Sawyer likely grew up feeling this way too, which would explain why he's always seeking Ash's approval, since Ash is the one he looks up to the most. Throughout the series, Sawyer's constantly trying desperately to catch up to him. What's even more heartbreaking is that even after he beats Ash, he still needs reassurance from him that he's become strong 🥺

And to make matters worse, he's constantly masking his frustration whenever he fails to beat Ash. The autistic community is definitely no stranger to masking either.

It's not until the episode after his Kalos League battle with Ash when we finally see Sawyer breaking down. All those hours of training to catch up to Ash only led to him losing again in their most important battle yet. He was devastated, but he couldn't show that in front of Ash out of fear of being judged. Once he and Sceptile were alone, however, Sawyer was finally able to let out all the built-up frustration. And oh boy, was it emotional to watch...

But being the resilient trainer he is, Sawyer quickly dried off his tears and reaffirmed his desire to become stronger.

It takes a lot of strength to bounce back from something like this. I also went through a lot of inner turmoil around the time XYZ was airing. But seeing Sawyer bounce back like this inspired me to keep going, and make it through the rest of that year with Sawyer as my main source of comfort.

Needless to say, I see a lot of myself in Sawyer, and so does Pika. Not only is he relatable, but his story is also a great reminder that no matter how bad things feel in the moment, we can always make it out the other side. This is an important message for a lot of people, especially within the autistic community.

Even after all these years, I still find lots of comfort in Sawyer, and I know that'll last for many more years to come 💚

[lippiethehoe]

Well hi tumblr queers again :D.

Okay so for starters CONTENT WARNING I'll be talking about sexuality sex and overall sexual stuff so if that's not something you wanna look at then don't read thanks :).

I kinda feel like starting a little conversation and also hopefully getting some answers from lgbts from tumblr which hmmm... idk if this is the best place for this, especially since I don't particularly have a big following, nor do I think I have the means to make this be more visible to randos on tumblr so hmm, if this amounts to nothing know I'll be embarassed about it but that's okay, but also I fucking hate reddit and all my google research efforts have resulted in either basically nothing or people asking similar questions to mine but having very deeply different prespectives of both gender in general and sexuality in general than me so google research didn't slay at all, and so I'll lend my trust to the tumblers ig.

Ok so hello, I'm lilly I'm a demiromantic trans woman and I've struggled for kind of a while with my sexuality, not because I don't know what it is, but because I'm actually a huge labels person. Having a word to describe the way i feel about things has always helped me feel as though I know myself better and can make others know me better aswell. Even if putting labels on complex human feelings and emotions is essentialy pointless, it's still something that means alot to me, and I hate that for the longest time I have been perfectly capable of knowing what my sexuality is, but can't simple it down to one word and use it on my day to day life and that makes me sad. It also makes me feel kinda alone in my feelings? cause I'm basically the only person i know with this prespective on my sexuality at least for now so I'm a bit confused, obviously I don't think I'm the only person like this cause that's basically impossible but it still feels that way ig?

Also I remembered this recently only because it's pride month, happy pride month btw :3, and I was doing a thing on discord where everyday I'd add a flag that I indetify with on my profile picture, problem is I've ran out of flags, because no sexual orientation feels right and from my knowledge of it there isn't a sexuality nor a flag for what I feel, and now not only does my discord pfp not look full of colors and pretty it also re-awakened a little identity crisis I've had for a while.

This is definetly gonna be a very long post but I won't feel like I explained myself correctly if it isn't a big post so bear with me, but let's start.

So I'm gonna start explaining how I personally view sexuality and gender so you, reader, can have all the means available to understand my prespective on this. Sexuality to me is kinda simple, simply means whatever a person is attracted to, what makes them sexually interested in someone, whatever other way you wanna put it, and gender is simply the way a person identifies themselves with, the eyes they navigate the world through, the way they percieve themselves and the way they want to be percieved as by others etcetera, I won't explain my prespective on romanticism cause that's essentially useless to my question, but yeah simple stuff right?

So here's where I don't believe I fit in with most sexualities, here's the question I've had for quite a while but never thought to express it in a place where more than just a few friends could hear, I am not sexuality attracted to genders, ok now is when someone screams at me and says pansexual, I don't agree, but moving on, I'm not sexually attracted to people much, I am sexually attracted to penis tho, and here's where someone screams heterosexual at me AND IF YOU DID I FUCKING HATE YOU FYI NOT CAUSE I HATE HETEROS BUT BECAUSE THAT AS AN ANSWER TO WHAT I SAID IS FUCKING TRANSPHOBIC, YEAH I SAID IT, BITCH!!!

But here's the thing, what is a gender, ok I wrote alot after i said that but deleted it all cause this could fall into a very long rabbit hole, but gender's a construct blah blah, can you tell I probably have some neurodivergencies going on in the head anyways continuing. Genuinely, I don't know what it feels like to be a sexuality that includes gender in it, not because I don't think it to be true obviously i know people are heterosexual bisexual homosexual lesbians any other sexual orientation that implies gender being a part of the equation. But to me I can't be sexually attracted to men because a man can be anything to me, I can't be sexually attracted to women because a woman can be anything to me, i can't be sexually attracted to enbys cause being non-binary can be anything to me and the list goes on. Nothing is set in gender because to me gender can look like, feel like, and be like anything, if I labeled myself heterosexual, sexually attracted to people of the opposite gender of me, what would I mean by it? cause think about it, there're big men small men skinny fat muscular men hairy shaved brown eyed dark skinned pussy having dick having blah blah blah and the list goes on again, and even in there I'm not specifically attracted to any of the traits on that list anyways, none of those traits sexually arouse me, men don't sexually arouse me, women don't sexually arouse me, but you know what does? penis. So therein lies the issue, cause surprise, there's a bunch of dicks in the world, what? that's crazy? Yeah penis is everywhere, there're men with penises women with penises nonbinaries with penises intersex people with penises dildos people with strap-ons and the list goes on and in that entire list, the only thing that sexualy arouses me personally, is penis, not who has it, not wether or not it was there from birth, not wether or not it's made of plastic or human skin, not wether or not I'm specifically sexually attracted to any other aspect of said person, but simply the thing that sexually arrouses me and makes me feel pleasure is the thing that sexually attracts me, which in my head is so fucking obvious? Like it's a conclusion so natural to me, but it seems I'm the only person in a 50 km radius that feels this way? It's also possible that I'm actually wrong and view the current existing sexualities in the wrong way and if that's what's up please tell me.

Also i feel the rising tension of someone saying stuff like "people can sexually stimulate others with fingers are u FiNgErSeXuAl?" and the truth is not really but I still find it sexually arousing when it happens, but the last thing I'm gonna do is look at fingers and blush I think. WOAH THAT JUST OPENED A NEW DOOR FUCKK OH NO THIS IS GONNA BE TOO LONG MAYBE I SHOULDN'T POST THIS IDK. I am also sexually attracted to certain actions, but at this point I feel I'm leaving sexuality and going into kink territory and that isn't really where I wanted to go. EITHER WAY my overall conclusion is I don't understand most sexualities and feel as though my view of my sexuality should have a label so I feel more comfortable, maybe I should be the catalyst who knows maybe someone's already been the catalyst and I'm simply unaware of that, either way I'd like a sexuality flag to add to my discord pfp so maybe I'll just make a flag up, who fucking knows, that's it tho. So yeah if anyone who sees this post experiences anything similar to this and wants to share about it please do I'd be really thankful.

Thank you so much if you sticked with me all the way to the end, and if you feel like you might have some insight on what I'm saying or simply wanna say something relevant to this topic please do, it's pride month and I'm incredibly proud of all queers and gender fuckers :3 happy pride month!

Ps: I just wanna say something, this isn't an invitation to flirt with me send me unsolicited dick pics or respond to things I clearly showed not to be questions, I want this topic to be taken in more of a discussion way than a sexual one, if that could be possible I'd be thankful, ok that's it bie bie.

[maoisarap]

How my S/I is with Mao's dorm mates —

I've talked stuco. I've talked Trickstar. Now it's the dorm mates turn for a talk~

With Shu: Shu actually has a little soft spot for Rumi. He just mostly denies it due to his reputation of how he's made himself known to be like. But Rumi and Shu are closer as friends than most would expect or even know. Every time Shu is creating something and Rumi sees, they like to come by and sit with Shu and watch him. His works fascinate them, and Shu definitely takes that thought with pride. (Sometimes, Shu will even teach them how to use tools for sewing and etcetera if he's feeling extra calm and happy that day.)

With Izumi: The saying of "expect the unexpected" is too literal between the bond of Izumi and Rumi. One minute they act like friends, then the next you can find them arguing about the smallest of things together. It's always best to hold your breath when these two are near each other due to the fact that nobody knows how they're going to act with one another.

With Kuro: Kuro absolutely adores Rumi. In fact, he seems them as his younger sibling and spoils them like they actually are, and secretly, Rumi likes it, they don't know what it's like to have a sibling due to being an only child in the Shio family and they feel loved in a way they have never felt - different to Mao's love and Tori's love - like a proper familial love. Kuro also loves to tease Mao about his relationship with Rumi a lot, too. There's never a day that goes by where Mao's face isn't beet red because of Kuro's teasing in the dormitory!

(What group should I talk about next? Basketball club... Manga Club... Band "BB"? If anyone cares idk anymore.)

[hydropyro]

“Team Building Exercise”

Excerpt and sketch

Cw: Strangulation

(Trying to build out the parts of Webs of Fate that aren’t smut 🙈😬)

“What we need,” Gale suggested, “Is a team-building exercise.”

“The trials in this place are supposed to be completed alone,” Shadowheart interjected. As Alakvyr was not a ‘true’ cleric, and not well practiced, Abdirak knelt beside her and worked on mending the wounds she’d sustained during the ‘Soft Step Trial’ earlier.

No one responded immediately. Shadowheart was not capable of completing the trial on her own and had needed Astarion to sneak through it for her in the end. Of course, it had gravely wounded her pride — but Abdirak did not think her ready to become an elite soldier of any god just yet. He understood where her feelings were coming from, though. It was coincidence that they had come across the Sharran temple hidden beneath Reithwyn — the region decimated by Shar a century past — but she would see it as destiny.

He also — quietly — questioned her loyalty to her god. She did not seem to enjoy what Shar had done to the land and the creatures in it. Of course, a great deal of the destruction they had witnessed on their way to Moonrise Towers, posing as True Souls — and servants in his case, to his amusement — had been done during the battle that waged before the shadow fell.

As they explored the land, and fought the monsters born of it, she had asked him many questions in regard to his faith; how he knew it was his purpose, what he would do in all manner of situations, etcetera. He was happy to speak about it, but his loyalty — zealotry — came from decades of service that he recalled fondly.

“I don’t mean for the trials,” Gale assured her. “I just mean — in general. Once you’re a —”

“Dark Justicier,” Shadowheart said bitterly.

“Yes, that — it will be a real help in the coming battle against the immortal Thorm — but working as a team will help us even — as well.”

Abdirak smirked at the wizard and was given a helpless shrug in response.

“In my experience, team-building is often acquired through the communal offering of our pain by the the scourge at the hand of higher clergy,” Abdirak began.

He started to explain further when Wyll said, “We will not be doing that.”

The Pain only smiled at the warlock. He had not anticipated that anyone would be eager to join.

“When githyanki form partnerships they complete a ritual wherein they battle one another,” Lae’zel said.

“Battle how?” Alakvyr asked, seeming interested.

“How else does one battle?” Lae’zel scoffed. “You choose a weapon and you fight. It shows your partner’s strengths and weaknesses, and drawing blood from one another builds an unbreakable bond.”

Abdirak smiled. It could be a scourge, with the right person. He stood. “Are there rules? Do we wear armor?”

She frowned and shook her head. “The exercise is not one in cowardice. Choose your opponent, priest, and fight. It is not a difficult concept.”

Abdirak pointed to Alakvyr, who climbed eagerly to his feet. The Pain collected his scourge from the stone he had rested it on. In his sleep clothes he had no way to wear it. A feature that probably slipped the mind of the maker. He watched as Alakvyr took up two short swords. He used his bow more often in battle, but the goal was presumably not injury.

“Is magic — allowed?” Alakvyr asked when they moved a few strides away so their tussling would not fall atop the rest of the group. He gave Abdirak a slightly nervous glance — the Loviatan’s magic was much stronger than his.

“I would say no,” Lae’zel said, and Gale scoffed.

Before an argument could break out, Abdirak offered, “I am amenable to a melee-only skirmish, Dear One.” He smirked at the drow, who looked much more confident now. That would not last.

“Do we just start?” Alakvyr asked, his eyes trained on Abdirak, his feet planted, rocked up on his toes and ready to spring forward.

“You just fight, tas’ki!” The gith exclaimed. She had set her plate of food down violently, as if readying to stand and fight the men herself.

Alakvyr leapt forward. Abdirak knew he had been well-trained in Menzoberranzan and he had seen him fight. Alakvyr was particularly fond of feigned attacks, knocking his opponent off balance and opening their side to his strong hand.

“When — uh — do they stop?” Gale asked nervously.

He held his scourge over his shoulder, ready to strike, and shifted just a bit onto his left leg. Alakvyr feigned with his left arm, his red eyes focused intensely on the Loviatan’s scourge hand. Abdirak swung his right leg out of the way while shoving the featherlight drow to the side, onto the ground.

Alakvyr caught himself on his knees and raised a blade to guard his back, anticipating that the strike would come. Though the blade caught a couple of falls, the majority fell in a nice, wide pattern across his bare back.

“When one concedes or is incapacitated,” Lae’zel said, as if it were obvious.

The drow began to stand. He could handle a few lashings — Abdirak knew — and he likely intended on gritting his teeth through. So, the Loviatan did not strike him again.

Instead, Abdirak moved his scourge to the other hand as he stepped up behind the drow and caught his wrist, wrenching his sword to the side, and twisted it. Not hard enough to break or sprain — but to cause a shooting pain to run up the elf’s hand — and, as desired, Alakvyr dropped the blade with a cry.

Abdirak ran the scourge over the drow’s beautifully freckled shoulder and caught the falls in his main hand, pulling Alakvyr back against himself. Pale eyebrows furrowed up above sanguinous, baffled eyes.

The barbs along the scourge bit sweetly into the soft flesh of the younger man’s throat — not long enough to harm him, but enough to draw small beads of blood as Abdirak wrenched the falls tight.

Alakvyr tried to stand, but Abdirak just straighted with him, resting his head against the back of Alakvyr’s as he so gently strangled the man. That is not what a whip is for, he could imagine Alakvyr was thinking. He had been anticipating a flurry of blows, dodging the many, barbed flails with his quick footwork.

Alakvyr still held a blade, but did not use it. He struggled against the Loviatan bodily, his breaths becoming ragged and his grunts of effort suppressed by the leather squeezing his throat.

Abdirak was careful not to put pressure directly onto the trachea, instead focusing the knuckles of his hand and handle of the scourge, and the falls in the other hand onto pressing the carotid arteries on either side.

“Do not worry, Dear One,” he murmured in Alakvyr’s delightfully pointed ear, chuckling quietly to himself. “I will tuck you in once you are asleep.”

The flat side sword came up suddenly and caught the Loviatan on the side of his head. As it glanced off he felt it just cut, and as Alakvyr squirmed away the blade caught Abdirak’s ear, delivering a delicious sting. He laughed, pleased that Alakvyr was willing to strike at him.

The drow had a wicked smirk on his face — his escape had been successful.

[wishfuldivine]

Alright. This is for you @gaystappen!

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a character from the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare franchise.

He's a Sergeant and part of the Task Force 141 along with Captain Price, Ghost, and Soap. He's either the youngest or nearly same age as Soap, who happens to be another Sergeant. Quite frankly, it hasn't been established with accuracy.

Kyle Garrick enlisted in the British Army in 2008,  serving in the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, spending four years participating in test flights, jump competition and marksmanship before passing selection for Her Majesty's elite Special Air Service (SAS), where he is currently serving as a Sergeant for his sixth year. Tasked to Northern Ireland, Bosnia, Turkey, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. Garrick has spent the better part of his career hunting terrorist fighters. Kyle earned the U.S. Marine Corps Gold Parachute Wings at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina whilst on an exchange attachment and routinely cross-loads on operations with the SAS' American counterparts, the Navy SEALs. Required to undergo resistance to interrogation (RTI) testing, Kyle was the only candidate in his class to escape the facility and evade capture. Routinely subjected to physically and mentally uncomfortable scenarios, Kyle prides himself on high tolerance and tactical awareness. "Everyone talks about the physical aspect of being in the SAS but my job is mostly mental. Give me a guy who's got his mindset right over a guy who's twice as fit any day of the week."

Sergeant Garrick was awarded the Queen's Gallantry Medal and the General Service Medal for both covert and overt counter-terrorism operations in the Middle East, disrupting opium supply lines and poppy production, a major source of terrorist financing. Kyle's last Middle Eastern tour was cut short due to an ever-changing political climate and a growing intolerance for full-throated unconventional warfare. Fading support for western backed guerrilla movements as well as growing regional tension complicated matters in the field, as men like Kyle are asked to do an imperfect job, perfectly well, without exception, no matter the cost.

With expertise in prime target elimination, demolitions, weapons tactics, covert surveillance and VIP protection, Kyle currently serves on the SAS domestic counter-terror program, executing homefield missions with metropolitan police forces on European soil. Challenging duty, due to civilian and collateral damage issues, Kyle seeks the opportunity to serve abroad again, and make a real difference combating the threat of terror. (Had to copy and paste it for you to get a glance at his early days)

Therefore, he's a complete BADASS. The only problem when it comes to him is that, the majority of the COD fandom leave him out of stuff. It can go as far as fanart, fanfics, edits, and more. Basically, he's ridiculed for simply being POC. Even the official Call of Duty company by the name Activision often leave him out of things. Such as promos, skins on the game, etcetera.

His character development within the franchise is by far my favorite. He went from scared, insecure, doubtful, to determined, level-headed, and voice of reason.

Though, he can be such a damn brat. There's parts of the campaign in MW2 where he is a smartass and witty while speaking to Captain Price and Kate Laswell, the Station Chief and close friend of Price. Don't let his hard persona fool you. He'll be the first to join Soap in any mischief.

But overall, this is my baby. I can say so much more but that's what is on top of my head. He's my best boy. My baby girl. My precious pretty boy. My muse. He's so gorgeous. And beautiful. He belongs to the other 3, though. XD

Sorry if it's very long!

[jack-cass-and-co]

Let me explain myself. I never thought it would go this far. It was a fling, nothing else, if even that. I didn't set out to deceive anyone, Carl, Elliott, or otherwise. How could I?

I'll tell you how it happened.

It was the April that Carl left for his ordination. Lillian was born only two years ago, and I had to stay behind to take care of her. I had found a temporary job at the local gas station for the basics-- food, mortgage, etcetera. I couldn't take her with me, so I had to leave her behind with my sister Georgia while I worked and ran errands. It was difficult, but we worked around it, and Georgia was a well trained nanny and good friend.

He showed up around the ninth.

A sleek, black, expensive looking convertible (Carl could tell you what kind, I've no knack for that sort of thing,) rolled into the parking lot, not into a gas pump. I could hear his music, maybe Soundgarden, even through the glass doorway, half expecting the man I could just barely see to be hard of hearing by the time he entered.

The man, yes.

He walked with such smoothness. I'm not sure how else to describe it. Like every step, every wave of his hand, were choreographed, and he had been dancing all of his life. One foot in front of the other, hands tucked into the pockets of spotless white, perfectly ironed slacks. A brown leather jacket over a black, tight turtleneck that looked almost as sleek as his car. Golden hair, sides shaved, long enough such that you could tie into the world's smallest ponytail, but he didn't wear it that way. He didn't look like he hadn't shaved that day, but I wouldn't have called him rugged or anything of the sort. What struck me were his sunglasses. The springtime clouds were just starting to roll in, and it wasn't bright outside in any way, yet he strutted in as if it were the middle of July. Tall. Young. Squared, chiseled jaw. Fit. Permanent smile like he knew a secret you didn't. He was attractive. Scarily attractive. Of course, I did not notice any of this because I was reading Jane Austen. Carl did not care for Jane Austen, but Georgia said it was necessary for every woman of age, so I spent most of that winter hiding "Emma," "Pride and Prejudice," "Sense and Sensibility," and some other I can't recall for my life, from him while we lay in bed. Sense and Sensibility was the book I was reading this particular day, I believe.

"Pardon, darling." He knocked on the counter, shocking me up from my book. I may have yelped.

"Sorry. Excuse me. Hello," I answered, setting the book on my chair as I stood up. I've never been called darling before, which would have shocked me if I'd noticed. It didn't exactly sound unnatural-- his accent was not at all American-- so it felt more like one of those big-time European men from the movies that my friend Nancy likes. Like Tom Hiddleston. I couldn't really place where it was that the accent was from, not that I know much about Europe, but I know for sure he wasn't British. His smile grew gently when I met his sunglass-shadowed gaze, letting himself pause a little.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. I know all too well what it's like to get caught up in a good book."

I ignored the attempt at a conversation starter with a polite smile. "How can I help you today?"

"Oh, if you could perhaps show me to the wine. I'm afraid I'm rather new here," He answered without any hesitations, leaning forward with his hands behind his back like a scientist trying to be rebellious.

Asking a 7/11 for wine at four in the afternoon. I didn't have a bad feeling about him, exactly, though I recognized his oddity. "This is a gas.. station?"

"Gas station," The man whispered like it was the first time he's heard it. Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe he was from a very small European country, if he's never been to a gas station. "How wonderful. Gas station wine, then?"

"Not here, that I'm aware of," I said with a chuckle. The man let out a swear I didn't understand under his breath. "We have Coke, Pepsi, beer, sparkling water, Snapple.."

As I listed out the products, I watched his face for any reaction to any sort of thing. His eyebrows twitched with confusion at most, but on "Arizona Iced Tea," they raised.

"Tea?" I added.

"I do enjoy a good tea. I'd be rather grateful for something cold, especially on such a hot day, yes?"

The 56° wind shook the spring trees in my silence, warning of an oncoming storm. "..Sure."

[nsxreaders]

Char. N Harmonia

Syn. You, the adopted child of N, go to his office in the dead of night...

wordc. 3.9k

content. 18+, psuedo-incest, forced feminization, pet names, omegaverse, underage, grooming, manipulation, mind break, breeding/knotting, bond marking, dumbification, reader has a penis (otherwise gender neutral aside from the feminization kink), omega reader, puppy person reader, alpha N

There was a knock on his office door again tonight. He already knew who it was; nobody would call on him at such a late hour.

“Come in,” He hummed. He didn’t set aside the papers in his hand, organizational work for Plasma, government legislature, etcetera… He glanced up from them to see you.

You’re small for a thirteen-year-old, even for an Omega, and on the weaker side to boot. Malnutrition and abuse from your previous life outside had done a lifelong number on you. You’re a little slow, quiet and shy. The past years of rehabilitation and growth have done miracles for you, but your jitters gave away how much there was left to go.

On your path to health, like the abandoned baby Litten that never learned how to hunt, there was the milestone of gaining the strength and confidence to pursue what you want.

“U-um… Daddy?”

He smiled. You took to that name well. Anything but what he called his own father was perfect.

“Yes?”

You crossed the room slowly. At an unsteady pace, you walked around his desk, and stood next to him. He finally put down his work to turn his chair, and face you.

Did words strictly need to be exchanged? Not really, but voicing your desires was yet another battle to be won for you. N pushed his bangs back through his fingers, and smiled at you.

“Can I do something for you?”

Shakily, jerking your chin up and down, you nodded. You already knew what he would say next, so you cut ahead; “I w-want to h-have sex.”

“Well,” He spread his legs a little further. “Here it is. Let me know if you need help.”

It was all in your hands. To be frank, he wouldn’t exactly let you run away, but…he didn’t ask you to come here tonight. Every step forward was your own volition, your own conviction, your own need. He hadn’t forced you since you were far smaller, and in need of guidance. Now, you opened his fly and pulled out his flaccid cock with intimate, well-instructed experience. Thinly veiled desire drooled out of you with the heft and thickness in your fingers. The smell of your slick clung to you.

Admittedly, he was getting hard fast. Already half mast, and you’d just begun to grasp him. It was just so cute to see you struggle with his size, every time. A bit of an ego boost.

“You don’t have to deepthroat it,” He soothed you. “Just do your best.”

“I wanna,” You mumbled, wetting your lips. It was a good thing, then, that he trained your gag reflex out of you. You must be grateful.

To start, you kissed his tip. Your small mouth couldn’t fit his whole length, but slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks and jaw flexed with as much as you could take. Your tongue played with his flushing head while your fingers fluttered around the base. It wasn’t long before he was fully hard and forcing you to sit up on your haunches properly to reach, teasing the beginnings of his knot with your fingers.

“Mmmh,” He hummed his approval. His long fingers settled on your head, snaking into your hair. “Your roots are showing,” He commented on the fuzz of your natural color at your scalp, inching into the permanently died curls of green that you were so proud of, thumbing at your puppy ears. You did it on your own; he wasn’t expressing an expectation, he was helping you maintain your own wish.

His swell of pride in you choosing to look like him was purely of support, not of ownership.

You hummed around his cock, bobbing deeply on it. Blatantly, you were only prepping him for something. Before long, you pulled off and started wiggling out of your pants and underwear, curled tail wagging. So eager.

He chuckled under his breath at the amount of slick all over your lower half, making even your shaved mound and limp cocklet shine. You definitely tried playing with yourself, only to end up unsatisfied. Defeated by your own lust, you came to him.

“Come here, sweetie,” He patted his knee. You hopped up right away - your chin only reaching up to his shoulder. Settling happily, you clung to him with open excitement, shivering.

Your scent gland, still so pure, unmarked, hidden away by the collar he bought you. Idly, he stroked his thumb over it. Just that was enough to draw a pleased sound from you, though whether you knew what it really meant or not was unclear.

He tilted your chin up, and kissed you. Slowly, deeply, he ravaged your mouth as you opened yourself to him. His hand slid down your back. You jumped deliciously when his fingers scratched your tail, but he wasn’t aiming for that.

Your entrance, gushing slick on his pants and twitching with need, gave easily to his fingers. With so much time devoted to molding you to him, it was only natural that there was little tension against only two fingers. He was only testing if you’d prepped yourself adequately.

And you had not. His third finger was an actual push that made you whine, and a fourth needed time.

“You’re not ready,” He mused idly. “I wonder, did you want my cock? Or did something else bring you here? You know to prepare yourself properly when you plan on seeing something through. I taught you that.”

“I-I…”

He gazed down at you deeply. “Do you want to tell me? Or do you need time?”

You shuddered, and the hint of fear tinged your scent. He was well used to it; so well used to it that it made his cock jump from associations. The thin, sharp notes of it were…an acquired taste.

“Well?” He prompted you, failing to keep the husk out of his voice. You were tempting him. But you had to speak, you had to grow, he was nurturing you.

“T-time,” You cried, arching your back from the way his fingers stretched you. “Time, mmmph - t-tiiiimmmeeee… N-need time…”

“Thank you for telling me.” He cheerfully twisted his fingers to hit your prostate just right, forcing a loud sob from your throat.

Soon, he could fit the fourth finger and begin stretching you in earnest. He hadn’t worried about you fitting him for a long time, given how much of a perfect match you were for him, but this was a necessary step to maintain your health. While you'd be happy with any treatment he gave you sooner or later, he couldn’t afford to give you anal tears. The first time was bad enough.

Diligently, he spread you, urging you to relax with gentle murmurings in your ear, his other hand petting you all over. Slick ran down to his wrist in rivulets. “Did you drink enough water?” He asked you.

You nodded. “Good,” He praised. “Remember to hydrate yourself later, as well.”

It was important that you take care of yourself, that he taught you to. Very important to nurture you.

How to fuck you…? He hummed, considering his options, but decided to simply have you in his lap. He leaned back, lifting you easily, lining up his cock. The anticipation always made his heart thump and sing. You, dripping your hot juices into his member, gazing at him with all the love and desire in the world contained in your dazed, lidded eyes.

He loved you.

Slowly, your hips lowered. His member met the ring of muscle; easily, you relaxed with a sigh, and sank inch by delicious inch into him, accepting his knot with only a brief squeak of discomfort. Fully settled, your feet dangled as you sighed. He was sad that you were growing too big for the bulge of his cock to show through your tummy as obviously as before, but he was comforted by the knowledge that you wouldn’t grow much bigger.

As he mused, basking in the pleasure your clinging, sloppy, warm hole gave him, he almost missed the way your face fell. How you hiccupped, not of pleasure or pain, but of oncoming tears. But he caught it quickly.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” He asked. Wiping your tears, he gazed at you with open concern. “Does something hurt? Or are you sad about something?”

“...” You shook your head. “I-It's stupid,” You mumbled, with that same tinge of fear as before. “I'm o-okay…Please fuck me…”

He considered reprimanding you for your rude and self-defaming use of “stupid”, you knew better than that, but decided against it. There were better times for it. “Let me be the judge,” he said instead. “I'll see if it’s truly stupid.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head resolutely. “'M sorry,” You mumbled, “I d-don’t wanna talk about it…”

He couldn’t argue with that. It was important to respect boundaries, after all. If he just had to fuck you while you cried, then so be it.

He lifted you up and down, but your crying didn’t stop. Before he could build a proper pace, you started whining in clear discomfort and twisted this way and that to worm out of his grasp. You weren’t getting anywhere, but it was annoying enough to make him stop, which annoyed him even more.

“Y/N,” he said firmly. You froze up entirely, eyes wide with fear. “Do you want my cock, or not?”

“...” You sniffled. “... No,” You mumbled. You twisted your fists into his pants. “I d-dunno…I'm scared…”

You must lack the words to vocalize whatever was wrong. “Did something happen?” He asked.

“Are you gonna leave?” You asked.

N blinked at you.

He did, in fact, have plans to leave the castle. Business must be taken care of. After he beat the other hero and defeated his father, Plasma had successfully begun extricating Pokémon from people. He must see this process through, which required some travel.

… You will be alone. He hadn’t quite thought about that. You must see him amidst all this preparation, and feel very afraid. You'd never been away from him; you do everything together, morning to night.

How very cute. How adorable. A grin tugged at his cheeks.

When he was a child, he was devastated by his father's absence, though that was better for him in the long run. Putting you though that same devastation… he refused.

He and you would not be separated. But a curious side to him rose up; he wanted to know the depths of your desperation, how much it would devastate you. He wanted to hear you beg for him to stay.

“There are plans,” he said evenly.

You squirmed unhappily. “L-let me go,” You mumbled tearfully. “I don' wanna anymore - I wanna go-”

He held you fast. “Why run?” He asked.

“B-because,” You insisted. You were starting to grow afraid for a different reason; you knew, too, that he wouldn’t just let you go. “I - I-”

He lifted you up, and slammed you down. You screamed.

“Use your words,” he said, mildly pissed.

You babbled incoherently around hiccupping sobs for a minute, clenching wildly around him. With a bit-off groan, he rolled his hips into you. “C'mon, I made sure you became literate,” he said. “Try harder. Don’t disappoint me by babbling like you did when I first picked you up.”

You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. Eventually, you gathered yourself up enough to sob, “I'm s-scared!”

“Of what,” He pressed, impatient. He licked his lips. “I know that, it's in your scent.”

You try pulling off of him again. He growled.

All at once, he cleared off his desk with one sweep of his arm to press you down on it, watching your chest heave wildly, arms flailing for purchase. Legs dangling, ears pulled back and pressed down flat by a strong hand on your back, you were unable to escape now.

“Now, I know you’re a little dumb,” he said. He tried not to rock in and out of you too much despite how much your pussy was begging for him, because you wouldn’t hear a damn thing he was saying if he did. “so vocalizing your thoughts and feelings is difficult for you. But you have to try. You aren’t so incompetent that you can’t figure yourself out, surely?”

You panted, struggling for air. For a moment, the was only silence as you desperately tried to untangle yourself. But you gave up.

“I don’t know,” You sobbed. “I t-tried to - I tried to touch myself b-but I need you but you’re gonna leave and I need you and I'm scared…!! I-I never - I never n-needed anyone…!”

He didn’t bother to hide his grin. He had his final variable, and the full equation lay before his eyes.

You, abandoned and abused at so young, taken in and nursed to health by him, had never loved or needed anyone before. Now that you knew the taste of such bliss, the thought of losing him even for a little was so deeply terrifying - maybe how much you loved and needed him itself was so horrifying to you - that you'd try to push him away to protect your heart. But you still couldn’t get off by yourself, and your body wouldn’t stop clinging to his cock even as you tried to pull away.

He laughed. You sobbed fitfully, and he laughed.

“Okay,” He managed to calm himself enough to speak properly. “Okay, love.” Slowly, he pulled himself out inch by inch, until only his head remained inside. “Here. I'll teach you something.”

Your sobs quieted, and you listened.

“I'll count to ten.

“If you don’t run away, and instead use your big girl words and tell me how you really feel, intelligently, then we'll just have a calm, quiet night together, reading books, conversing, having fun together in a civilized way. We'll have tea and cookies and play chess. We could even talk together about what to do about my leaving, workshopping solutions we both like.” He smiled, caressing your back. “You'd like that, wouldn’t you?

“If you don’t use your words and instead just try to run again…” He bit his bottom lip. “Well, you won't be getting away from me again. You won't be walking.

“If you don’t make a choice, then…” He shrugged. “Maybe having choices is just too much for you. Maybe I should have you as a pet instead of a child from now on.” He chuckled darkly, full of thrill. “That way, you can have all the happiness of being loved and taken care of, without any of the hardship, struggle, or burden of humanity.”

He did not miss how your whole body shuddered. Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, he drew in a breath.

“Ready?”

You froze up again. He began, knowing exactly how it would end. You just had to learn.

“One…”

Your jaw was flexing with the attempt to say something, anything, but all that came out was incoherent noise - if anything at all.

“Two…”

Still, you tried to speak, but hiccupping from your sobs and your shot voice didn’t help you.

“Three…”

You wriggled away. You tried to, you did, but every time his flared head dragged on your hole you pushed back reflexively, collapsing on the hard wood of the desk and clenching strongly.

“Four…”

He bit his bottom lip, resisting the impulse to fuck you already. Quickly, you were ending up with more inside of you than you started with.

“Five…”

You still hadn’t succeeded, but you gave up on talking. Committing to escape, you at least chose to attempt agency.

“Six…”

He was a little disappointed. He wanted to rip this will from you so badly.

“Seven…”

Your knees made it into the desk, but you just couldn’t pull away without crying out. You tugged and tugged and tugged.

“Eight…”

He even gave you such a generous head start. If he left his knot inside of you, you'd have given up immediately. How well you were trained, to find even his tip irresistible, to be unable to pull away from that little? You were so beautiful in your greed, your helplessness.

“Nine…”

You almost had it. You did. Just barely, your hole strained, with your trembling knees and arms doing their best to commit to pulling away. Just when it looked like you would finally free yourself…

…N grabbed your hips and slammed them flush to his with a loud squelch and pop as his full size hit your deepest point, knot to tip. “Ten.”

You came. With a shriek, you quaked uncontrollably, legs falling off the table as you squirted around him, voice rising in delirium. His laugh at you was strained by his own pleasure, the feeling of your insides clenching down on him so strongly.

There was no reason to hold back anymore. You made your choice. You made your choice when you walked in, when you accepted his affections, when you agreed to stay with him all those years ago. He was only fulfilling your dreams. You wanted this. He was only nurturing you.

Wisely, he had the desk nailed down some months ago. Now he could fuck you with abandon and it wouldn’t be shoved away by the force. He knew he was hurting your thighs on the edge of it; you were not going to walk after this.

Your voice was punched out of you with every thrust. You'd collapsed to simply take what he gave you, moaning as his knot abused your hole.

He wasn’t going to last long, not after the past while of preparation and teasing. “Y/N,” He groaned, leaning down to teethe at your collar. The pressure in his cock was making his knot catch, and only a few thrusts later he couldn’t pull out again. You'd need morning after pills… but the thought of not giving them to you, of watching your little body change with pregnancy, holding his pups…

He dug his teeth into your shoulder. Groaning loudly, his knot burst. You were full right away and only overflowed from there, sick squelching sounds as he grinded his thick, creamy cum deeper into you. In the throes of pleasure, he wanted his seed to take more than anything.

Your voice was broken by your cries. He was still hard, only just started, and you were fucked out. With a sigh, he carefully turned you into your back, still knotted, and hunched over you. Your glassy eyes stared up into his.

With a little breathless Omegan coo, your legs wrapped locked at his hips. He smiled, and kissed you.

“You’re mine,” He mumbled on your lips. One of his hands played with your hair, as green as his. “Don’t think for a second that there’s any other path for you. That I'll leave you, that you’ll ever be alone again…” He smiled. “You’re not very smart.”

Your gaze went wide, helplessly locked on him. “I was thinking,” He mused. “Since I have to think for you anyway, what good is you making figure anything out? In attempting to raise your intelligence, in trying to make something of you that you clearly aren’t? It's not like we'll ever be intellectual equals.” He shrugged. “I believe we should switch tracks.”

He sat up, and smiled. “You’re right, Y/N. You are stupid.”

Your big doe eyes blinked up at him, scent bursting forth with fear and strong arousal. His nose flared, eyes bright.

“You're helpless,” He stated. “You’re traumatized. You’re slow. You’re an Omega, a puppy at that. And frankly, your dick is so useless it's hard to imagine that you qualify as a boy, let alone ever qualifying as a man. You love your pussy so much you can't even feel good with this thing.” He flicked it, limp as it was, swamped by just the bulge his cock made in you. It took a while, but this part of your training is what was most proud of. Because you never wanted to become a man, that was never for you…

N tilted his head at you. “No, I don’t think you ever becoming a real, independent, intelligent person was ever in the cards for you.”

Something like misery swirled in your eyes, turning them glassy with tears, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t be sad,” He cooed, using his Alpha voice for the extra mile of soothing. You all but melted immediately. “It's nothing to be sad about. It's the truth. The truth is that I can't leave you alone.”

He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you. He kissed the single tear that rolled down your cheek. “I love you, exactly as you are,” He murmured to you. Fully to you, only to you. “I love taking care of you, more than anything in the world. I love being with you, I love thinking for you, I love making you feel good, I love his good you make me feel…” He sighed against your lips.

“Your imperfect self is perfect for me.”

You squirmed, not to get away, but to get closer, impossibly closer. Arms locking behind his neck, you peered at him through your eyelashes. He saw right through you; you always liked talking more with your body than your mouth.

“You don’t have to say anything anymore,” He smiled, shifting his hands to your hips. “I won't be disappointed. We've discovered who you are now.”

His lips grazed your ear, and he purred, “My sweet little baby girl. Forever and ever.”

His knot had gone down just enough to pull out again. Just like that, he fucked into you with enough force to make you bounce. And you came again, blubbering mindlessly as your orgasm rocked through you.

He reached up, and pressed his thumb to your collar. A fingerprint lock; the only person who was ever going to unlock it was him.

Your scent was even sweeter freed. He moaned, lips attacking your gland as your head rolled on your neck. “F-fuck,” It was so good, he couldn’t help but curse. “Baby, you're mine. Mine, forever…”

N found you, N took you in, N bathed you, N fed you, N clothed you, N taught you to read, to write, to speak, to think… N taught you your body, his body, how to be, late nights spent teaching and teaching and teaching… He nurtured you. He did everything for you, he who was given nothing.

He made you. Wholly and completely, you are his.

N's teeth dug into your gland. You must be reassured beyond belief, the very image of peace. You will truly never, ever be separated from him now.

[true-blue-sonic]

There’s something my cat does all the time that makes me and my parents laugh a lot and it’s the way he almost never purrs at anyone petting him except me. My mom will sometimes be hugging him or scratching him or smoothing out his fur for a whole minute without him reacting at all, but then I put a single hand on him and he almost instantly starts purring. Heck, sometimes he DOES A DOUBLE CHECK before he starts purring, JUST TO MAKE SURE that it’s my hand and not someone else’s. He’s such a fluffy little hater bastard boy I love him

That is hilarious, haha. Especially him double-checking that it is you who is petting him before he can start purring! He's a very picky boi when it comes to his provided attention, it is obvious <3

Silver would absolutely be the same way: I think that there are only very few people where he will express happiness or contentment about getting physical attention from. He doesn't seem to be such a touchy-feely person? I don't recall a single instance from the games wherein he, like... initiates physical contact himself. In '06, Amy grabbed his hand first (and also came flying at him for a hug and smacks him, lol), Blaze puts hers on his shoulder, and Elise is handed to him by the Duke, and that is just kind of... it, if I am not missing anything. Though it doesn't help that Rivals 1 and 2 and TSR don't have actual cutscenes, just stills with texts. But even so, no mention of touch is ever made there. In fact, this is the only thing that comes to my mind right now, from Stress Test!

And that is not an affectionate cuddle or a hug, that is an emergency happening that very second. So overall, I figure Silver is not a particularly cuddle-bug person, or at least that is never shown in the games. It might be deliberate, because the games do show e.g. Amy being a hugger, fist bumps between Sonic and Tails, etcetera. But of course, when going the Espilver route, I like to think he'll be more touchy-feely with Espio (or at least that is how I like writing them; I love physical contact). Not so much in public and not extremely elaborately, but they'll hug and cuddle and kiss at times. So when someone else tries to ruffle his quills or give him a hug Silver will just let it happen, but for Espio he'll be making little chirping hedgehogs purrs <3 <3 Espio meanwhile takes pride in the fact he is the only one Silver will do that for, haha!

[leifkncries]

Mammon's plans never work out, do they? (2/2)

no next part, this is the last part i'll make for this

Slowly breathing in and out, Mammon's eyes opened slightly, waking up from his slumber. Pursing his lips, he sat up well, tried. The twins were hugging him tightly. Sighing, he shoved their arms off rather roughly and sat up.

Getting off the bed, he patted his jacket. There wasn't any dust. He just felt like he should do that. Looking back at the bed, he saw that they all squeezed into one bed and he was in the middle of it.

Sighing, he went to the other bed and took a pillow. Placing the pillow in the spot he was before, he could see Belphegor clutching onto the pillow as if he feared the loss of comfort.

He held a fond expression, looking at the sight. 'It feels weird doing this again..' He thought, feeling a bit nostalgic. If he remembered correctly, he would always do this whenever the twins would be too terrified to sleep alone.

'It.. feels good. As if 'm still an older brother to them again.' A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, before shaking his head. He needed to go. Well- wanted. He wasn't sure what to do.

How much time has even passed?

Should leaving be his top priority?

But.. What if they tampered with something?

He heard them before… speaking about using their magic to keep him here...

Surely it was just a joke.

But.. knowing how affected they were by a family member's death…

Gulping, he twisted the doorknob to reveal… well, the hallways of course. The light startled him, as the twins decided to close all the lamps and such. To be truthful, Mammon only really wanted to leave because he was a bit…. scared of the dark.

It was childish, so what?! Mammon didn't even get to have a proper childhood! Stupid acting all perfect or you're getting locked in the basement rule...

Adjusting his eyes to the light, he observed the dimly lit hallways. 'Is it late?' He asked himself, furrowing his brows as he didn't know what was going on. 'Oh yeah, I can just use my D.D.D.' He nearly face-palmed. Of course.

He reached into his pocket, feeling the smooth surface of the case of his D.D.D. Opening it, he was shocked to see a lot of calls and notifications. 'I'll read their messages.' Mammon told himself.

Fumbling around with his D.D.D, he clicked the notifications from Lucifer as it had the least.

-

Yesterday

Lucifer

Where are you?

Lucifer

I can't track you. Where are you?

You aren't reading the messages.

Mammon.

Lucifer

Are you out at a bar?

No, I would see your location.

Where are you, Mammon?

Lucifer

This isn't funny.

Getting a search party would be a complete waste of time.

Don't disappoint Lord Diavolo.

Today

Lucifer

I decided to send a search party yesterday and then slept.

Come back already, Mammon.

Lucifer

They searched everywhere.

They couldn't find you.

Where are you?

Lucifer

Come back.

I'll search for you later as well.

Perhaps I can find something that others could not.

I am an Avatar, after all.

-

'I went missing but he's still as prideful as ever, that damn Lucifer.' Mammon cursed in his head, sighing. He wasn't in the mood to look at the other messages because this immediately dampened his mood.

Clicking on the box where you put your message, he typed up a quick message to Lucifer. Clicking the reply button... Well, he couldn't. There wasn't a reply button.

He could receive messages, but he couldn't send them. What type of logic was that?

I mean sure, no one wants some demon lords to go to another universe to rescue their brother. But still, just blacklist him from saying the words 'universe', 'timeline', 'dimension', etcetera!

Shaking his head, he didn't even bother to try and call him back. 'Eh, probably won't work as well!' He scorned, lips curling into a frown.

"Whateva', It's 1 in the morning." Groaning, he put his phone back into his pocket and walked around. "I wonder what time it was when I arrived here?" He hummed.

Walking around for a bit, he stopped at a door.

'I'm bored..'

Okay, he didn't expect this place to be boring. It genuinely felt colorless! It made him want to watch the paint dry, it would be more entertaining than this. Whatever, it was probably because it was 1 AM.

Looking at the door he was next to, he recognized it as Lucifer's door. 'Wonder if he's awake right now? I swear if he's overworking himself again..' He scowled.

He was about to twist the doorknob to check before the door opened for him. He flinched, looking at the black-haired demon in front of him. The door creaked towards the side, nothing except themselves in front of them now.

"Mammon." The loud, booming voice made Mammon sweatdrop, though he did absolutely nothing wrong. Avoiding his eyes, the white-haired demon spoke.

"I just woke up, ya know? Didn't exactly plan to be awake at 1.." He grinned, resting his palm on the back of his head. 'Damnit, I feel my energy depleting already. But.. why? I just slept.' He could've groaned, but he was in front of Lucifer. Perhaps later.

Lucifer sighed, staring at the white-haired demon. 'He's avoiding my eyes..' He frowned. "Ma-" He began, before getting cut off. "Luci.. ya aren't overworking yourself again, right?" Mammon asked, looking at the demon in worry.

'E-Eh- Why did I say what was on my mind?! He's gonna yell at me, isn't he?!' Mammon cried to himself, mentally preparing to get shouted at.

A few moments passed, and Mammon opened his eyes and glanced at Lucifer, who held a fond expression. Question marks floating around Mammon, he popped them all.

"Eh... Luci?" He felt a little awkward, he stood there with his head down and his eyes closed for a few minutes. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Lucifer flinched and shook himself out of his trance. "Ah... Apologies, I'm not thinking straight at this hour." He coughed, looking away. 'That was embarrassing. I was reminiscing about the times he forced his way into my room to help me sleep and stop overworking.' His ears were tinted red, showing embarrassment.

"Eh? It's fine, I guess." He hummed, glancing again at the dim hallway and looking back at the Avatar of Pride. "Why are you awake?" Lucifer asked. "Just bored," Mammon spoke casually before his eyes widened.

'Speaking casually to Lucifer and him accepting it? Is this a lucid dream? I mean, this is an alternate universe or whatever so I guess I understand.' He thought to himself.

"Would you.." Lucifer began, before trailing off. Mammon raised an eyebrow, and Lucifer's ears got redder. (AGAIN, out of embarrassment. This book is purely platonic and everyone knows it, but I just wanna clarify in case you don't know.) "I need to rest. Goodbye." Lucifer said, closing the door.

Mammon stared at the door, disbelief written on his features. 'Damnit! I'm curious now. What in Celestia did he want to say?' He scoffed, looking at the wooden entrance and exit.

He sighed, walking off. Meanwhile, Lucifer was slapping himself mentally. Did he seriously stop himself from inviting Mammon to his room because of his pride?

Even for his dear younger brother, it seemed as if he couldn't do anything. 'Truthfully, it would be weird for me to ask him to come here. What can he do? Sleep? He just did.' He reasoned with himself.

'Yet..' He stared at the closed door. 'If our family was simply alone with nobody interrupting our precious time..' He pursed his lips.

'Perhaps I would prefer that.'

-

Walking down the hallway, the Avatar of Greed passed the other two doors. His room, (Which was strangely locked) and Leviathan's room. He then realized there was light coming from the cracks of the room. He walked back to Levi's room.

'Why am I still tired?' He asked himself, sighing. 'I'm not as tired as before, but still. Is this what Belphie feels every day?' He asked himself, before looking at the younger's door.

'Damnit, I never memorized the code.' He huffed. Well, might as well kick the door open. Using force, he kicked the door open. As he did that, he felt strangely a bit weaker. He didn't ponder on that.

"Wha- Who the hell- Mammon?!" Leviathan exclaimed in surprise, staring at the older. "Yo." Mammon waved. "Why do you look tired? Did you even sleep with Belphie and Beel or what?!" Leviathan asked, trying to mask his worry with annoyance.

"I did." Mammon nodded. "Must be a side effect of dimension traveling. If anime taught me anything, it's that everything has side effects." Leviathan hummed, before sighing. "Just get in, I knew that the second you showed up you would stir up trouble for me." He rolled his eyes.

'Ugh, I can't act all cringy and nice to him. Only normies do that! Even though I do miss him a lot... Whatever! He'd tease you anyway!' Leviathan huffed, scowling.

Mammon walked inside the room, looking at the system with the 'pause' screen. It seems like he was playing a game about an Italian plumber. What was it called again? It's pretty popular, and it was on the Deviltendo Switch, which Leviathan bought.

"I'm playing Super Plumbing Simulator. You can join, just don't mess my gameplay up with your trash gaming skills. You also have to play as Luigi cause I'm not letting you touch my account. I still have the account you made, use that one." Leviathan said.

Mammon nodded, sitting down next to the system. Leviathan took an extra controller and passed it to Mammon, who caught it.

Truthfully, Leviathan was excited. Finally, he can play with his older brother. Plus, they were alone! Nothing can disturb them. Sure, Mammon's skills suck ass, but Leviathan managed to save beforehand anyway. He can just replay that part again.

"In this game, you play as Mario, an Italian plumber who goes through wacky adventures while trying his best to keep his tough job," Leviathan explained, looking over at Mammon and explaining the controls as well.

"So this is how you do it.."

They laughed, cheered, and smiled while playing the game. Though Mammon did it rather weakly, he still felt warm and mushy inside.

"You have to press that button, and I'll pull this lever-" Leviathan began to say, before feeling a heavy weight on his shoulder. "Ow.." He winced and looked at Mammon.

His head was on his shoulder, his soft white hair poking Leviathan's ear. "So, his eyes finally gave up?" Leviathan shook his head, chuckling a bit.

He put Mammon's head on the floor and stood up. Taking two pillows and a blanket, he put one under Mammon's head and one beside Mammon's pillow. After all, he couldn't carry him.

Saving and closing his progress and the Deviltendo switch, he took the blanket and put it on Mammon. He also put the controllers in a safe spot. He didn't want them to get damaged.

He sure was lucky he put a carpet there. I mean, he slept there sometimes as well, so he didn't want his head slowly dropping to the cold hard floor and getting brain damage.

Finally, he laid his head down on the pillow he put. Taking the blanket and shuffling under it as well, he closed his eyes with a warm smile on his face.

He could get used to this.

-

Mammon woke up, but with his arms wrapped around a demon's neck and him being behind the demon instead of his head on Leviathan's shoulder. 'Deja vu?' Mammon questioned in his mind. "Beel?" Mammon looked at the orange hair and immediately knew who it was.

"Oh... Hi, Mammon." Beelzebub set Mammon down, against his better judgment. "Why were ya carrying me?" Mammon asked, now walking side by side with Beelzebub.

"Leviathan woke up and told me your energy strangely drains quickly as if you were using mana 24/7, so we needed to ask Satan about it," Beelzebub explained, looking at Mammon. "You were still asleep, so I carried you." He said.

"Eh?.." Mammon was surprised. "Well.. ya shouldn't question it. 'm sure it's just a side effect." He pursed his lips. "If it's something bad.. what if we lose you again?.." Beelzebub frowned.

Widening his eyes, Mammon stopped. He looked at Beelzebub and smiled a bit. 'Maybe they care about me..' He thought, the thought making his insides gooey.

"Mammon?" Beelzebub looked back and saw Mammon smiling. Mammon flinched and caught up with Beelzebub, who was smiling at him.

"I'm glad you're happy here.. You were smiling." Beelzebub grinned, happy at that revelation. "Maybe you can stay here forever. You'll be happy, I promise." He told the other.

'I- I shouldn't.. but why is it so tempting? Why can't I refuse it?' The white-haired demon thought, looking down. "Let's go to Satan first, aight?" He smiled at Beelzebub.

Beelzebub nodded. "Yes. We shouldn't let you get hurt." He said and picked up the pace. Of course, Mammon being the fastest could easily catch up with him.

Finally, they reached Satan's room. It seems like Beelzebub was running from the dining room to Satan's room. Understandable. To think of it, Mammon never really ate yet...

The orange-haired demon knocked on the door, and it was opened by Satan. "What happened?" The yellow-haired demon was holding a book about dimensions.

"I want to ask you a question," Beelzebub said. "Hm. It's about Mammon's situation, isn't it?" Satan hummed, glancing at the Avatar of Greed who was behind the Avatar of Gluttony, who nodded.

"Come in. You too, Mammon." He walked back into his room and invited the two in. Well, the two walked in. "So, what is it?" He took a bookmark and put it inside the book, closing it.

"Well.." Beelzebub looked at Mammon, before looking at Satan. "Do you know why Mammon's energy seems to drain?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"Hm.." Satan hummed. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Ah, I understand now." He sighed. "Eh?" Mammon asked. "Yes, I do." He said.

"It's nothing bad, don't worry. It's just that since you aren't from this dimension, your mana or energy has to keep you alive automatically. If you exert more force, more energy is used." Satan explained.

"Wha- How is that nothing bad? What if I randomly pass out at some moments?" Mammon panicked. "We can make you a part of this universe, or lend you some of our mana," Satan smirked.

Mammon flinched, staring at the demon with disbelief. 'Is that why my greed doesn't seem as strong as before?! It's because the thing that usually powers my greed is getting drained!' Mammon thought.

"But- I need to get back to my dimension!" Mammon exclaimed. The temperature in the room dropped. 'Thank Celestia I'm a demon heater.' He sighed.

"Why would you want to go back?" Beelzebub asked, staring at the demon. "Well.." He hesitated, but whatever. He can't be a failure again...

"What if I mess something up? What if I do something wrong again? I always mess things up and I'm always a disappointment." It was rare for him to vent out his feelings like this. Is he getting attached?

"Mammon.." Beelzebub sadly looked at him. "Mammon.. you aren't a disappointment." Satan reasoned. "We never appreciated you enough when you were alive." He frowned.

"When you died.. we finally realized that we were all assholes to you and that we needed you." Satan sighed. Mammon was silent, and...

drip, drip.

Tears were falling down his face.

That's all he wanted to hear.

That he was appreciated and needed...

That he was loved.

Mammon rubbed his eyes, a stupid grin on his face. "Heh.. ya mean it?" He asked because it felt like a dream. Satan smiled back.

"Yes. Yes, we do."

-

He sat in the dining room eating lunch. Beelzebub carried him to the dining room because he didn't eat yet. "Oh right, we have a new D.D.D for you." Beelzebub perked up.

"Eh? Why?" Mammon raised a brow. "Leviathan accidentally stepped on your D.D.D when you were sleeping. Here you go." Beelzebub stood up and gave Mammon the demonized phone.

"Oh, uh.. thanks." Mammon pursed his lips and had a ghost of a smile on his face.

It felt like the celestial realm.

Yet Mammon forgot one thing.

He wasn't in the celestial realm, but the devildom.

And in the devildom...

There's the Avatar of Pride that believes that you are his pride.

There's the Avatar of Envy that only wants you, him, and the rest of the brothers to be together. Nobody else.

There's the Avatar of Wrath that will destroy everyone and everything in his path if it's for you.

There's the Avatar of Lust that wants your attention on him and the rest of his brothers ONLY.

There's the Avatar of Gluttony that's especially hungry for your affection and love.

There's the Avatar of Sloth that will make your dreams about them and them only.

And finally...

There's you, the Avatar of Greed who's greedy for validation and appreciation.

[your-queer-dad]

Hi internet dad!(hopefully you don’t mind me calling you that)

A couple things(?): 1) Do you know of any online stores that sell pride pins/merch? I want to get something like a bracelet or pin or hair clip to wear during pride month and I don’t know where to find/buy them.

2) do you have any tips or something for coming out to family members and friends? I’m not sure how to/when to tell people that I’m genderfluid or how to get them to start using my preferred pronouns, etcetera. The only person I’m really worried about purposefully not using my preferred pronouns or name is my twin brother but I still don't know how to tell people or how to explain what it is if my parents don’t know.

signing off because idk, I might come back

-🐦‍⬛☀️(if not taken)

Also:::: you’re really awesome <3 If you like hugs, I’m sending you a virtual hug, if not then I’m sending you a virtual high-five or something

Hey kiddo!! Thank you so much for reaching out! I know Etsy has some really good pride merch, for not that cheap?

My best advice for coming out is to firstly do it when you're ready, and you're sure you want to. Be open and honest, and prepared to answer any questions they have. It's okay for them to ask questions or not know everything, it's just an opportunity for you to tell them about it. Tell them the best ways to use your pronouns and what you'd like to happen openly, and be open to listening to their side of things.

I'm so proud of you I hope everything goes okay!

- dad x

[effira]

i don't know how on earth this happened but i just. suddenly understood painting. idk

my sillies. they are okay (only one of them will stay alive no matter what happens)

i should've never gone "oh what if i made lamb characters for some of the different cotl saves at my disposal" because now i'm attached and i gotta deal with the fact that these three can only exist and be happy together far far far in the past.

bonus doodles and a bunch of infodumping under the cut.

right so here in this image theyre all happy and wholesome right (yay) but at some point one of them has to be the last lamb to be sacrificed, which splits their universe up into three timelines, one for each of them being the vessel for the red crown. war and hate on planet earth.

alright let's get to the infodumping

Capri, based on my first playthrough and main save, starts off with the intention of doing as little harm as possible, going with the "good" doctrine options, feeding their followers well, etcetera, but over the years, out of both curiosity and the steady erosion of their moral code that comes with slaughtering hundreds just to get resources, they sink down on the alignment chart, coming to the point where they kill followers to switch their necklaces and cook up minced follower meat just because it gives them some diseased hearts for their crusades. They take pride in feeding their followers well, they married all the bishops (some of them only so they'd give more health if sacrificed to revive, but they will Never tell you which ones) and spend most of their time doing follower quests and getting enough meat, fish and veg to make the best possible meals for their following. sometimes they fall face first into the tarot cards when running into Clauneck. They make all their followers' clothes themselves, and stitch little bells into them to remind them of their family. Their cult sounds like a windchime.

^ virgo doodles from before i actually sat down to give her a proper design

Virgo, based on my mom's playthrough, probably wouldn't have it in her to be any good of a vessel if she had anything at all to lose anymore. She's a bit clumsy and has died on the battlefield many a time, sometimes even forgetting she's capable of dodging. What she lacks in hand-eye coordination, she more than makes up for in the way she takes care of her following. She only refuses follower requests if it's for their own good, like sacrificing another follower or asking for a bowl of poop. She puts a lot of thought into which follower to sacrifice on a crusade, and will often resurrect them right after she gets back. She hates Narinder. Absolutely cannot stand him at all. If she wasn't forced to do his bidding she wouldn't want ANYTHING to do with him. On the other hand, she has a great deal of respect for Heket, on the grounds of her being a strong-willed, self assured woman. She loves placing camelias all over her cult grounds and enjoys fishing a normal amount. She's very attached to Ratau and will often spend the night playing Knucklebones with him. She's also very enthusiastic whenever she meets Chemach during a crusade -- She doesn't attack Chemach's "followers," either out of germaphobia or out of pity. She's haunted by the restless spirit of Alfie, her first sacrifice (that's me! she didn't revive me. I'm haunting her now and making the commentary i give while watching my mom play a part of Virgo's character). She is very unimpressed by most threats. She should probably be impressed by most threats

Taurus, based on the most bloodthirsty speedrun I have ever witnessed live on the family switch, does not care for his followers. He's out for revenge, and that's it. He doesn't care for anything other than giving the bishops a taste of their own medicine after they ruthlessly slaughtered his entire species. He holds the same level of contempt for Narinder, as evidenced by the fact that he put him in jail Forever, only allowing him out to eat once a day. He has a soft spot for rabbit followers (except alfie. because in-game sibling violence overrides all characterization), but will Never tell you this. He's friends with Helob, if only because he brings him cooked follower meat. Originally a gentle soul, this immense thirst for violence and revenge was formed the day he came back to his village after a day of fishing and found it halfway through burning to the ground, with the heads of everyone he knew and loved (among which are the other two mentioned above) stacked in the centre of town. He has never truly cared for anything since. His fleece was made by Capri way back in the day (haha it would be so funny if this was the main image of this post) and it only acquired this status as a certified Golden Fleece upon obtaining the red crown. Taurus loves hammers and axes. If it hits hard, he'll enjoy using it for its intended purpose. He nearly always wears the same slightly off-putting beady-eyed smile on his face. To calm down after his long crusades, he likes to sit down and sing some songs, accompanied by his not-great-but-absolutely-not-bad guitar skills. He often does this right in front of his temple, and it's one of the only nice things his followers ever get to have.

alternate color version as a treat. thanks for reading through my massive walls of text.

cya! <3

[quailxcrossing]

throughout your time developing these stories, what's your favorite piece of "no longer canon" art? do you mourn its state, or are you happy to have developed past it?

i'm happy to have moved past a lot of my "no longer canon" art, BUT i would be lying if i said i don't realllllly like having updated art....i honestly struggle sometimes with updating stories because i go "nooo but i've drawn so much art of XX....and everyone liked it...and everyone expects me to stay with XX...." even though thats literally so fucking counterintuitive to the writing process, AND NO ONE IS THINKING THAT!!! NO ONE!!!! i need to learn to pick up and move on! stories change- i change!

here's some ⚠️old art⚠️ i know is outdated but i can't say in which aspects! i liked all of these pieces a lot at the time...

umm also a pride picture i made like in 2021...its only really outdated because of the timeline?? i wasn't thinking about it when I drew it, I just didn't want to draw After! Etcetera but i wanted to draw everyone else! obviously Kennedy is like. uhhhh DEAD but its fine. also some of these bitches are gay in unique ways now....uhhh and its got old Fracture aughhhh i loved this IMAGEEEE

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

Also you seem to say that women are /more/ privileged that men (in westernized societies), not equally so, and the only way I can interpret it is through logic of 'Dangerous jobs are worked almost entirely by men AND in military conflicts it is men who are sent to fight so they have higher risk of death, also men are pressured to always be pragmatic and provide everything whereas the only real demand for women is to cook children and birth food and have sex'. Like, is this something along these lines? Because I often hear men say they'd much rather life a "comfy" less effort life like women and be forgiven for emotional weaknesses or lacking a good job - which confuses me a lot because it feels very depressing and insulting for me as a human being to be seen as 'you don't have to be smart or put effort, just look pretty and do bare minimum'... But I also often hear "you don't count because you are autistic and live in 2nd world country". But if majority of women are CONTENT and it is /minority/ who'd like to work traditionally male jobs or have 'pride' in regards of emotional maturity and intellect - what REALLY happened in western societies where women have ok amount of rights for the past few decades? Did feminists just sorta... spoke for majority and it snowballed? Because to think of it, it doesn't make logical sense for feminists to demand that women LOSE "comfort" and face HIGHER standards for accomplishments, maturity, physical proves, risks for life, etc. Maybe I'm misanthropic but typically humans don't abandon BENEFITS based on honour alone - only singular anomaly humans do. Or gamers, when they want to play harder mode for pride. Was it all REALLY just to, in fact, cover their comfort by claiming this comfort is oppression? (one more time, I speak about 1st world countries specifically (ironically where feminism is the strongest), my neighbour countries are special hell for women)

"you seem to say that women are more privileged that men (in westernized societies), not equally so"

Women in western democracies have every legal right that men in western democracies have and many additional allowances and special protections on top: for instance, women are exempt from military conscription, have far more funding devoted to their healthcare, are routinely given 60% less prison time for the same offences as men, etcetera etcetera. It's a long list. This is not something I'm angry about, or even seek to radically change: it's just a fact of reality that flies in the face of the fundamental premise of the feminist narrative but which needs to be openly acknowledged to understand the world in which we live and make any progress as a species.

“But if majority of women are CONTENT and it is /minority/ who'd like to work traditionally male jobs or have 'pride' in regards of emotional maturity and intellect - what REALLY happened in western societies where women have ok amount of rights for the past few decades? ”

A far larger number of women self-report being NOT content today than when asked 60, 70 - 100 years ago.

“Did feminists just sorta... spoke for majority and it snowballed? “

Feminism has never spoken for the majority of women. It has done a fantastic job of infiltrating and taking over education and media, where it gets to tell women they should be angry and unhappy all the time, but there’s still a great difference between feminists (adherents of a conspiracy theory-based political movement) and women (every second human being on planet earth), and if I remember rightly it’s only about 14% of women who identify as being feminist. The power they wield is far out of proportion to the number of people they actually represent.

"typically humans don't abandon BENEFITS based on honour alone"

There is no honour in feminist thought...

I think it might help you if I lay out how I see our recent history in this regard, as it may differ from the mainstream narrative you will have been indoctrinated with:

Feminism as an actual movement emerged out of the rapidly expanding caste of middle class women living unprecedentedly safe, comfortable and educated existences in the late 19th century, who had cooks to cook their food, nannies to look after their children, housemaids to clean up their houses, and well-to-do fathers or husbands to buy them everything they needed. Unlike the far larger mass of poor working class women, they no longer had work to occupy their time and so they, understandably, grew bored and began to want to have more influence in their community for themselves and other (middle class) women. They, somewhat peculiarly, started to see the burdens and responsibilities their brothers/husbands/fathers were expected to take on as a kind of treat - a privilege being kept from them - seeing jobs as a fun adventure of some kind, rather than the monotonous wage-slavery they have always been for the vast majority of the human race. The tasks these women selected to take on were not the back-breaking labor of coal mines, tree-felling, fishing vessels or construction sites, but light, comfortable and often part-time office duties, organising meetings to police and lecture others, all while demanding special treatment for being women. Which set up the blueprint for all feminist demands to come: all the rights, none of the responsibilities.

Things grumbled along in this way for decades, until the feminist movement (as well as the university system as a whole) was infiltrated and largely taken over by the Marxists in the late 1960s/early 1970s. The main goal of all Marxist-infiltrated movements in the west is to sow discord and create divisions in the populace. This led to the “intersectionalist” model of society, in which EVERYONE but straight white men are told from birth that they are an oppressed underclass who must march in the streets, scream abuse at strangers and feel glee at the suffering of all others outside of their in-group. And that largely explains the madness of today.

“it doesn't make logical sense for feminists to demand that women LOSE "comfort" and face HIGHER standards for accomplishments, maturity, physical proves, risks for life, etc”

For the reasons stated above, the modern (1970s-onwards) feminist movement itself doesn’t primarily care about “women”, only destroying whole families and healthy relationships between the sexes in the west - along with any woman who speaks out against whatever is its present agenda; There’s no sense in the way modern feminism eagerly championed allowing biological males into female spaces and sports and everything else, or how quickly it destroyed and silenced all the old school feminist women who spoke out against it.

I guess the fundamental point I’m making here is modern feminism is a political force entirely separate from women as a class, who, like all the other identity politics movements, it uses only as a human shield to deflect criticism of the agenda it is actually pursuing.

[goddevouringserpent]

2, 8, 20 for Irenni for the WOTR asks?

will be putting the answers under a cut because, as usual, my ass long-winded and prone to digression lol

2. How do they feel about Areelu Vorlesh?

OOF, that's... probably the toughest question to ask Irenni, honestly. Which makes it excellent for me. :3

By accident, Irenni ended up being a perfect foil for Areelu—both of them talented practitioners of arcane magic with a fathomless hunger for knowledge, both of them hunted and driven to despair because of who they are (Areelu, a witch in a country that despised arcane casters and sought to punish her for it; Irenni, a dhampir who has to resort to drastic measures to conceal and, shall we say, quiet down her vampiric nature), both of them willing to go to extreme lengths for the ones they love. As she learns more and more about Areelu and her past, Irenni grows to understand her better, to see herself reflected as though in a broken mirror, and she hates herself for it. The mere idea of feeling any sort of compassion or kinship towards the Architect of the Worldwound is anathema to everything she stands for, and yet... she can't help it.

Throughout the whole game, Irenni struggles heavily with her conflicted feelings towards Areelu, and it weighs on her mind & her conscience an awful lot. She is an Angel of Salvation, true, and so it wouldn't be out of character for her to want to redeem Areelu; however, it's not always mercy that drives her, not compassion or kindness, but hubris. The inflated ego of a mortal who had gotten much too used to being quiet and unassuming, and who suddenly has been granted power enough to match her intellect—of course she must use it to guide others towards the right path. Not to mention that she takes on every death, every failed redemption, as her own personal burden to carry.

So Irenni wants to think that, when the time comes for her to face Areelu one last time, she won't hesitate to deliver the killing blow... but doubt gnaws at her, leaves her unstable, askew. She's too deep inside Areelu's mind now, it has to account for something, and besides—after all the time she's spent researching Nahyndrian crystals and their possible uses in divine ascension, who would be of more help than Areelu Vorlesh herself? And so she reaches out to her. She speaks as her intellectual equal, as the one who carries the soul of her daughter, as the only mortal left on Golarion who could ever understand her. Irenni speaks, and Areelu listens. Her eyes are soft, thoughtful. There's something almost like pride in them. Irenni swallows bile.

(In the end, Irenni reaches divinity alongside her companions, and Areelu does not. But she seems satisfied by this outcome, regardless. The last thing Irenni sees as a mortal is the placid yet melancholy smile of Areelu Vorlesh, looking like a mother who is watching her child fly from the nest. Irenni's heart twists in her chest—disgust, regret; a strange warmth that makes her bones ache. Like it or not, she is forever bound to Areelu now.)

(Eternity weighs heavy. Her new eyes squeeze shut.)

8. What do they desire the most?

I think her biggest, deepest desire would ultimately be knowledge, because it's what she uses (or would use) to achieve all her goals—by learning what to do and how, she can protect people, keep her loved ones safe, make the world a better and more peaceful place, etcetera. Irenni is one prideful little thing, but her intentions are generally noble when it comes down to it.

20. Which event of the crusade traumatized them?

Mostly, feeling like she kept losing parts of her identity: there was no longer space for Irenni Korez in the world, because that place had been occupied by Knight-Commander Irenni, Herald of Iomedae, Angel of Drezen, and so on and so forth ad nauseam. It was exhilarating, but also a massive blow to her sense of self, to the point where she spent the vast majority of Act 3 dissociated. (And then she goes and ascends, detaching herself even further from her identity, because she's smart like that. 😌)

But since the question mentioned an event... the Battlebliss in Act 4 did a number on her, for sure. Being kidnapped was bad enough, but being kidnapped and forced to become a plaything for demons who use senseless violence as entertainment was the WORST. Probably the angriest she'd ever been, but also the most scared and helpless she'd felt in a long, long while. She had nightmares about it pretty much until she ascended, & I think even goddess Irenni would spiral if she dwelled on it too much.