#this face angle was actual hell to draw Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[candycatfalls]

"hey handsome~ 😘" "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF PRISON"

[wewerebornsextuplets]

idk how but you draw in the Oso-san style so good i need to know your secret please

HAHA thank you very much!! im glad you think so :D unfortunately im not very good at explaining how i work, but ill try my best to show what i mean!!

once again this is long as hell. you know the drill at this point

to be honest, half the battle i fight with drawing in the osmt style is just. Looking at it. the ososan art style actually fluctuates pretty wildly depending on what you're looking for, whether that be the mobile games (for instance, tabimatsu and hesowars look nothing alike in terms of style despite both being the same source material), official art and merch, or even the seasons of the show itself!

using ichi as my example here since i draw him the most, but its pretty easy to play spot the difference with the varying styles. even within a specific season you can do this across episodes, especially with season 1!

when i draw, i tend to be a bit sacrilege and use references across different media; usually ill use the show [especially season 2, if only because its a bit more "uniform"] as reference for the actual features and colors/poses/etc, but i like to use hesowars to reference proportions, since they seem to be most consistent there.

SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO NOTE: theres a WEALTH of fanartists that have styles that are INCREDIBLY similar to the show, so be careful to check your sources! these artists deserve credit for their hard work, which they often don't get since their work is reposted under the guise of being official art.

once you've pinned down the exact style you'd like to emulate, and the character you're looking to draw, its really just a matter of finding references, which is pretty easy! you can scrub through different episodes for good angles/shots, or if you're going for one of the game styles the AU wiki has most of the games catalogued to my knowledge. if you're looking to draw an oc, use characters you think they would look similar to in the show. if you really wanna waste your time, though, you can always scrub through crowd scenes in the show to see if any background characters might look like what you're going for; the season 3 episode Mt. Takao comes to mind, there were a lot of cute mob characters there.

using keiko as my example here, you can see that i pulled her features from multiple different characters to get her to look right in the style. with ocs, its important to reference a number of different characters, since the likelihood of a background character being a 1:1 for your little guy is unfortunately pretty low. there WILL, however, be a lot of characters that look KIND of like them. the key is to figure out what parts go where!

to this point, most prominent ososan women have very similar stock anime girl faces with very minor differences, so if youre looking to make a cute girl oc, most of the womens' faces can be used somewhat interchangeably. if you want your cute girl oc to have a more unique face, though, the movie gave us some women with more unique faces in the form of the NEETs' old classmates! theres also no harm in referencing male characters faces in this regard. #butchswag #kiruminikuya

BUT. going back to the assumption that you're drawing a canon character, today I'll be drawing oso for my example

when you're first getting a feel for the style, tracing some of your references can actually be a really great way to acclimate yourself to the characters proportions and features. think of like when you were a kid, and would trace over pictures of pokemon or cartoon characters so you could draw them better. its basically the same principle! this was especially helpful for me when it came to eyes; they vary the most wildly of any other trait that characters have in ososan, so going over the different shapes to get a feel for each of them was very important.

when you trace, though, I recommend doing so a bit more loosely, sort of like if you're doing a photo study for anatomy; block out the basic shapes and do small markers for different features (i.e small lines to denote where the eyes start and and, distance from nose to mouth, things like that), and from there draw the rest on your own.

after long enough you'll get a feel for the basic placement of where everything should go! the eyes and nose are undoubtedly the hardest when it comes to the sextuplets, since they shift around a LOT between games/seasons/etc. so don't feel bad if you have a hard time with that, since there isnt really a "right" answer with how frequently it changes. i still fuck it up all the time myself!

as for some basic tips, heres some stuff i try to keep in mind when drawing them that just helps the finished product look a bit nicer!

when drawing the hair + fringe line, its important to swoop it downwards a little bit; the flat across look Can work, but if you're not careful you risk showing the tops of their eyes, which is um. ew! ick! nast!

when a matsu is facing forward, their hair will usually tend towards one direction to keep the silhouette. in most screenshots i saw, the bowl cut points left! that said, dont be afraid to point rightwards if its better for your specific drawing!

and lastly: USE THE LIQUIFY TOOL. LIBERALLY. i am not joking when i say this has saved my ass so many times, its hard to get the placement right on the facial features and even harder to get everything to LOOK good, so if its available to you i HIGHLY suggest just squishing everything around with a liquify tool until it looks right. you can always go back and correct the blurry lines. its really a life saver

BUT YEAH! i dont know if this was very helpful but i hope you're at least able to gain something from it :-))

[iznsfw]

Chaewon anal pls :3

Fancam

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 6 - Kim Chaewon

LE SSERAFIM's Kim Chaewon x Male Reader Smut

3455 words

Categories: BUTT STUFF (anal + ass eating), brat!Chaewon, cunnilingus, rough sex, spanking, mirror sex, masturbation, doggy style, fingering, squirting, inspired from how a BFH happens + dirty thoughts

I couldn't complete the initial draft, so I just combined it all together but still made it fit the story like the clever little fucker I am. Enjoy.

For @kaedespicelatte ❤

Your cock goes through more bouts of stimulation in these minutes than your other body parts have ever felt in their lives. It suffers—or rather, enjoys, the feel of your fist bobbing up and down its girth as you imagine that your hand is not actually itself, but rather, your favorite idol's cunt.

"Oh, oh, fuck! Fuck, Kim Chaewon, you're so tight!" you yell out, speaking out loud to her in spite of knowing she won't hear you.

Yes, that is her name. You have never felt more of a degenerate and a blushing schoolgirl at the same time. This fourth generation idol does things to you. She's an adorable girl, but it's inevitable to see the hot side to her. As the concepts of her group, IZ*ONE, matures along with the members, she does, too. She becomes even more attractive.

You'd close your eyes to picture her bouncing on your cock better, but that would rob you of seeing the looped muted videos playing on your computer: Chaewon sensually gyrating her ass side to side, in accordance with the choreography of the most recent IZ*ONE comeback: Panorama.

Oh, she knows what she is doing. The smug look reflecting in her eyes, her smile... no one can tell you that Chaewon doesn't know the effect she has on her fans. What, with that tight little body and ass, she can send each and every one of the fans who adore her to heaven. Hell might be a better place for you since you love to lust over this girl so much, but you don't care one bit. You'd set yourself on fire if it meant a chance with her.

In short, and to keep all those pathetic statements, you are a big fan of Kim Chaewon. Too big of a fan, you know, but it is what it is. She's too attractive of a girl to not do... this.

As the videos transition to a new outfit and new angles, you close your eyes and let your mind run wild. What if....

±

"Oppa, are these shorts too tight on me?"

No. Well, actually, yes. You purposely styled her navy blue shorts that way so it accents her hips and butt, to appeal to the fans. It's your job as her stylist to design good outfits for her that fit the comeback concept and also pleasure the eyes and flesh, but now, it has backfired. The plan you have made is slowly starting to take you as its victim, too.

Chaewon raises the shorts higher, smoothing her fingers on the fabric as it wraps around her tiny body. Your mouth practically waters.

Chaewon, with her dark blue hair curled and cheeks blushed, snaps her fingers in front of your face. "Hello? Hellooo? Oppa, you good?"

"Y-yeah!" you say nervously. Laugh a little at yourself because of how weak you particularly are around Chaewon. You're a professional stylist—you are blunt, but charming enough for richer customers like those from Swing Entertainment, and most importantly: professional, but cool enough for the idols to pull jokes around you.

However, you are none of those things. At least, not in front of Chaewon whom you cannot seem to put your work personality on for. You get along with Eunbi and the other members professionally just fine. Yena has even become one of your best friends. So why can you never act right around her?

"Ohhh." Chaewon draws out the word with a sense of understanding. Afterwards, she sets her hands on her hips and smiles knowingly. "You're one of them now."

"Huh? One of who?"

"One of those fans. Those fans who never want to do anything but worship my body. That's who."

You feel a little guilty now. Have you overstepped on her boundaries? Yes, it is your job to cater to IZ*ONE's male-dominated fanbase, but that does not mean you have to become like them, too. No, you only admire Chaewon in a proper manner. You like her because she is pretty and has a sweet voice, not just because of her body!

Her body that is just so hot and tight...

Chaewon leaning over one of the dressing tables and wiggling her ass is no help at all. She giggles profoundly, as if her doing that was a completely innocent thing, and smiles again. "What if," she says, and pauses, letting the suspense take over, " I let you? "

Is she serious?

You have no time to think about it. As if you were controlled by a perverted puppetmaster, you walk over and smack Chaewon's ass. She gasps deliciously, biting her lower lip, whether for more seduction or simply her libido is unknown. But you set that thought aside to take it all in: how Chaewon's buttcheek feels so soft yet firm at the same time, completely spankable; the wet spot your fingers touch on as you slap her ass and part of her center. Chaewon is as needy as she is evil, so her eyes send you a request. Without words, you understand what she wants you to do.

But foreplay is essential. Taking this into consideration, you close the distance between you till it is almost nonexistent. Her thighs feel great in your palms. You've never noticed how pretty they are before. Pale and thick, they feel like pillows beneath your touch. They are sensitive as well; Chaewon whimpers softly while you take your sweet time with them.

"Yes, I've wanted to fuck you for so long, oppa~" she confesses out of the blue. The mirror reflects your actions performed onto Chaewon's beautiful figure. Most importantly, they show her face: the makeup for the comeback performance makes her siren eyes look even more seductive. Her lips are painted a perfect ruby red. "Everytime I saw you arrange the clothes for the girls, and how passionate you are about everything, I felt so... needy. I've wanted you since the day I met you."

"That makes two of us," you chuckle softly. Kiss her back as gently as you can, somehow assuring yourself through it that you can hold yourself back from ravaging her immediately.

The day you met Chaewon enters your mind. She still uses the same perfume from that day. She had worn an adorable blue and strawberry red sailor-themed dress. You loved its design, so you had reached her, complimented her performance and how she looks in it, and asked who made it for her. When she replied that she had designed and sewn it herself, you were surprised. You already knew that Kim Chaewon is talented, but you somehow forgot that her capabilities are also strong outside of vocals and dance.

She looked adorable. You were both the same age with big dreams that were just recently attained. And now... she looks beautiful. She has always been pretty, but there is a mature side to her now. If you were to be a little more explicit... hot?

"Did you know, Chaewon, that I put a very special feature in these shorts?" you ask, grinning. Feel around her crotch area to render her moaning needily.

"Mm, and what is it?" she asks. Her eyes are closed. They flutter wide open suddenly. "Oh!"

You've inserted a finger inside her. Her wet walls tense due to the unexpected intrusion. Smirk as you explain: "I added a secret zipper. Just so I can fuck you safely whenever I get the chance."

"Mmm, oh..." Chaewon rides your finger in dizzying circles, head thrown back. And it is so much hotter to watch her in motion in the mirror—it reflects the need in her eyes, the talented sway of her hips, and most importantly, her rounded mouth when she lets out her beautiful moans. "W-what's stopping you then, oppa? Why don't you just take me?"

Quicken the wiggle of your finger inside her to reach the right spots. Chaewon gasps out girlishly, looking back at you as if she expects you to just get to it. That's how most of her fans would have done, but you are no ordinary fan of hers. You are her stylist, someone she trusts and someone she actually wants to fuck her.

"It's just so fun to tease you. Look at Chaewonie all red and blushing."

She does. She gazes in the mirror and sees her own flushed face, and becomes redder. Since when did she become this horny for anyone? There's been the occasional boy toy here and there, yet she always finds herself wanting you.

"Please, oppa," she begs, with a cherry on top. Her own cherries must have been rock hard under her bra right now. They poke through the fabric, not protrudingly enough to show an imprint, but still tweakable. They are your findings in the experiment that is "Explore Kim Chaewon: erect, yet soft tempting things that slide against your palm.

Stop fingering her for a while to smack her ass again. This time, you do not hold back. Its impact sends Chaewon's hips jerking forward. She cries out in pain, but your focus is on the way her fat ass cheeks ripples in your hand.

"Say it again," you command firmly. Your eyes seal onto the reflections of Chaewon's in the reflective glass. She whines, not knowing what to do being put in a situation like this, so you spank her again. "Say it again, Chaewon-ah."

"Oppa, can you—pretty please?—fuck my ass?"

Her words are the perfectly written code to trigger the following events: the zipper being wrung even higher, and your cock sliding up into Chaewon's asshole. The tightness is overwhelming; all the lube you've used is the natural wetness from her cunt.

Now, Chaewon arcs her back and screams. Her virginal asshole is not used to your size nor girth, but the pain only extracts more juice from her cunt. It is even wetter than from when you fingered her. She bites her lip in order to quiet herself down, but you slam into her ass harder, knocking her into the table.

"Ah! Oppa!"

"Scream louder," you command. Grasp her by the waist and start to pound her fervently. The puckered hole just grips you so well. What else can you do but let it? Hell, even make it?

Chaewon whimpers. "But what if someone hears? Oppa!" She screams again because of your cock roughly jerking to the depths of her ass, amplifying the pleasure that warms her whole body.

"Let them, they might even join in on the fun."

Chaewon considers this, and you can tell that deep inside, she has to confess that she likes the idea. Imagining someone coming in as you pound her before the mirror in the salon... it is a fantasy that she has not even considered.

She gasps as you add your fingers inside her cunt again. Her gasp turns into a wail; she's being fille din both holes simultaneously, and you are in no way being gentle. Your fingertips dig into a rougher texture, making Chaewon cry out. That is how you know you've reached her G-spot. Start to rub into that spot more and kiss her delicate neck and ears. Capture her earlobe with your teeth and increase the speed of your drills.

"Mm, ahh, fuck, oppa!" Chaewon wails needily. The penetration from both holes is becoming too much. She is just being stretched too well. All her sensitive places are being overstimulated. But she can't cum now! Not when you're jerking into her so perfectly and her mouth is lewdly slack as she watches herself in the mirror. Not when your cock stretches her tight asshole so perfectly that it is nearly agape!

"No, no, can't cum yet!" Chaewon's ass sways just like the part of the choreography you've watched for so long, again and again. "Can't cum y-yet—ahhh!"

Girl cum floods your hand like a storm. Chaewon's scream of pleasure is the thunder. The lightning speed of her body squirming and bucking into yours brings you to your orgasm, too. Her asshole has become incredibly tight despite the stretch your cock has made, wringing ribbons of cum from its tip and filling her ass with semen.

Such a shame that this has to end. You want to stay in the heavens of her ass forever.

Deftly pull out with pants that mirror Chaewon's. Her shorts are now ruined. Her creampied ass wets the fabric along with her own cum. It's filthy—you know you should be angry that her need to be ruined has done its own way of ruining the shorts you've painstakingly sewn and designed, but in that moment, you don't mind. You don't mind one bit.

±

That's your first orgasm for the night. Your cum has spurted all over your shorts and shirt. You are beyond exhausted; you have been wanking off to Chaewon all night, and your mind has gone to places you never knew could reach.

You can't move nor speak, so instead, you look at your desktop wallpaper of her in the background. She is beautiful—her tongue is cutely stuck out as she mimicks a Kuromi expression. A picture that is supposed to be cute suddenly gives you an idea again.

Sigh and wrap your hand back on your cock. Here we go again.

±

"You're just so boringgg! Why can't we do it?"

If you were a different person and were told that those words came from a five-year-old girl spoiled by overly adoring parents, you would have believed it. But you aren't a different person and Chaewon isn't five; she's twenty-fucking-two years old and your girlfriend.

It's the weekend, and Chaewon has decided, because you are home, to be brattier than ever. You know your endless scolding and spankings won't stop her because she thrives on those like a little devil with each sin you make, so you try to ignore her loud complaints as you go through your phone.

She sits on the floor, legs folded beneath her, throwing another temper tantrum. You're used to it, but it still annoys you to no end.

"Why can't we do it?" she whines, slapping your knee. "Other couples do it a lot! But you won't let me!"

You ignore her, subtly rolling your eyes and scrolling through your phone. Cool, another funny dog video. But that doesn't evoke a laugh from you; you're too riled up by Chaewon to even chuckle.

You know what she's asking from you, and you are not about to give in.

It's not that you don't want to, per se; it's that you are afraid that it might hurt her. Even if she begs for it day or night, you aren't sure you can go ahead without hurting her.

Despite Chaewon's brattiness (both in and out of your sex life), you still love her and would not want to put her in pain.

"Why can't you put it in my ass too? Are you scared?"

Yeah, that's correct: Kim Chaewon has been begging you to do anal. You know it sounds ridiculous that she has to plead for it from you, but you have your reasons.

Reasons that you are having difficulty keeping.

But you roll your eyes. Fine, you'll bite.

Place your phone down on the sofa, your eyes trained on her with a squint. "Chaewon, I'm tired of this."

"I am too!" she fires back.

"And I'm not scared, Chaewon."

"Oh? Then fuck me."

"Easy," you say, licking your lips. You are about to reach for her when Chaewon shakes her head.

"Uh-uh! You don't just fuck me…I want you to fuck me in the ass."

You should have seen that coming. The little brat.

but if she wants it that bad…

Your mind is a large fire of frustration. Your girlfriend is being the most annoying person on Earth right now, and the pent-up tension between the two of you isn't helping at all. Not one bit.

Your hands quivering, you grab Chaewon without thinking and throw her on the sofa. She screams, whether out of excitement or actual fear is unknown to you. You simply wring her panties and shorts from her legs, finally giving in after abstaining from it for so long.

"Fuck, oppa, what are you doing?" Chaewon asks. Her legs are pushes back in the air. She gasps when you blow cold air all over her pussy, and the round brown hole that has barely been used.

"Lubing you up, what else?"

Chaewon moans with pleasure when your lips connect with her lower ones. Your tongue slides over her lips, flicking her clit, and licking its sensitive form repeatedly.

Chaewon practically quivers from gratification. She lies back to enjoy your oral attack, but you aren't about to give her a gentle way in. Not at all. You grab her thighs and wildly wiggle your tongue inside her, lapping up the juices that eventually start flowing. Lick from the bottom a stripe that finishes sharply on her clit, before trying out something new.

Your tongue prods against her brown hole. "Oh!" Chaewon screams, hands on her mouth as she watches you. She loses sight of you; she can only see stars as this oddly new sensation ripples through her body. Would she like it? Or would she regret asking you to expand your horizons in bed?

Your tongue eases in through the tight hole and backs out, too. It isn't quite anything like you expected. She tastes... delicious? Her juices flow down to her peach and make it easier to eat it, adding to the delicious flavor that is and only is Kim Chaewon.

"Fuck, oppa, you eat my ass so well!" cries out Chaewon. Her asshole tightens around your tongue, but you continue to lick and lap. All the while, your nose also provides constant stimulation to her clit with unintended but welcome rubs.

Chaewon's thighs crash into your head. You actually start to run out of air. You have kept at alternating eating out her ass and pussy, have become so inmersed in eating her out that you forget yourself. Inhale sharply through your nose and let her feminine scent invade your senses, just like how your tongue does to the wet and tight cunt and her unexpectedly delicious ass. It doesn't help that Chaewon keeps wiggling her cunt in your face, forcing you to continue eating her out with no break. Your plan of not giving her rest throughout this session has backfired on you, too.

Luckily, Chaewon is close. She announces it loudly, breath catching in her throat, before she screams loudly. She suddenly tears at your hair and forces you to keep your tongue wildly wiggling in both of her holes, sliding over her erogenous zones and filling them both. It is too much for a one-guy job, and you aren't too sure you can handle it. You aren't sure if you can handle her.

You start to spank Chaewon's thighs wildly, a sign for her to back out. You fire angry slaps at her ass too, but no matter how red and sore they become, they remain around your head. She's desperate, now, but you are, too. Who will win this game? Chaewon, who is squeezing her own breasts and lying back on the sofa pillows moaning, or you—her good-for-nothing daddy?

It's obvious now. Daddies always give in. Might as well do so in a way that pleasures you, too.

Soon, Kim Chaewon is upside-down. She is slobbering all over your cock, diligently blowing its girth, while you give your all into eating her cunt out. You groan; you forgot how good she is at giving you head. Such a pity you are out of breath to praise her. At least your hips are diligently knocking into that cute little face, causing her to gag wildly.

±

Wow.

You are stunned at the thoughts your own mind can create. The clarity of it all makes your nth orgasm less intense. Although you have had your head full of thoughts about Kim Chaewon—her bending over and letting you take her ass, and her being bratty as you eat her out—only one thought remains clear:

I should become a smut writer.

You have read them before, and it is possibly that which has led to all this feral feelings over Chaewon. You have fantasized a lot before, but you have never actually considered writing them down or posting them.

Perhaps you could—no, you should—write them down. Maybe someone out there will like them enough. Tumblr is always a good place to start.

Determined, you wipe yourself down and clean your place up. You log into your barely touched Google Documents account, add a fresh new document, and start to write.

[patowrd]

Capitán - Strollonso drabble

I'm not entirely sure what this is. Thank you Lance for the most overtly flirty secret Santa gift I've ever seen <3

warnings; v. slight nsfw, that's pretty much it

Lance can’t quite figure out how he got here.

Well, that’s a half lie, he knows exactly how he invited himself onto Fernando’s yacht, can precisely recall the moment where he scribbled a message onto the wine bottle before he wrapped it and the hat up for secret Santa, can’t wait to share it scrawled hastily on the label of one of his dad’s priceless pinots. It hadn’t been a big deal, though, because this was Fernando, and he and Lance were friends, teammates, two guys who could have a drink together outside of the F1 circus without it being weird, or awkward, or jarring. 

And it hasn’t been. For the last few hours it’s actually been lovely; the mediterranean sun is golden and hot on Lance’s flushed cheeks, and the pinot turns out to not be so bad after all. Fernando’s also a hell of a cook, or at least he looks good working the barbecue; Lance can tell his eyes are lingering just a little, can feel his pupils sticking to the folds of Fernando’s wet t-shirt, at the way it smoothly coats the ripples of muscle on his flanks. It isn’t weird to think that Fernando’s fit, Lance thinks, and he bites his tongue before he says anything stupid, instead taking a sip of his third glass of wine (or maybe it’s his fifth, he hasn’t been counting).

Fernando chuckles when Lance asks to see his tattoo anyway, turning towards him with a slight glint in his eye and abandoning his tongs on the table next to the grill. Lance is biting his tongue so hard he might draw blood, and he’s praying that Fernando doesn’t notice the deepening of the flush across his cheeks and down his neck. He reclines, his elbows resting against the harsh grain of the deck, and watches as Fernando peels his shirt off, making sure his back faces Lance so that he has a full view of the samurai tattoo stretched across the soft angles of his suntanned back. Fernando must know about Lance’s schoolboy crush, because he looks around for the hat, plops it onto his head, and smirks at him while flexing his biceps like Lance won’t just spontaneously combust. He points to the ‘Capitán’ embroidered across his forehead and that’s when Lance realizes he’s fucked; Fernando’s in charge, through and through.

He steps in closer, hand reaching for the tattoo on Lance’s ribs like he’s never seen it before, like it hasn’t been on show for hours as Lance lounged lazily all across the yacht, his body feeling looser and lighter than it has in weeks. The tattoo feels so warm now that Fernando’s eyes are trained to it, almost burning as his hand reaches out to touch it.

And Fernando honest to god slides his thumb right across the ink, the slightly calloused fingertip making goosebumps bloom all down Lance’s chest. He’s breathing heavy now, his eyes widening slightly as Fernando’s own meet his gaze. It shouldn’t feel this way, Lance thinks, the thought of Fernando touching him shouldn’t make his breath hitch in his throat. He can feel the understated hardness of his cock, can ignore it as long as Fernando doesn’t notice; but the devilish smirk painted across the Spaniard’s features tells Lance that he certainly will, that he already has.

The kiss stirs something deep inside of him, undoing a knot he’s so carefully tied in his own tongue. Maybe his body can accept his repressed urges better than his brain can, because Lance can’t fight the urge to reach for the back of Fernando’s neck and pull at the strands which curl underneath the hat. Low moans escape his throat when Lance tugs, and he wonders if Fernando knows just how pretty he sounds, how broken and unwound. He’s harsher than Lance is used to, lips rougher than the nameless girls he makes out with in darkened clubs; here the sun shines bright across the golden expanse of Fernando’s chest, and his teeth lightly graze Lance’s lips as they pull away, mouths red and raw.

And what the hell, Lance thinks as he rises up to his knees, Fernando’s shadow cast over him as he opens his mouth wide, it isn’t a big deal if they fuck on Fernando’s yacht sometimes.

[ltash]

Forever

Ep-11 "Doubtful" SimonGhostRileyxFemaleReader

Grief is the price we pay for love."

As they moved into the compound with military efficiency, Andrea and the team approached a large, ominous container. She stepped forward and pulled open the heavy door, revealing a sight that made Soap's eyes widen in disbelief.

"What the hell is this?" Soap muttered, his voice laced with shock.

Ghost stepped closer, his eyes scanning the contents. "It's all in English," he observed, his tone grim.

Andrea joined them, curiosity piqued. She grasped a handle and pulled it up, revealing a missile emerging from the container.

"Steaming Jesus," Ghost breathed, taking a step back. "Ballistic missiles."

"It'll go a thousand miles," Soap added, his voice tinged with alarm.

"Yeah, at least," Ghost agreed, his mind racing. "How the hell did Iran get its hands on this?"

"Ghost! Andrea, take a look at this." Andrea's eyes widened as she examined the markings on the missiles. "They're American," she said, disbelief creeping into her voice.

Ghost immediately reached for his radio. "7-3! Get us through to Laswell."

The radio crackled to life. "Laswell, this is Ghost. We got something."

"Ghost, do you have Hassan?" Laswell's voice came through, clear and direct.

"Negative. We found a weapons cache. Hassan's got missiles," Ghost replied, his voice steady.

"This is Gold Eagle Actual. Repeat your last," General Shepherd's voice echoed over the comms, a tone of urgency lacing his words.

Andrea, unable to contain herself, blurted out, "We got American missiles, Daddy!" Her voice echoed through the comms, drawing the surprised glances of her team. Realizing her mistake, she quickly added, "Oops. Sorry."

Back at CIA headquarters, General Shepherd rubbed his forehead in exasperation before striding into the conference room where Laswell was conducting a meeting. His expression was a mix of concern and determination as he prepared to address the unfolding crisis.

General Shepherd strode into the conference room, his expression grim. The gathered CIA officials fell silent as he took his place at the head of the table. Laswell quickly briefed him on the situation.

"Sir, Ghost's team has discovered a cache of American ballistic missiles in Iran. Hassan is linked to their distribution."

Meeting is over. He said and all the employees left.

Shepherd's face hardened. "This is a major breach. How the hell did they get their hands on our missiles?"

Laswell shook her head. "We don't know yet, but we need to act fast. Hassan cannot be allowed to deploy these."

Shepherd nodded, his mind racing through the implications. "I want a full investigation. Every possible angle needs to be explored. In the meantime, we need to get those missiles out of enemy hands."

Laswell turned back to the screen where Ghost's team was still visible. "Ghost, we're initiating an immediate response. You need to secure those missiles and extract any intel you can find on their origins."

"Understood," Ghost replied. "We'll get it done."

Back in the field, Ghost, Soap, and Andrea moved with renewed urgency. The discovery of the American missiles had heightened the stakes. As they secured the area, Andrea's mind raced with questions and fears. The sight of the missiles, and the realization of their origin, added a new layer of complexity to their mission.

"Ghost, what do we do now?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

"We secure the area, gather all intel, and prepare for extraction," Ghost replied. "We can't let these missiles fall into the wrong hands."

As they worked, Andrea's thoughts drifted to her father. His voice over the comms had brought her a moment of comfort, a reminder of the familial bond they shared despite the chaos around them.

"Andrea, focus," Ghost's voice cut through her thoughts. "We need you sharp."

She nodded, shaking off her reverie. "I'm here, Ghost. Let's get this done."

They moved efficiently, securing the cache and gathering intel. The weight of their discovery hung over them, but they remained resolute. For Andrea, the mission had taken on a personal dimension. She was determined to see it through, not just for her team, but for her father and the integrity of their mission.

General Shepherd stormed into the room again, this time his expression a mixture of anger and urgency. "Iran is in possession of American missiles," he declared, his voice resonating through the tense atmosphere.

"American missiles in AQ's hands," Laswell echoed, her brow furrowing with concern.

"Hassan has been passing out our ballistic missiles like it's fucking Halloween, and we didn't know about it," Shepherd continued, his frustration palpable.

"It gives Iran plausible deniability," Laswell pointed out.

"Deniability my ass," Shepherd retorted sharply. "I want to know how many they have and where they intend to use them."

"If Hassan is moving missiles, he has a smuggling partner," Laswell deduced.

"Well then, I would advise you to find out who that is," Shepherd snapped back.

Laswell met his gaze evenly. "Give my team two hours with those missiles, sir. I will know everybody who has ever breathed on them."

"Negative! I want them destroyed," Shepherd countered.

"General, there's valuable intel there," Laswell argued.

"This is an intelligence failure, Laswell. It's not going to be a tactical one. There will be 500 enemy soldiers there by sunrise. We need a win fast," Shepherd asserted.

He turned to his comms, his voice firm and commanding. "Gold Eagle to Ghost. Move your team and call for fire. I want those weapons destroyed."

"What! But we just finished gathering?" Andrea's voice crackled through the comms, filled with disbelief and frustration, but she was swiftly cut off by her father.

"Andrea! Listen to me. Those weapons need to be destroyed. You got that?" Shepherd's tone left no room for argument.

"Roger that," Andrea replied, her voice tinged with resignation.

"Roger that, Actual," Ghost confirmed, his voice steady and unwavering.

As the comms went silent, the gravity of the mission weighed heavily on the team, each member bracing themselves for the next phase of their operation.

The team swiftly moved into position, coordinating the call for the destruction of the compound. Ghost barked orders, ensuring every member knew their role as they prepared to leave the site. The tension was palpable, each second ticking away with a sense of urgency.

"Bravo Team, move out!" Ghost commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Soap and Andrea followed, their steps quick and precise. The night was thick with the sounds of distant gunfire and the heavy thrum of their own breathing. As they reached the designated evac point, the roar of helicopter blades grew louder, signaling their escape was near.

"Evac is inbound," Soap relayed, glancing back at Ghost.

"Get ready to board," Ghost replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any last-minute threats.

The helicopter descended, kicking up dust and debris as it landed. The team quickly boarded, Andrea helping a wounded marine into the chopper. Once everyone was secured, the helicopter lifted off, the ground below shrinking away.

As they ascended, the ground beneath them erupted in flames and smoke, the compound's destruction a vivid reminder of their mission's success. Andrea watched the inferno, her heart heavy with the loss but resolute in the knowledge that they had done what was necessary.

"Mission accomplished," Ghost said, his voice steady in her ear. "Let's head home."

Andrea nodded, her thoughts a swirl of emotions. The mission had tested her in ways she hadn't anticipated, but she knew one thing for certain: she was ready for whatever came next.

As they touched down at their base in Al Mazrah, Andrea stormed inside the locker room, her steps echoing off the walls. She yanked off her helmet and vest, throwing them into a corner with a force that betrayed her frustration and grief. Collapsing onto a bench, she buried her face in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked. Her sobs filled the otherwise silent room, each one a testament to the agony she felt.

Ghost stood in the doorway, his tall, imposing frame silhouetted against the harsh fluorescent light. He watched her, a silent sentinel, his eyes hidden behind the skull mask but filled with an understanding only a fellow soldier could possess. For a moment, he hesitated, caught between the desire to comfort her and the need to maintain his stoic exterior. Finally, he stepped into the room, the sound of his boots a soft rhythm against the tile floor, approaching her with a rare gentleness.

He approached her cautiously, not wanting to startle her. "Andrea," he said softly, his voice gentle yet firm. "It's okay to let it out."

She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "They died, Ghost," she choked out. "I couldn't save them."

Ghost knelt down in front of her, his tall frame making the movement seem almost reverent. "You did everything you could," he said, his voice steady. "War is unforgiving. We lose people. But we also save many more because of the sacrifices we make."

Andrea wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to regain her composure. "I just... I didn't expect it to be this hard."

Ghost nodded, understanding her pain. "It never gets easier. But you learn to carry it, to use it as a reminder of why we fight. To protect those who can't protect themselves."

She took a deep breath, his words providing a small measure of comfort. "Thank you," she whispered.

Ghost stood up, offering her his hand. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for the debriefing. We still have work to do."

Andrea took his hand, rising to her feet. As they walked out of the locker room, she felt a newfound resolve. The mission had been a harsh introduction to the realities of war.

They entered the conference room, the air heavy with the tension of the mission's aftermath. A laptop sat at the center of the table, its screen displaying the live feed from CIA headquarters. Laswell and General Shepherd appeared, their expressions stern and expectant.

The team settled into their seats, Ghost at the head, Andrea beside him. The weight of their failure to capture Hassan and the discovery of the American missiles loomed over them. Andrea cleared her throat, beginning the debriefing with a concise summary of the mission's events.

Laswell's voice cut through the silence. "Ghost, give us the full report."

Ghost nodded, detailing their infiltration, the discovery of the missiles, and the subsequent destruction order. Andrea's eyes remained fixed on the table, her earlier tears now replaced by a steely resolve.

General Shepherd's voice boomed through the speakers. "We need answers. How did those missiles end up in AQ's hands? Who is Hassan's smuggling partner?"

"We're working on it, General," Ghost replied, his tone measured. "We need more time to piece everything together."

Laswell leaned forward, her gaze intense. "We can't afford more slip-ups. The intel we lost in that compound could have been crucial."

Andrea glanced up, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "We'll find out who supplied those missiles. We won't let this happen again."

The debriefing continued, each team member contributing their observations and insights. As the session drew to a close, General Shepherd's parting words hung in the air. "Get it done. We can't afford another failure."

The screen went dark, and the room fell silent. The weight of the mission and its implications settled over them, but amid the uncertainty, a shared determination took root. They had a job to do, and they would see it through.

They left the conference room. Andrea settled into her quarter. It was more like a barrack but separate for her. The al mazrah base stood between merely a desert.

Andrea exhaled heavily as she sat on the edge of her bed, her quarters feeling more like a temporary refuge than a home. The Al Mazrah base loomed in the middle of the desert, its surroundings stark and uninviting under the dim light filtering through the windows.

Her mind was a whirlwind of turmoil, the images of the fallen soldiers haunting her thoughts. She couldn't shake the weight of their sacrifice, nor the responsibility she felt for their deaths. In an attempt to find solace, she slipped into silk pajamas and busied herself with making a cup of coffee. The routine was familiar, a small comfort amidst the chaos of her emotions.

Stepping outside with her coffee, Andrea found herself enveloped in the base's quiet solitude. Thick concrete walls guarded them from the outside world, casting long shadows in the darkness. She stood there, sipping her coffee slowly, letting the warmth soothe her nerves as she gazed out into the desert night.

"Couldn't sleep," Ghost's voice cut through the silence, causing Andrea to jump slightly. She turned to see him standing against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. Cladded in a black hooded jacket, his balaclava bearing its distinctive skull print, a symbol of his enigmatic presence.

"Oh my god, Ghost, you gave me a heart attack," Andrea said with a nervous laugh, trying to dispel the tension that lingered between them.

"Can't sleep in unfamiliar places," she added, attempting to explain her restlessness. The desert nights were alien to her, lacking the comforting sounds and sights of home.

Ghost nodded knowingly, his brown eyes serious behind the mask. "It takes time to adjust," he offered quietly, understanding her struggle without needing to voice it.

Andrea sighed, feeling a sense of relief in his presence. Despite the mission's harrowing nature, Ghost's calm demeanor provided a measure of reassurance. They stood together in companionable silence, the night slowly passing around them as they shared a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of their duties.

"We'll make it through this," Ghost finally said, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

Andrea looked at him, grateful for his silent support. "Yeah," she agreed softly, taking another sip of her coffee. "We will."

Andrea's face lit up with a mixture of nostalgia and fondness as she spoke of Simon.

"I wonder what Simon is doing right now?" She said.

"Simon!" Ghost asked.

"He was my high school crush, my best friend," she explained, her voice tinged with warmth despite the heaviness of their recent mission.

Ghost listened attentively, though he already knew much about Andrea's past as he was the same Simon, the ghost of her past but she did not know that due to his mask. "It's been 11 years since I last saw him, when he joined the British Army," she continued, her gaze distant as memories of Simon flooded her mind.

"He must have seen a lot out there," Ghost remarked quietly, understanding the weight of military service and its impact on relationships and lives.

Andrea nodded thoughtfully, a hint of concern flickering in her eyes. "Yeah, I wonder how he's doing now. We used to talk about everything. He was like family to me," she confessed, a touch of longing evident in her voice.

Ghost studied her, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "You'll see him again someday," he said gently, offering reassurance. "When this mission is over, maybe you'll have the chance to catch up."

Andrea smiled gratefully, appreciating Ghost's understanding. "I hope so," she replied softly, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the friend who had been a significant part of her life before the complexities of duty and distance intervened.

As they stood together in the quiet of the desert night, Andrea found comfort in the camaraderie they shared, knowing that despite the challenges they faced, there were connections and memories worth holding onto.

[peggy-ovo]

i promised extras so here yall gooooo

heres the final if u haven't seen it :3333

ok first off we got the raw no colour lines

with a face closeup bc im actually really happy with how it turned out, angle and all, im an anime girlie so it was a pretty big jump from the way i usually draw

more below v v v

I took all my reference photos on myself (aside lighting) bc i don't know how to search for stuff well, i ended up doing 3 separate rounds for different things but it WORKED so if u ever need a reference for something and you cant find it make one urself just take a video and then screenshots of that video and know that a wardrobe railing makes for an excellent makeshift pipe <3

and a bra over a buttoned shirt works if you dont have a vest for accurate shirt creases

This is the reference i used for the lighting, i would NOT have gotten ANYWHERE without it

also something i thought was kinda cool to look at, how wierd the colours look in light, and how much cooler they are in dark

And finally by popular demand, here is his ass in its original form before i had to take another reference photo for what pants actually look like from that angle because holy hell

it was NOT necessary for there to be that much ass, i had to take a whole new reference video to fix it because i didn't know how to unvacuum seal his pants. but do enjoy i saved it just for u guys

and also i now have a video of me rotating my butt in front of a camera in my work pants PURELY so i could see how they were supposed to look but thats a secret between us

[aviyinglet]

Pixel Yinglets 0.975 is now out for PC!

Hello, everyone! Hefty update today with a bunch of changes and customization options, getting closer to making this presentable as a cloneable public avatar. The Quest version will be live in the next few hours; you can buy this model for $30 on my fascinating Gumroad page, as early-access pricing before it hits 1.0. Details and changelog after the jump!

I finished 0.96 thinking "Ah, time to relax!" and then it was made clear to me during a meeting with friends that the leg rigging couldn't wait any longer -- so I devoted the entire week of working hours (and then some) to releasing 0.97 -- and the following night of experiences made it clear to me that some bugs needed fixing and more work was needed to improve the new-user experience, so now we're at 0.975. The model now has full digitigrade leg rigging on PC, but also a whole bunch of customization options for character creation, including face/body sliders and separate hue sliders for the body and eyes. In retrospect I'm embarrassed as hell that I waited so long to rig the legs properly, but I like to think I went through my hard knocks fixing it.

Because this is now cloneable, I can confirm that this is very functional in six-point full-body tracking. Putting this in the hands of experienced FBT users (my life-partner and several good friends) was revelatory, and has convinced me to get a set of trackers myself right after Vancoufur. Body language changes a lot!

The next update will probably not come as quickly as this one, but it will feature retopologized hands/feet and toggleable clothing. We aren't done with body customization yet, but I consider this a pretty good start!

The public version of this is currently in the wild, but I'll be waiting till .98 to buy Furhub ad space for it. I'm committed to maintaining feature-parity between the free and paid versions of this, with greater customization through production files as the draw for the paid version. Any questions or concerns, please let me know. <3

CHANGELOG:

02/28/2024 & 03/02/2024

VERSION 0.97: THE "LET'S DIGRESS" UPDATE and VERSION 0.975: THE "LET'S DIGRESS" HOTFIX

(PC-only currently, will have Quest version added in less than 24 hours.)

Feature additions:

Radial menus for body characteristic customization:

Hue sliders! Only visible on PC, since it requires the Poiyomi shader. Body and eye colors can be customized independently.

Shelltooth length.

Snout length.

Snout width.

Snout roundness.

Ear roundness.

Ear length.

Belly size.

Chin height.

Hip width.

Underfluff density.

Digitigrade leg armature on PC version, using constraints. Your hip bones should no longer completely dislocate when you crouch! :D

Front and back fur patterns! In the "Base Fur" layer category in the .psd is a "Patterns" subcategory, with "Front Pattern" and "Back Pattern" subcategories that can be toggled, recolored, and customized as you please.

Credits page, accessible from the main circle menu! Tell all your friends!

"Read this first!" page, which summons a plane containing helpful tips for first-time users.

Geometry tweaks:

Raised feet slightly to prevent them from clipping into the ground.

Adjusted shelltooth angle to prevent it from clipping into the lower lip.

Retopologized legs! Now significantly less boxy, and they stick out less far in front of the body (I used Valsalia's "Anatomy of a Yinglet" as reference).

Retopologized ears. The inner part's concave now!

Added blendshapes for all the customization sliders.

Added a bit more volume to the breast size blendshape.

Tweaked waistline to be more yinglet-y.

Tailtip now tapers more to a point.

UV/texture tweaks:

Added front and back fur-pattern layers, toggleable in the PSD.

Repainted legs and ears.

Repainted the weird transparent pixels bordering the tops of the hard black sections of the legs.

Made eyebrow anti-aliasing pixels actual transparency instead of the default fur color.

Changed credits page to use pixelated fonts.

Condensed color legend on texture.

Added "Read this first!" UI elements to texture. (Will be cleaned up when I expand the texture canvas for clothing.)

Armature tweaks:

Re-weighted feet. Still not ideal, but hands and feet will be retopologized for the next update.

Constrained feet to plantigrade ankles.

Added glasses bone. This and the skirt bones will factor into the next major update.

Added bones for individual whiskers.

Other tweaks:

Assigned default values to most properties between 0 and 1.

Radial menus have been reorganized. All customization sliders are nested in a Customization submenu.

Fixed default lid minimizer not firing in eyelid animations.

Restored eye sparkles on Quest.

Known issues:

Feet rigging is passable but could be better; I'll throw myself at it after feet receive the hand retopology.

Can't yet toggle front and back fur-patterns. (There's an issue with decals that causes them to not retain the hard edges of the rest of the model's pixelated texture.) Will be fixed in a later update.

[panda-writes-kpop]

A/N: Happy Halloween!! I'm spending my day in classes and then doing homework afterward 🥲 but at least I'll get to dress up and be comfortable for one of my favorite holidays of the year! 💖

TW: Physical and emotional bullying, specifics about reader's talents and background are given, kinda sad but kinda happy(?)

Acknowledgments: Inspired by the Wednesday Netflix show (yes, I've been holding this fic for a WHILE it was too perfect for Halloween), and the following works by my friends inspired the universe and its characters: @kingmaker-a Ecdysis, You're A Keeper, and Logistics of a Cat; @foolish-sparrow Felix Votum; and @sanccharine mishaps gone right series, and @neon-city-dreams for being awesome <3

Summary: Your bad relationship with your peers causes you to come face-to-face with one of the most brilliant Ravenclaws, Dami. You're afraid that she's just as judgmental as the rest, but through time, she proves to be one of the most important people in your life.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Hey, give it back!"

You tried reasoning with the young Slytherin members, but nothing worked. Perhaps being more strict would do the job?

The eldest boy sticks his tongue out at you as he tosses your art notebook to the shorter, younger boy.

"Let's see what kind of weird things the muggle writes in here."

You wince as he starts to flip through the book. After going through a few pages, he laughs before pointing at a drawing of yours.

"Wow, you really are obsessed with that Lee Dami girl, huh? You wouldn't mind if I told her that on your behalf, right?"

The youngest boy runs into the Great Hall as the oldest laughs like a wild maniac. You nervously bite your lip before running after the shortest boy.

"Yeah, go get 'em, squirt!" The eldest boy teases as your legs fail to carry you remotely close to the young boy.

He stops at the Ravenclaw table, right where Dami is seated. You try to, as calmly as you can after running what feels like an Olympic marathon, approach the table and remain calm.

"Hey, Dami, you wanna see something neat?"

You cringe as the boy hands her the notebook. She carefully handles the notebook before looking up at the boy.

"Is this yours? Why are you handing it to me?"

"No, it's theirs." The boy points over his shoulder at you, and you do your best to calmly wave as you try to tame the wild beast that is your rapidly beating heart.

"Then why do I have it?" Dami nonchalantly asks, and a few Ravenclaws around her giggle at the boy in front of you.

His ears turn red as he huffs and slightly turns toward you. You brace for impact as he storms towards you, but you're surprised when he puts on a brave smile and harshly wraps an arm around you.

"Tell her this is one big misunderstanding and that she can look through the notebook, alright," The boy loudly says before leaning closer to you, "otherwise I'll make the rest of your stay at Hogwarts a living hell."

You nervously laugh before slapping the boy's back as friendly as you can appear to be.

"Of course she can look through it!" You say through gritted teeth, and the boy shoots you a deadly glare before you push yourself away from him. 

Dami looks at you for confirmation, and you feel your face heat up as you nod at her.

You start mentally planning your funeral as soon as Dami touches the cover. You might as well make plans to move to Africa, where no one knows who you are or what your face looks like.

Perhaps that wouldn't be the best idea since you weren't the most multilingual person, so America would be a better fit, right? You could send an owl to your parents, and they'd figure out the details for you! That'd be great because the Wizarding school there is just as good as Hogwarts, plus you'll never have to face Dami again after she ultimately rejects you because what reasonable person would want a loser like you who can't actually verbalize their feelings and instead draws them from every possible angle and OH MY GOD SHE THINKS YOU ARE A STALKER YOU NEED TO VACATE THE AREA IMMEDIATELY WHAT ARE YOU DOING-

"I-"

Dami pauses after she closes the back of the book. You say a prayer to as many deities and saints that you know as you hope that she'll reject you kindly and you can instead live out your days at Hogwarts in shame without having to move to another country.

She looks up at you before a prominent pink blush settles on her cheeks. She clears her throat before readjusting her glasses as your tormentor closes in on Dami.

"So, what did you think? That art is so stalker-ish and lame, right? You'd never want to be with someone like that, huh."

He triumphantly folds his arms as Dami's sweet, deep voice hits your ears.

"I think it's sweet."

"What?" The boy says in utter shock as his eyes are nearly about to widen past their capabilities.

"What?" You softly repeat as you feel lightheaded.

No, she was supposed to reject you and laugh at you, right? When was this a part of the horrid fantasy that you created 30 seconds ago?

More importantly, when did the room start spinning?

The last thing you remember was Dami calling out your name as you felt your body being tugged towards the floor.

~

Although your confession wasn’t anything like your dreams, it managed to land you in Dami’s favor, and now you’re on a date with the girl who you’ve been endlessly doodling in your notebook.

This moment, you decided, was one of two things.

Option A.) A cruel joke by the universe, in which one of your peers would jump out of a nearby bush with one of those muggle recording devices, and your life would return back to normalcy.

Or Option B.) You’re somehow dreaming still, and you probably need to see the headmistress because dozing off like this isn’t good for your health or your grades, and you know what your mother will say when your grades start to slip-

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been staring off in the distance for a while…”

Dami calmly observes you as you nervously shift on the picnic blanket.

“I’m okay… I think.”

You mentally scold yourself before nervously playing with a strand of your hair. Dami sweetly laughs before placing a hand on your shoulder. That part of your body heats up, and your internal body temperature rises about 5 degrees as you feel yourself start to sweat.

What a pair the two of you were.

The brilliant scholar, the one who was a prodigy at everything she tried. The radiant Ravenclaw who managed to excel in every subject and charmed her peers and professors along the way.

And then there was you, the tortured artist. The mockery of your peers was a constant negative force in your life, and you always had your head in a sketchbook or notebook.

She was the strong sunshine, constant and unwavering, and you were a waning moon, ready to disappear to make room for something greater.

Yeah, this was definitely a pity date.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well-”

Dami’s ever-so-gentle with you, as if every last word would break your body like a glass figurine shattering when it hits the floor. You’re scared, sure, but you’re not that much of a wimp, right?

“Dami, I-” You pause to chew on your lip before gently reaching for her. “I really like you, and I’m scared of ruining this date because I think that you think that I’m a freak, just like everyone else does!”

You slap your hand over your mouth as Dami begins to rub your back. You bow your head in shame as you feel her free hand touch your extended hand.

“I don’t think you’re anything like the other kids say you are. That’s why I wanted to come out here with you. I want to find out who you truly are,” She offers you a warm smile as you dare to look up at her, “and if it makes any difference, I really like you too.”

“You do?” A sea of hopefulness floats into your voice as you tentatively smile.

“I do.”

Your eyes widen, and you let go of her hand before wrapping both arms around her. Dami looks startled for a moment before she laughs and wraps her arms around you.

Maybe this year would be different, just like your mother had said.

~

“Do you have the notes for Potions?”

“You weren’t paying attention?” Dami teasingly asks Lia before sorting through the books in her arms. “Color me surprised.”

“Don’t give me the third degree. Ryujin already did that.” Lia scoffs as Dami hands her a few sheets of paper from a book.

“Ryujin sleeps in class almost every day.”

“That’s what I said!” Lia exclaims before quickly looking at Dami’s notes. “My god, you really do take detailed notes.”

“I do my best work in class.” Dami shrugs before looking out at the courtyard. “Do you have Potions today?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but I-” Lia pauses when Dami sticks her arm out in front of both of them. “What is it?”

“Hold my things.” Dami hands her books to a skeptical Lia, who sends Dami a quizzical look until she looks out into the courtyard.

“Oh shit, that’s-”

“Uh-huh.” Dami pulls up her sleeves before grabbing her wand. “That’s why I’m going to interfere.”

“Before they hurt someone?”

“Before someone else jumps in.” Dami corrects as Lia’s eyes widen.

“Are you referring to SuA and Siyeon?”

“Who else would I be referring to?” Dami sighs before walking away. “Make sure nobody tries to jump in, alright? I need to handle this myself.”

“To prove that you’re a good girlfriend?” Lia jokes as Dami walks towards the scene in the courtyard.

“Funny, Lia.” Dami mumbles as she approaches the scene unfolding in front of her.

~

When you were younger, the teasing and bullying from your peers would bother you to no end. You’d sob in the arms of your friends and Dami every time they decided to mess with you.

Now? They were just an annoyance to you.

“Please give it back…” You hopelessly say as you watch two of your peers hold your books hostage ten feet in the air.

“And why would I do that?”

Because you’re not a total bitch?

“C’mon, don’t you have anything better to do?” Exasperated, you pull out your wand as they both chuckle.

“Oh, what are you gonna do, summon your Patronus?” One teases as the other laughs.

You bow your head in shame before putting your wand away.

“That’s what I thought, you pathetic waste of-”

“What are the two of you doing?” 

Your head snaps up as you make eye contact with Dami.

Thank goodness!

“Dami!” One of the students squeaks out before running off, and the other slowly lowers your things towards the ground.

“You’re no fun.” They say before throwing your stuff on the ground.

Your eyes widen as you quickly gather your things from the ground.

“You’re sick!” Lia yells from the side as the other student rolls their eyes.

“We were just joking around, right?” They shoot daggers at you, and you shiver under their glare.

“Ahem.” 

You pause as you hear heels click behind you.

“Headmistress BoA, I-”

“My office. Now.” She calmly says, and the student bows their head before walking away. “Oh, and if you track down your friend before I get back, I won’t make you clean out the Hippogriff cages.”

You dare to look at the student who’s walking much faster now, and you find yourself laughing as you gather your things and yourself off of the ground.

“Are you alright?” She gently asks before placing a hand on your back. “They gave you back all of your things, right?”

You swiftly look through your things before nodding.

“Thank you again, Headmistress.” You quietly say as Dami makes her way to your side. “Thanks for saving my ass… again.”

Dami wraps an arm around your shoulders to comfort you before leaning into you.

“I’d happily step in any time.”

Headmistress BoA gently smiles at the two of you before taking a step back.

“I’m glad you have someone like Dami looking out for you,” She says before waving Lia over, “and it seems that you’ve managed to charm quite a few other students as well.”

“Oh, I…” You bite your lip before staring at the ground. “I don’t think I’d call myself charming.”

“Dami would agree to disagree!” Lia teases, which causes Dami to blush, and you to laugh.

“Well, I will leave the three of you to your studies. If there’s anything I can do, please, don’t be afraid to-”

“Headmistress, you’ve already done so much for me…” You softly interrupt her before looking over to Dami. “for us. I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

~

After you and Dami were close and became ‘more than friends’, the torture that you experienced only multiplied. It went beyond verbal teasing and the occasional shove or someone stealing your notebooks.

It wouldn’t be a day at Hogwarts if you weren’t shoved into a wall and had your face shoved into your food. It got so bad that you ended up confessing to your mother, and when she confronted the Headmistress, they couldn’t find anyone who would talk about the bullying besides you.

You tried to take it on the chin, but after one particularly rough day, you broke down in tears and had enough of their teasing. You stopped reacting to their normal shenanigans, which encouraged them to go farther.

You were walking to The Great Hall while admiring the architecture. You had enjoyed your class, which was mostly because you didn’t have to use your wand all day. It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t the best spellcaster, but you could easily outbrew anyone in Potions and you knew what made the plants grow faster in Herbology. 

You were happy because you were to see Dami, and your day was always better when you saw her. In your ignorant bliss, you had failed to notice the snickering students who were holding a pot of honey above your head with their wands.

You had opened the doors to The Great Hall, and everyone in the world seemed to be looking at you when your assailants launched their attacks.

You screamed when the honey fell onto you, and the force threw you to the ground. You managed to push yourself out of the way of the falling pot before it hit the ground.

All of the students outside of the hall were laughing at you, and from what you could see, a good amount of students were laughing in the dining hall.

You immediately started crying before getting up and running away from the dining hall. You didn’t care that you left your things behind, but it didn’t matter since they were probably ruined anyway.

You didn’t stop running until you had reached a bathroom far from the living quarters and The Great Hall. You closed the door, and you fell back against the nearest wall before burying your head in your arms.

A gentle knock at the door manages to disturb your pity party.

“Leave me alone…” You weakly mumble, and you curse yourself for being so weak, just as your peers had said.

“Are you in here?” Dami asks, and you sniffle before answering.

“You should’ve started with your name.” You say before managing to let out a broken chuckle. “The door’s unlocked.”

The door creaks when it is opened, and Dami files in before shutting it.

“My God…” She mumbles before grabbing a washcloth from beside the sink.

Dami puts the stopper in the sink, and she fills the sink with water before running the washcloth under the faucet.

She offers you the washcloth, and your shaking hand reaches out for it before you stop.

“Do you mind if you-”

“No, of course not.” Dami answers before shutting the faucet off. 

She sits next to you with the washcloth in her hands.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” You softly say before lifting your head up.

Dami gently begins to rub the honey away by starting with your face. After she finishes with one side, she switches hands, and her right hands cleans your face as the other holds the clean part of your cheek.

“I’m so sorry that this happened to you…” Dami mutters as she gently strokes your cheek with her thumb. “How does this continue to happen?”

“I’m an easy target. I’m useless with my wand, I can’t fly on a broomstick, and I don’t know how to talk to people.” You exasperatedly say.

“But there’s so much that you can do. You’re brilliant with Potions and Herbology.” She compliments you before continuing on. “You’re creative, much more than I am, and you’re kind to everyone, even if they’re not kind to you back.”

“You see the good in everyone, Dami.” You lovingly look at her as she smiles.

“I see the good in you because everyone, including yourself,” She sternly says the last part, “refuses to. Someone has to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You can, but it doesn’t hurt to rely on others.” Dami wistfully says before pulling her right hand away from your face “Let me clean the washcloth, and I’ll work on your arms, alright?”

“Okay.” You feel better as Dami stands and walks over to the sink. 

You like the quiet bliss that is between the two of you. No one may understand why the brilliant scholar loves the tortured artist, but you’re starting to get it now.

Suddenly, the door slams open and you jump before curling up into yourself. Dami looks up from the sink before a sour look settles on her face.

“Headmistress BoA…”

“What is going on here?” She sternly says before glancing at you before looking back at Dami. “Did you… were you a part of this, Ms. Lee?”

“I didn’t do-”

“She was trying to help!” You exclaim before tears fall from your eyes. “Please don’t make her go.”

“Are you sure Ms. Lee wasn’t-”

“She wouldn’t hurt me!” You yell before quickly standing up.

You try to take a step forward, but your knees wobble and you fall on the ground.

“My love-” Dami immediately drops the washcloth in the water before placing a hand on your knee. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” You shake your head before placing one of your hands on hers, “I’m alright.”

“Ah, I see what’s going on here.” A glint of mischief appears in the Headmistress’ eyes before she chuckles and smiles. “Clean up, change your clothes, and head to my office once you’re done. I’ll set dinner aside for both of you, and we can chat about finally putting an end to this mess.”

You smile at the Headmistress before looking over to Dami.

“That’d be great, Headmistress. Thank you.”

~

You grab the key from your coat pocket as you climb the stairs with Dami and Lia by your side.

“Ugh, do I have to go to Potions?” Lia complains before sighing. “I’d much rather go to Defense Against the Dark Arts again then do this shit-”

“I’d trade you.” You mumble.

“How bad was class today?”

“I made a fool of myself, as per usual.” You groan as you remember your classmates’ teasing. “Another failure I will never live down.”

“Don’t let those Slytherins bother you-”

“-They were Ravenclaws.” You correct Lia before she pauses mid-step.

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. A lot of the physical teasing comes from Slytherins and Gryffindors, but I can’t count the times I’ve been harassed by Ravenclaws.” You bite your lip before Dami sets a gentle hand on your back. “You think they’d be nicer considering I am a Ravenclaw.”

“Don’t listen to them. They’re judgemental.” Dami reassures you.

“Even you?”

“I’ve learned better from people like you.” Dami honestly says as you reach the fourth floor.

“Well, I’ve got to grab the textbook from our dorms. I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” Lia says to Dami before turning to you, “and I will have a hundred and one questions about Potions to ask you.”

“I’ll do my best to help.” You gently smile before waving Lia off as she continues to climb the stairs.

You loop arms with Dami as you lead her to a locked room, far from prying eyes.

“How was Herbology?” Dami pushes back a strand of your hair before you unlock the door.

“Professor Im says I have a lot of potential in the field. She wants me to start looking into higher level classes for next year. So, it was as per usual. What about you?”

“Potions was simplistic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, well, I-”

You open the door before gently nudging Dami.

“It’s okay, Dami, I know you’re good at it. You’re destined to be an Auror, I know.”

You mutter a soft ‘Lumos’, which sets the room alight with a soft glow.

“You’ve put up more art.” Dami notes as you set your books aside.

“What else do you think I do here?” You joke before grabbing your staple apron. “But I’m glad you noticed.”

“What are you going to work on?”

“Undecided… but maybe I just want to hang out with you.”

“Oh? Is that so?” 

You let go of Dami’s arm before grabbing her waist. She smiles before wrapping her arms around your torso.

“I-I am sorry.” Dami mutters as you pull her close.

“For what? None of this is your fault, Dami.”

“I just wish I could’ve done… more.”

“Don’t say things like that-”

“You’re planning about going back to the muggle world permanently after you’ve finished your education at Hogwarts, right?”

Your eyes widen as you let go and back away from Dami.

“Did my mom tell you that?”

“Your dad, actually.” Dami pauses for a beat before grabbing your hand. “When were you going to tell me about the fact that you’re taking muggle classes and classes here? Is bullying the reason why you’re going back to the muggle world?”

“Yeah, it is,” You mumble softly before squeezing her hand, “but I didn’t want to say anything, I know you wanted to be an Auror, you’d be brilliant and the best at it.”

“Why the muggle classes, though?”

“I’m a half-blood. It was my mom’s dream for me to go to Hogwarts, just as she did, and my dad… he’s a professor at a well-known university, so he agreed with my mother as long as I kept up with my muggle work.” You sigh before shaking your head. “Was my dad worried about me?”

“He thought you were making the wrong choice.” Dami explains.

“My dad loves you, and he wants what he thinks is best for me.”

“I want you to stay.” 

“You do?”

“Of course I do. As much as I want to be an Auror, I couldn’t imagine being there without you.” 

“That’s sweet of you to say…” You trail off. “But I don’t belong here. You know that, as do many of our peers.”

“They might not think you belong, but you’ll always belong with me.” Dami pulls you close before you rest your head on her frame. “At least think about it, my love. That’s all I can ask from you.”

“I will, dear, I promise.” You peck her cheek before grabbing a paint brush. “You can go back to the dorms and work in peace if you’d like. I’m going to play some music and-”

“-I’d much rather stay with you.”

[fullofbees]

1 John 2:16

Mammon insists on you entertaining him when he's bored, so you make sure it's a night his skin will never forget.

CW: Smut, Domme!Reader, Sub!Mammon, Masochist Mammon, Impact Play (Riding Crop), Mild Cock-and-Ball Torture, Handjobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Vibrators, Prostate Milking

Word Count: 3, 528

»»----------► Reader is Gender Neutral

Mammon bursts through the door to your bedroom, the force causing the door to smack loudly as it swings into the wall. His sudden presence startles you, muscles tensing as you clutch the newest TSL manga to your chest. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, can’t you knock?!”

He ignores your question, collapsing onto your bed. Lying on his back, he sprawls out, legs dangling off the side of the bed. 

“I’m so boooored. Everyone in this house is borin’!”

You sigh, placing a bookmark between the pages, knowing Levi would kill you for dog-earing his precious manga. “I suppose you want me to entertain you?”

“Of course! A human like you should feel honored at the chance to entertain the Great Mammon,” he boasts, turning on his side to face you. His familiar smile teases you, daring you to take the bait and play.

Setting the manga on your nightstand, your eyebrow raises as you try to figure out his intentions. Sure, Mammon could truly be bored and just wants your company. He could also be trying to lure you into another money-making scheme. You must tread carefully, as you don’t want to end your evening being scolded by Lucifer. 

“And just how am I supposed to entertain you?”

He shrugs, fingers drumming along your comforter, “I hadn’t thought that far ahead…”

You chuckle, leaning forward to ruffle his hair, “You never do.”

He hums contentedly as his head angles towards your hand. Gently, you continue to run your fingers through his hair, nails gliding across his scalp. 

In the privacy of your room, Mammon doesn’t reject your affection. When not having to worry about his brother’s teasing, his tsundere act quickly disappears. It used to irritate you to no end, constantly making you question how he actually felt toward you. It seems so obvious now. 

You don’t really mind sharing the majority of your sentiment privately, much to Asmodeus’s exhibitionist chagrin. There are just some parts of yourself you only feel comfortable sharing one-on-one. Each brother seems to draw out a different side when you’re alone with them. Mammon certainly draws out a more doting and nurturing side of you; a side the greedy demon probably wants to keep all for himself. Truthfully though, you want to keep it just for him too. Taking care of him just comes naturally.

“How about a card game?” You ask.

“But games are borin’ without stakes,” he grumbles.

“Then why don’t we bet?” 

Mammon’s eyes light up as he hurriedly sits upright, “Hell yeah! Now you’re speakin’ my kinda language!” His expression falters then. “I don’t have any Grimm though…”

Returning to your nightstand, you open its drawer and retrieve a pack of plain playing cards. “That’s okay, I don’t want to bet Grimm anyways.” You open the pack, dumping the cards into your hand. “What would you like if you win, Mammon?”

As you begin shuffling, Mammon grows silent as he internally debates. By the time he speaks up, you’ve already dealt seven cards to both of you, leaving the rest stacked in the middle.

“Next week I have a modelin’ shoot, and you’re comin’ with me! Then we’ll get dinner and go on a walk through town…” 

“Like on a date?” 

Mammon pauses, heat rushing to his cheeks, “Yeah… when I win, we’re going on a date.”

You smile, biting your lip as you resist the urge to fling yourself into his arms and gush about how cute he is. Mammon smiles to himself as he picks up the cards and begins to rearrange them. Winning your attention by any means was ultimately more satisfying than just asking. Earning dates made him feel like he truly deserved you.

“Well, when I win, I get to do anything I want to you,” you state matter-of-factly. 

The cards fumble in his hands, “What does that mean!?”

Giggling, you pick up your own cards, “Throw the game and find out.”

… 

This was the most intense game of Uno you have ever experienced. You were down to your last card, one move away from winning. Mammon holds a green five and a wild card. You had gone back and forth with green for the last few cards, so there is a possibility your last card could be green too. In that case, Mammon could play the wild card and change the color, but what if you have been bluffing, and he picks the color you need?

He is fidgeting, repeatedly wiping his hands on his jeans to remove the sweat, running his hands through his hair, and twisting the rings on his fingers. You, however, were amused as you watched his struggle. 

Underneath his strategizing thoughts, two feelings warred inside Mammon; his insatiable greed that demanded he claim victory versus the temptation of finding out what you wanted to do to him. What were you hiding? What could you not ask him outright? His body felt hot under your gaze, the battle between two demon instincts driving him toward absolute delirium. Each successful round only adds fuel to the fire. 

“Mammon, baby, it’s your turn still,” You remind, purposely lowering your voice into a gentle timbre. 

The soft cadence short-circuits his brain. Memories of that voice begin flooding his mind. You, calming him down after fights with Lucifer. Asking him if he’s eaten, if he's been sleeping alright, does he need help with homework. Your mouth pressed against his ear, whispering praises as your hand pumps his cock-

“I… uh,” he swallows thickly, haphazardly placing his wild card on the pile, “Red.”

Eyes shift between the card in your hand and Mammon’s flushed face. You watch as Mammon continues to shift restlessly. Countless sexual fantasies flash through his mind, each one more tempting than the last. They all end the same, though; he eagerly allows you to use him. He accepts each slap, hit, and bite with glee. You make him hurt in all the ways he likes. 

“You didn’t say Uno.” 

The sentence barely registers in his mind. He only has himself to blame, really, for getting so wound up over your voice. He wants to laugh at his pathetic state, because how else would you describe a demon who becomes aroused at a voice? No laughter escapes him though, he’s afraid of the sound he’ll make if he tries. 

“You have to pick up two cards if you don’t call Uno.”

“Right…” He mumbles.

His hand shakes as he reaches for the stack of cards, sliding two from the top into his hand. He feels depraved for the heat swimming under his skin, desperately trying to cool down by tugging the neckline of his shirt forward. 

You are not oblivious to his discomfort. Mammon’s poker face is incredible, an obvious trait one would expect the Avatar of Greed to have. However, he’s done little to conceal the hard-on tenting his jeans. 

There is plenty more coming his way, so you set your final card down - a red eight.

Mammon gently sets his cards down on the bed, accepting defeat. He didn’t like losing, downright despised it in fact, but his desires have never made him act right. 

You have never made him act right. 

Gathering up the cards, you file them back into a neat stack and tuck them back into the box. After dropping the cards back into the nightstand, you scoot down your mattress until you're sitting in front of Mammon. He refuses to meet your gaze, trying to keep what little self-control he has.

“You know, I was going to cash in my victory this weekend,” you whisper, placing your hands against his abdominals. You slowly trail your right hand down, pulling it away before it reaches his crotch. Mammon whines at your teasing, then he hisses as your hand finally meets his clothed cock, squeezing as hard as you can manage.

“But it looks like you can’t wait, can you baby?” You taunt with a small chuckle. When he doesn’t answer, your left-hand travels up to his nipple, giving it a harsh tug.

“Ungh! Treasure, please!” Mammon cries.

“I don’t know who that is,” You warn with another twist to his nipple, “What’s my name?”

Between labored puffs of breath, he manages to stammer out, “Y-Your Majesty…”

Mammon collapses into you when your hands abandon his body. Resting his head on your shoulder, his hands come to fiercely cling to your waist. You grant him a few moments to catch his breath, running your knuckles along his spine as you coo, “Good boy,” to him.

Once he seems to be a little more stable, you push him, by his shoulders, away from your body. “What’s your color, babe?”

“Green,” he rushes out, “Please, give me more?” 

You smile and kiss him on his precious forehead before standing up, “Go ahead and strip for me. Everything.”

As you start to remove your pants, Mammon rises from the bed and begins to remove his shirt. You pause, watching with rapture how his body moves.

Like his brothers, Mammon seldom talks about his former life as an angel. He’s been in the Devildom for centuries now, but traces of his ophanim status still linger. He is slow and graceful, lithe muscle flexing as he brings the shirt over his head. Between his tantalizing tapered waist and well-defined chest, he is no less than statuesque. Though his hair is white like fresh-fallen snow, Mammon’s skin is an empyrean sienna; it’s as if their Father carved him from the Earth himself, intending to make a breathtaking reflection of the human world. 

For you, he is your home made tangible. You make a mental note to tell him so later.

Forcing yourself back on track, you quickly remove your shirt, tossing it onto the growing pile of laundry. Your pants and underwear come off together in one swift movement, bra soon following. 

You find Mammon patiently waiting before you, hands behind his back as you’ve instructed many times before. He is looking at the floor, but you can tell he’s blushing by the red glow that spreads down his chest and up to his ears. Though he may be feeling demure, his cock stands proud against his stomach, the swollen tip already shiny with his pre-cum. He’s too damn adorable.

Grabbing the edge of the bed’s comforter, you fold it in half horizontally, clearing the half of the mattress you intend to use. Taking hold of the pillow next, you drag it halfway down from its original spot. It too is folded in half after a thorough fluffing.  

“Okay sweetheart, I want you to lie face down with your hips on the pillow.” 

You hold the pillow steady as Mammon takes his place. With one knee propped on the mattress, he carefully balances his body the rest of the way. Once his chest meets the fabric of the sheets, he stretches himself out, hips wiggling as he gets comfortable. He crosses his arms in front of him, resting his face in the crook of his elbow. 

The pillow creates the effect you want; Mammon’s back deliciously bowed with his ass on full display. You nearly jump and squeal, positively hysterical over how helpless he looks. Still, you reign in the butterflies in your stomach, knowing a break in your composure could frighten him out of the scene. 

Instead, you tousle his hair, combing through the locks with your nails. Mammon practically purrs.

“Such a good boy for me. Looking so pretty for me too, you are just darling like this,” you coo, dragging your nails gently down his back. 

Mammon visibly melts further into his position, relaxing under your touch. 

“I’m going to make you feel good, would you like that baby?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he whines.

Hiding under your bed is a plastic container, filled with not-so-random gifts from Asmodeus. Using your foot, you pull the container into the light. Various toys, ropes, lubes, creams, and furry accouterments greet you. Bending down, you grab the one toy that has captivated your dreams since you saw it; a black leather riding crop.

You test the crop’s movement in your right hand, getting used to its bouncing feel. Once satisfied, you rest your other hand on Mammon’s back, steadying both of you at the same time. 

His muscles tense when you first drag the crop’s leather tongue delicately across the back of his thigh. You chuckle quietly.

“You already know what this is, don’t you?” You ask, running the crop up his other thigh. Before he even has a chance to reply, you pull the crop back to deliver a mild slap to his skin.

Though you imagine the hit wasn’t painful, he is a demon after all, Mammon still twitches. Perhaps the mere anticipation is getting to him. 

“It’s a c-crop, Your Majesty.”

“Good boy, you are correct. Remember your safe word?” 

Mammon grumbles, “Philanthropy.”

You giggle, remember how you teased him about the safeword needing to be ‘something he never usually thought about.’

Raising the crop again, you meet his flesh with a harsher slap. The ‘ smack ’ seems to echo in your ears, followed by Mammon’s guttural groan. You deliver another hit, this time to the center of his right cheek. His head drops to the mattress, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Another, please…” He whimpers.

“Such a little pain slut,” you tsk , treating the second cheek to the same treatment. 

Mammon hisses, though you swear it sounds like him saying, “Yessssssssss…”

A smack to where his ass and thigh meet. “The Great and Powerful Mammon reduced to a mumbling mess, how piteous.”

His hips jerk against the pillow. Curious, you glance between his legs, finding his cock practically dripping his arousal. You’ll need to buy a new pillow case; that fact earns him another snap of the crop.

A wicked idea pops into your mind. 

Biting your lip, you begin running the crop’s tongue up and down the length of Mammon’s cock. On instinct, his thighs press together, hips canting up as if to move away from the sensation. You don’t remember giving him permission to move.

The hand on his back now weaves into his hair, yanking his head back so you can look at him, causing the demon to yelp. Tears run down his face and his lower lip is starting to bruise from him gnawing on it.

“Spread. Your. Legs.” You growl through gritted teeth. 

You watch as Mammon winces, forcing his trembling thighs back apart. You crack the crop on the small of his back, his hips jutting forward from the pain. 

“Now stay, like a good dog.” You let his head drop harshly back to the mattress.

He turns his face back into the sheets, hiding his embarrassment at having his title demoted. Your fingers flex around the crop’s handle, readjusting your grip. You pause for a few moments, not wanting your precious demon to be able to predict the hit. 

Tempering the strength you’ve been using, a quick flick of the wrist still produces a stinging swat to his testicles. Despite Mammon’s choked shriek, his cock twitches, another bead of pre-cum oozing from the tip. You press your thighs together, the sight making heat run to your throbbing clit. He’s so fucking hot .

Sliding the crop down the silken skin again, you give another sharp slap to his tip. His blubbering sobs are muffled against the mattress. Incomplete rectangular bruises have started to form, dotting his flesh like stars. Perhaps he’s had enough.

You bend back down to the container, swapping out the crop for lube and a smaller vibrator. Tired of standing, you sit next to Mammon’s knees, setting the items down in front of you. Leaning forward, you press gentle kisses to the forming marks while your thumb massages soothing circles in his thigh. 

“You did so good, baby. I want to give you a reward. Are you okay with that?” 

Lifting his head, Mammon sniffles before nodding, “I can handle it, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad, ‘cause you deserve it.” You grab the lube, popping open the cap and pouring a generous amount on your fingers, “Just relax and let me take care of my good boy.”

A single finger circles his hole, warming up the fluid that coats it. Every so often you teasingly dip your finger in, pushing further with each pass. His moan is low and slow as you sink the digit in, his bodily greedily taking you in until the last knuckle. You want to laugh; is there any part of him that isn’t greedy?

You slowly pump your finger in and out, the faint sticky wetness of the lube ringing in your ears. Soft huffs tumble past Mammon’s lips as he pushes his hips back into your touch. Both of you fall into a rhythm, working him closer to the edge. 

Soon you add a second finger, switching to scissoring them back and forth to open him up for your other new toy. The anal vibrator is nothing fancy, merely a thinner model covered in sleek black silicone. The base is larger and curved, meant to settle comfortably against the user, and equipped with a power button. 

Mammon’s moans crescendo as you curl your fingers inside him, stroking his prostate. His hips raise, desperate to keep your finger in place as he rocks against them, chasing his completion. It’s nice to see him like this, hopelessly fucking himself against you, not a care in his mind besides the twitching of his balls as he nears release. 

You retract from him immediately, watching with amusement how his body tenses in frustration. His hips drop back to the pillow, with whines and whimpers soon following. His hands fist his hair, indignantly pulling at the strands as if he might rip them out. 

You let him stay like that for a minute, impatient in his ruined orgasm, yet knowing he better stay quiet lest he gets to orgasm at all. He takes deep breaths, calming himself down while the pleasure he was experiencing ebbs away. While waiting, you prepare the vibrator, coating the silicone in lube. 

When he seems to have settled, you press the tip of the toy into his hole, the flesh easily giving way. The vibrator slips in without resistance, Mammon contentedly sighing at the feeling of being filled again. Truly a needy and greedy thing.

His toes curl against the sheets when you turn the vibrator on, a soft humming filling the silence as the steady onslaught of oscillation courses through him.   

“Is that better, baby?” You tease.

“Aaugh... So good! Fuck!” He gasps out. 

Hand still coated in lube, you wrap your fingers around his shaft, stroking the silky skin. You gradually work Mammon back up to his peak; breath shuddering, thighs flexing, and hips jerking with each jolt of the vibrator against his prostate.  

Mammon murmurs something unintelligible, though he repeats himself before you have the chance to ask him to do so. 

“Pleaseletmecumthistime! ” He wails, loud enough that you’re sure the house shook. You hope Lucifer isn’t home, but the buzz from both of your D.D.D.s lets you know about the awkward group chat you’ll have after this.

Pushing that dread aside, you bring your free hand to the tip of Mammon’s cock, the pads of your fingers sweeping brutally fast circles around the head. 

“You want to cum?”

“Yesyesyesyes, pleASE… d-don’t stop!”

“Then cum.”

The demon convulses before you, his body a trembling, shuddering mess. You continue to stroke him through his orgasm, each downward movement causing a new spurt of cum to flow out. His spend pools onto your fingers and into your palm, the excess slipping through the gaps and falling to your sheets. 

The room is silent save for the faint buzzing of the vibrator and Mammon’s heaving gasps for air. You quickly tap the power button on the toy, finally letting his body have reprieve. You wait for his instruction before you dare make a move.

…

The sheets are replaced. Lucifer’s constant texts have been silenced. You and Mammon have washed up and the demon now lies amongst your blankets and stuffed animals, patiently waiting as you put on a pair of pajamas.

When you climb into bed next to him, Mammon quickly lies his head on your chest, nestling his face between your breasts. You pull the covers over him, happy to succumb to the cocoon of warmth.

“How are you feeling, baby?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.

“‘M good,” he sighs, “But ’m confused?”

You pause your movement as he looks up at you.

“Why did ya make me draw two if ya were just gonna win?”

“Are you serious, Mammon?”

…

A week later you again pull the crop from underneath your bed. After hearing about your rousing success, Asmodeus wanted to know the brand (claiming he forgot after he purchased it for you). A tag hangs from the handle. Steadying it between your fingers, you begin looking for a brand name. 

A special crop made just for demons! Magically enhanced; even the toughest lovers can feel your wrath ;)

Oops. 

•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Submit A Request | Read on AO3 •••✦ ❤ ✦•••

[kafus]

for the artist ask game i picked two Q’s:

6. Favorite and least favorite angles/perspectives to draw?

20. What motivates/inspires you artistically? (topics, emotions, etc)

love your art especially of the funky little horizons lesbians, and i hope you had an awesome time at the con!

ouagh thank you the con was good 😭 i still need to make some posts about it...

6. Favorite and least favorite angles/perspectives to draw?

asks that remind me that i need to experiment more with perspective and actually putting my characters in tangible space again because i wanna branch into comics... but anyway

i still struggle with side view on my character art a lot asjfdosa doesn't stop me from doing it but i have to slow down and really think about it and often when i send my work to friends for critique, they point out something wrong with the jawline and i have to fix it LOL, i could definitely stand to do more side view studies at some point and get more comfortable with it (i also tend to struggle with things where the head is tilted up enough that you can see the underside of the chin, i don't have to draw anything like that often but that too...)

on the other hand i am 3/4 view's strongest soldier to the point that sometimes my front facing characters look lopsided on accident because of the 3/4 muscle memory and i have to go in and adjust them after the fact lmao. but i think that's a pretty common problem to have

20. What motivates/inspires you artistically? (topics, emotions, etc)

probably obvious considering the laser focus tunnel vision i've had on likodot with my art lately but. it's shipping art. but like seriously it's like exploring human connection and love through art for me, and being able to see how other people explore that same topic. it is probably more important and complex for me than it appears on the surface. like yeah likodot cute and i want to see their faces smashed together in a kiss on the lips but also as a very traumatized person i am so fascinated by the idea of a healthy and loving relationship, i am so fascinated by being able to safely explore romance as a young person, and i am so fascinated by the idea of safe physical affection - which is why affection gets such a strong focus in my art lately lol.

it also turns out that i enjoy fandom spaces and the community found through it and that's really motivating and inspiring too. i love coming together with other people over shared love of a thing and making art about it together. like hell yeah dude nothing more powerful than human connection at the end of the day

[kate-les-bridge-stewart]

I've been having many thoughts about missy and spy!master because of the panels Michelle and Sacha have been doing together so here's some of those for you hehe

As per Michelle and Sacha's opinions on their dynamic together, the sexual energy between the 2 would be off the fucking charts, perhaps even stronger than it was with simm and missy 😳

I just think missy would find dhawan more physically attractive than simm (No offense to John simm of course lol, all 3 of them are GORGEOUS)

Like despite dhawan being debatably more unhinged than simm, something about his overall look in most of his appearances just feels more neat and well groomed than simm

Like dhawans facial hair (excluding the Rasputin thing) was always very well groomed and cleanly trimmed. Meanwhile all of simms appearances always made his hair look at least a little disheveled, especially his goatee

Another thing I think missy would like is dhawans eyes. I'm not sure if the casting director had this in mind when they picked sacha but his eyes lend themselves so well to the masters cunning and manipulative abilities. His eyes are so big and expressive, he can manipulate them to look so soft and genuine and kind. Yet in the blink of an eye he can go from an angel you'd trust with your life to shedding his sheep's clothing to reveal a rabid wolf underneath

Him and missy are a perfect match in that regard since missy also has some stunning eyes herself.

Dhawans eyes are round and large with deep brown irises which lull you into a false sense of trust. Missy's eyes however hypnotize not with trustworthiness but with stunning beauty. They're polar opposites to Dhawan's eyes, being slim and almond shaped and a stark icy blue that snatches your attention and holds it in an iron grip. Her irises are so pale they almost blend into the whites of her eyes and in combination with her overall facial structure give her this ethereal, otherworldly feel. Like a mysterious spirit that claims to be an angel.

Speaking of facial structure, (I guess this is just gonna be a body worship post from me LMAO) dhawans face also lends itself well to his deceptively trustworthy appearance. His face shape is round and his cheeks are full making his face look softer and more approachable. In fact there are few sharp edges in any of his facial features to begin with. His nose is very round and his chin has basically no edges. His eyebrows are thick and dark with the edges of their shape blending into his skin, thus with no defined lines his eyebrows look softer.

Another thing I noticed about his facial hair, it's dark color and well defined edges actually create some symbolic imagry. Think about it, the fine contrast between his beard and the rest of his face almost looks like a mask. Just like how he was wearing the character of O like a mask! Idk I just thought that was a cool idea hehe

Missy's face completely opposes this. She's ALL sharp edges. Her eyebrows? Sharp as needles. Hell their angles form this angry V shape which of course makes her look inherently angry or hostile. Her nose? Straight and narrow. Her jaw? Things built like a fucking cleaver. And don't even get me started on her cheekbones, those things could slice through GRANITE. Even her fucking cupids bow is like 2 razor blades. Her skin (mainly her cheeks) is pulled tight to her skull which causes her to look as deadly as she is. Going back to her eyes, her irises look smaller than Sacha's, they could actually be physically smaller or it could be an optical illusion from how pale her eyes are. Either way her irises looking smaller gives her a wild look and draws far more attention to her pupils.

I could go on but I feel like I've obsessed over these people's faces enough lol

[wibble-wobbegong]

i am SO fucking excited to see how will works with the rest of the og party when he’s able to be an active participant in the planning when they’re all together

we’ve had the lucas-dustin-mike trio, we’ve had the mike-lucas-will BUT. consider something for me, regarding the severe lack of will-dustin dynamic

mike is obviously our leader, but his ability to communicate his plans and knowledge to people is somewhat limited because he struggles to communicate in general. when he’s trying to explain how the hivemind works in season 2, nobody understands what the hell he’s talking about and he can’t figure out how to explain it in a way they understand. in season 1, the same thing happens a few times and in season 3 mike can’t actually communicate what he means when he says “no, we don’t win”

in season 2, the way mike’s knowledge gets across to others is through dustin!!! he takes what mike is saying and draws it to DND, which even though the non-party members may not understand directly, he can use it to explain what the hivemind is much more easily. dustin constantly draws parallels to DND in order to explain the insanity if the UD to other people

in season 3, will is the one communicating what mike is trying to say using visuals!! he makes that drawing of the mind flayer and transfers the dust in order to actually explain why they can’t win by burning it out of billy. he’s constantly creating in order to explain exactly how stuff works, because he isn’t great with words but he is good at using visuals and those can be just as effective

the situation they’re currently in is the most complex, multi-faceted and detail oriented problem they’ve ever faced. there’s dozens of angles and small things that have to be considered when they start making plans to go after henry and destroying/closing off the UD. so, here’s my proposition;

i think it would be SO fucking cool to watch mike, dustin, and will bounce off of each other to create a plan everybody can understand. mike takes all the details and puts then together into a viable plan, dustin is able to take what mike is saying and create digestible metaphors and analogies, and will can take a DND board and make an actual visual of the plan alongside other things because he also knows what dustin is talking about with his metaphors (DND lovers to the max). these three also each have deep understandings of things necessary to the function of the UD!!!

there’s a lot to consider, but when it comes to how the UD itself works, the people with the best understanding are mike, who’s general brains easily picks up on the smallest details and puts the puzzle together; dustin, who has a deeper understanding of the actual science than any other main character; and will. who is will.

obviously other characters are important and are necessary to make a full picture including lucas, el, nancy, hopper, and joyce, but none of them have been successful or have developed an actual understanding the same way these three have. they have the information, but the application of it often falls short. but if we were to get a dustin-mike-will moment??? the BEST trio to make a plan and put it into action, with the input of others

i really really hope we get to see them working together. if the tie up at the end if the season is always good, i think a scene of these three taking everything and laying it out would be so fucking good. plus, more will-dustin moments

[halfbakedspuds]

Thanks so much to @honeybewrites for the tag!

Find the word tag

My words are: Bold, Fire, Survivor, Chase

TW: burning alive, stabbing

Bold: (From The Tempest Prince book 3)

"Statement: That was a bold move, Haliday" the Archmagos turned to me with her signature clockwork stutteriness, two hollow pits staring through me out of her porcelain face, "Standing up to the Inquisitor-General like that,"

I grunted, not bothering to look up from the glyph I was drawing, "Are you really going to stand there and tell me that you wouldn't have done the same thing if not for politics? You of all people?"

A whirr emanated from her voicebox, the closest she could manage to a laugh with her body. I caught her picking up a page from the pile, scanning over my work, "Amused: I said that it was bold, not that I disapprove. Annoyed, indirect: Where I stand on the matter is that that bigoted einhusfilfr has been in power for far too long. It's about time someone stood up to him,"

She was silent for another moment, a few soft clicks whirred inside her body as its life support did its job. For a moment as the greatest Magos in Allyrian history turned my work about to look at it from different angles. Finally, giving up, she slid it over to me.

"Confused, Concerned: Child, what the hell were you doing here?"

I only spared a moment's glance at the page she held before redirecting my attention to the glyph I was seeing into the page beneath my hands, "Redirecting the output from AH-11 through a Gaussian cycler and into the arcana null with a resistance path to the arcana-thermal cross-converter," I shrugged at the somehow blanker than usual look she gave me, "Remember your old buddy Nikola Tesla? This is effectively the arcane version of his coils. I'm using it to build up some backing-power before firing. Might be a hell of a lot slower but contextually I feel like trading speed for force is worth more to this design,"

"Impressed: That is... genius, actually," The Archmagos said in a warm monotone, "A bold solution by a bold individual,"

Fire: (From Echoes of Shadows)

TW: Burning alive, stabbing.

"Johan!" Sasha cried out, her voice fraught with panic.

Hold on! Spirits, just hold on for a few more seconds!

"Nyet! Get the fuck off of me! Idi nahui, ty suka!" She called out again.

Johan was practically dancing around the things now, ignoring them just to get to Sasha and help her.

A sudden sharp pain in his side tore a cry of anguish from him. Through hazy, swimming vision, he looked down to spot a dagger in his side, gauntleted fingers still wrapped around its pommel. He fought to look up into the crow's mask of the cultist before him...

...and watched their lenses crack as the ambient temperature suddenly fell to that of the Rostovan heartlands.

He heard an uncharacteristically feral growl come from Sasha, and quickly whipped his head around, just in time to watch her put her hands to the face of the cultist who had been harassing her.

"You want me so badly? Fine then, I'll drag you down to the hells with me!" She screamed into their face.

A moment passed, then they began to spasm and thrash, clawing at her hands and drawing long, crimson streaks of crimson from her skin as they fought her grip. The only other indicator of their struggle were muffled cries for help and of unknowable pain, and a steady red glow beginning to shine through their leather mask.

She slowly turned towards the rest, who had all gone still with fear. Johan was fairly certain he could smell urine from the one closest to him, but that could've also been the sewer water. Not that he would've blamed them, though, and besides, he had a knife in him.

There was a sudden, horrible crack as the glass of her assailant-turned-victim's lenses burst outwards, and two plumes of white-hot fire spewed forth like geysers from their eyes. After a moment, it subsided, and the cultist's limp form splashed into the sewer, leaving billowing steam where they lay among the filth.

"You hear me, fuckers?!" She cried with a crazed laugh behind her words, her hands out to her sides and engulfed in blue-hot flames, "I'll kill every last one of you!"

Survivor: (From Children of the Stars)

"Perhaps that's why the two of you seem drawn to each other," another one of the machines answered, this one working a console of some kind. Lyanni was starting to lose track of all the places that Apollyon's voice emitted from.

"How so...Admiral?" She rushed to correct herself.

A chorus of barking laughter erupted from the androids around her, and when the new machine spoke, it was the one in the navigator's chair, "My girl, I've wandered the universe for two centuries, you don't have to play the fool with me. You're both survivors, you both carry unknowable pains and have committed unspeakable acts all in the name of one more day," Lyanni started as an Android put its hand on her shoulder, coming around to stand before her, "You who survived a genocide, and Adam alone knows what he's been through,"

The Android gave Lyanni's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "If you'll permit me to share some insight from one non-human to another?"

Lyanni felt her hearts in her throat. Why was this... inorganic thing so gods-damned terrifying.

She swallowed, "If you'd do me the honour, Admiral,"

The interlocking plates of the android's face, a facsimile of a human's, shifted into a tooth-baring smile, "The Callistoans aren't an easy group of humans to read- believe me, I know what it's like- but they respect skill and grit, and purely from how much he relies on you (don't give me that look, surely you've noticed)- I'd say you've earned his respect. Hell, if I didn't know better I would've said you've gotten the great Adrian Castellan to like you, little miss Sverik,"

Chase: (surprisingly, throughout three active WIP's, I haven't used this word even once)

No pressure tags for @illarian-rambling, @pb-dot and anyone else who wants in

[vaingloury]

Disparate Thoughts on Dungeon Meshi

I'm an anime-only watcher, so no spoilers beyond what's currently aired (eps 1-3) + mild map spoilers for a random 3.5e D&D module (Sunless Citadel).

- I'm not the first nor will I be the last to harp on the English localised title but Delicious in Dungeon sucks. I do, however, think going with the "DnD" naming scheme was a nugget of a good idea (let's face it, "Dungeon Food" sucks too). Maybe "Diners in Dungeon"/"Dungeons & Diners" instead (as in those who dine, not a place where one dines). Or "Dungeon Dine" (like "dungeon dive"). Regardless, I'll just be calling it Dungeon Meshi going forward.

- I don't know if this is coloured by me going into this series with the knowledge that Ryoko Kui loves Baldur's Gate 1 and 2 or a wider ripple effect of eastern dungeon-fantasy conventions being shaped by there not being an official Japanese translation of D&D between Basic and 5e, but the world-building's vibe is old-school D&D as hell. It feels like it was written by someone who maybe never got the chance to play the tabletop game much but spent hours poring over the 1e Monster Manual in hopes of getting a campaign off the ground (and ended up penning a manga instead, game scheduling be damned). There's the disarming of traps, feeling for secret doors, and even the iconic red dragon as seen on the covers of the Basic Dungeon Master's Handbook and 1e Monster Manual being the dungeon boss. Design-wise, the dungeon's layout it reminds me a bit of the map from Ruins of Castle Greyhawk or The Sunless Citadel (pictured below, right).

- The main cast is very tropey at the moment. Quite literally all the Basic classes are covered; the generic white man Fighter (Lv 1, no multi-attack yet :P) as the party face, the halfling/thief, the elf/wizard, the missing cleric, the dwarf... This works for this point in the narrative but doesn't make me particularly attached to any of them. They need another overarching obstacle.

- I generally don't like Studio Trigger's output (not the Imaishi-involved stuff anyway; Gridman fucks) but I respect how bouncy their animation usually is. So, I was excited to watch something animated by Trigger but not (originally) written by them. Dungeon Meshi, however, looks static and resorts too often to Dutch angles to maintain visual interest. There's a bit of an art shift in episode 3 where this improves; more fun "off-model" moments, the movements get a little bouncier, more color harmony. Hopefully, this stays and isn't just a guest director fluke. Form the snippets I've seen on the manga, Kui suffers a bit from "draw background killed my grandma", thus her ability to make her simple character designs emote well has to carry the page. The anime does the opposite; super detailed backgrounds but flat shading/lack of texture on the characters creates a need for them to over-emote with a "screen-shake" effect in order to stand out from their surroundings, which I could see getting old fast. The main event, the food, looks better in the anime than in the manga due to colour and animation bringing it to life.

- I don't usually laugh at Japanese comedies because they're either too slapstick for my tastes or too pun heavy for my JP comprehension level. Dungeon Meshi gets a point for making me "lol" more than once.

- Finally, a good panty shot:

- I watched episode 3 dubbed. EN Marcille > JP Marcille (I say this as a stickler for subs). The rest of the dub cast is fine but I'm probably sticking with JP because JP Laios' ability to scream > EN Laios (EN is a great generic white man, though). I'm not familiar with most of the JP voice cast. I think Chilchuck is my fave in JP.

Both languages have little breathing room between lines of dialog and I was hoping the EN dub would play around with the fact that the character speaking isn't necessarily the one on screen (thus less lip-flap matching, especially for Senshi, who has few indicators that he's actually speaking even when he's onscreen) but alas. I'll do another one of these if I have more to say later in the season 🥂

[capn-twitchery]

art ask game :D!

1.When did you start creating art? 6.Favorite and least favorite angles/perspectives to draw?

1. When did you start creating art?

i know this is cliche as hell but as soon as i could draw, i did draw--i wanted to be an animator since i was super young!! (i maybe don't anymore actually but that is a story for another day)

since that's not very interesting tho, a funner fact is i didn't start drawing human characters til about 10 years ago. i drew nothing but animals til i was like 14. less fun fact is i was too stubborn to use references and i am unlearning 1000 bad habits from the last 20 something years. help

6. Favorite and least favorite angles/perspectives to draw?

answered here, but i realised i only answered "least favourite" oops so i'll answer the other half here: you can't beat the 3/4 facing left eye level. it's a Classic for a reason!! i'm also starting to like drawing in profile more, but it's still kind of a struggle

Artist Ask Game

[ask-team-misfit]

[ previous ]

Even upon getting there, he seemed hesitant to elaborate, instead being preoccupied with showing Pikavee around.

Lief: “So, uh. What do you think? This is the outside of my burrow.”

Pikavee wiped her eyes and glanced around. It was a small clearing dotted with flowers; a tiny meadow barely large enough for her to really lie down.

Pikavee: “It’s… nice.”

Lief: “Yeah. Should be about enough room for you to sleep out here.”

Walking up to the wooden cover of the burrow entrance, he tapped at it with his foot.

Lief: “I live right down here, in this cozy little hole. Of course it’s a bit of a mess right now, but uh…”

He trailed off, as if trying to think of something else to say to fill the dead air. His eyes darted anywhere but her face.

He was quick to pluck a berry from a nearby berry bush as soon as he noticed it.

Lief: “Oh and, food. There’s plenty of berries here and… stuff.”

[ ID: A grayscale bust drawing of Lief slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. He looks shocked, or fearful. A couple of sweat drops are present on his face. His smile, resembling the “:3” emoticon, looks forced. Lief’s appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Lief: “Y-you don’t eat much, do you?”

Pikavee: “Um. It's… it’s fine.”

Any sort of enthusiasm he may have had, fake or not, began to vanish. He had even more trouble looking at her directly.

Lief: “You hate it here that much, do you… now I’ve done it.”

She didn't answer for a long while. She looked away with a murmur.

Pikavee: “I-it's… not really that…”

Lief: “Then what is it?”

Pikavee: “Why do you owe me an apology?”

Once again, he paused.

Pikavee: “Did you know, and didn’t tell me? O-or is it something e–”

Lief: “Alright already. I confess. I’m not good with this kinda stuff. How the hell do you expect me to be straight with you when you look at me like that?”

He wasn't looking at Pikavee anymore. He seemingly deflated, as his antennae and wings both drooped. More notably, his voice was a lot quieter.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He looks sad or concerned, appearing to have some troubling thoughts he's refusing to speak of. He's looking away to the right. End ID ]

Lief: “If anything, I was hoping to be wrong. Stuff goes around, I hear about it, but I don’t know everything. The Isle’s a big place. Honestly, that kid…”

At the thought of Fenninkou, he once again raised a paw to pinch his forehead.

Lief: “Ugh… I don’t know what I expected. You really didn’t need to see any of that, let alone know a damn thing about how townies feel about me. About us.”

Pikavee: “Wh-what do you mean?”

Lief: “You know how I said I don’t have the best reputation over there? Believe it or not, it’s not because I’m kind of a nuisance.”

He glanced at her for a moment, gauging her reaction.

She merely stared back, waiting for him to continue.

Lief: “Wait. You actually believe me?”

Pikavee nodded.

Lief blinked at her for another moment before scoffing.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He appears dismissive, glancing away towards the right with very narrow eyes. He's visibly flushed all over his face, with the blush shown in color. End ID ]

Lief: “Gods, you’re naive. No one else is that nice to me, you know.”

Pikavee: “I… know how that feels. But, kinda differently.”

Lief: “Enlighten me.”

Pikavee: “No one else I know has been nice to me, but I don’t really know anyone else but my human.”

Lief: “Huh.”

Some moments of silence followed.

Pikavee: “Did you… still wanna talk about it?”

Another pause, though only for a moment. He wasn’t even looking at her as he spoke up.

Lief: “It’s because I’m feral, Pikavee.”

Pikavee: “Huh?”

Lief: “Because I live out here, in the Wilds. Born and raised. It didn’t used to be that bad, but now? Townies look down on us like we’re just in the way. All because of that Treasure Hunting stuff.”

Pikavee didn’t look sure how to respond. She understood very little about the politics of this place; what Treasure Hunting even was. But that aside, it bothered her that Lief would be treated this way over his place of birth, of all things.

He continued before she could consider saying something, again with that bitter tone.

Lief: “They’re going to do that with you too, you know. And when you need them the most? Completely turn you away.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. His eyes are narrowed in an annoyed glare. His mouth is open, as if in the midst of a tangent. End ID ]

Lief: “So don’t think about helping them. Don’t even become attached.”

Pikavee: “A… a-are you sure?”

Lief sighed a little.

Lief: “Never been more sure. Like it not, you’re a feral, too. A misfit, just like me.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief similar to the previous image. He looks sad or concerned, appearing to have some troubling thoughts he's refusing to speak of. He's looking away to the right. End ID ]

Lief: “I know you don’t actually live here and all, don’t correct me. But where else could you possibly stay but here? With me…”

A lot of what Lief said still clearly bothered her, but she said nothing–she didn’t know what to retort with. She meekly rested her head against one of her forelegs, lying down to rest her throbbing head.

Lief: “If you ever wanted to in the first place, anyway. It’s the best I got, but if you have ideas, I’m all ears.”