#whats the harm in being nice to someone for no gain

[truthcakes]

I love the "mature content" filter that allows me to opt in to sexually charged posts. If I'm not in the mood, I keep on scrolling. If I do want to see it, now it's practically gift wrapped! How nice.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao

[avelera]

I’m curious, how much control do you think Viktor was in in season 2?

I have tried to analyze this but am honestly stumped. Because on one hand it is clearly his intentions and logic being used. Since the beginning he has been wanting to heal people afflicted in Zaun (while it was also to cure his illness I don’t doubt wanting to help those in need was a legitimate motivation). He does immediately go to heal people in Zaun and all the conclusions he jumps to through the season do seem perfectly reasonable for him. He was the type of person who didn’t even conceptualize in season one that something like the hexclaw could be used as a weapon. That and the hexcore showing that he was a pacifist to the point of it being a massive blind spot to danger. So it makes sense being shot by Jayce of all people while in his eyes he was healing people would cause him to go all glorious evolution mode as a natural progression of his arc.

On the other hand he definitely didn’t come back right. The show makes a point to show in season one that the hexcore has some level of physical control over him, and even when going to heal the shimmer addicts he is following Sky’s voice. The writers also confirmed that it indeed was not Sky and was the hexcore manifesting his guilt to push him towards to glorious evolution. And his emotions definitely seem to be muffled and unexpressive. I know this part is joked about a lot but honestly even the fact that he chokes Jayce is surprising because he is consistently characterized as a pacifist to the point of it being a fatal flaw. He doesn’t even commit an act of violence in a show filled with fight scenes until the second to last episode, let alone against Jayce of all people. I think the last thing season one Viktor would do is intentionally cause physical harm to someone, hence why it is only at the part where he is the farthest gone.

Basically if I had to guess I’d say it’s like 50/50 level of control, but you have written some great character analysis so I’m curious what your thoughts are as to how much of season two was Viktor and how much was the Hexcore

Honestly, Anon, I'm wrestling with this on almost a daily basis myself when I write fics. It's definitely not helped by the fact they avoided a lot of exposition in S2 in favor of pacing (the slower pace of S1 allowed for a lot more signposting and exposition of what was going on, I think somewhat to the detriment of S2) and the fact that we don't really get much of Viktor after he stops being the Machine Herald, because to my eyes that's the first time we see the real Viktor all season and it would be nice to get him to express some contrast with what came before (though of course it would ruin the pacing of a perfect moment).

I think you basically nailed all of the points of confusion. I've ever considered tracking all the points where his voice warps for clues, because I think there is something to be gleaned from how and when his voice distorts, but in what direction is also a curious question.

Was saying "affection" kept them together more or less than what Viktor would have said to Jayce? Would he on his own have said love? Or would he, in his infinite shyness, have not dared to mention emotion at all, because Viktor is an expert at pushing those closest to him away and hiding his own emotions? Was that the Hexcore trying to drag Jayce in closer by calling it affection, or push him away before it could gain strength by lowering Viktor saying "love" down to just saying "affection"?

On the other hand, during the Herald's villain monologue at the end in the Astral Plane, his voice is distorted for almost every line except, "This senseless waste," which does feel like a sincere Viktor line, perhaps the only one that is truly him that whole time, including when he said he was pleased to see Jayce, in that horrible mocking tone. Could that not be the Hexcore speaking there?

I'll offer what I think is happening:

In order to chart "What is Hexcore" vs. "What is Viktor" it's less useful to look at Viktor's motives than the Hexcore's.

The Hexore wanted to expand its influence. It wanted to become powerful enough to have its own army and to destroy the civilization around it as other versions of the Hexcore have done throughout history. I believe it reached those goals by posing them as things Viktor, on his own, would want to do like help the needy, thus hiding its ends inside of Viktor's motives.

Note too that people who have dosed up on Shimmer are more susceptible to its molding.

Hence we can assume that the Hexcore, in the guise of Sky, using Viktor's guilt about her and his own failures to help the undercity, guided Viktor down to the Shimmer victim encampment specifically.

Viktor is not a mystic. The most mystical thing he says in S1 is that the Arcane speaks through mages. But the Hexcore is a magical artifact. Something like the Hexcore also destroyed a civilization centuries ago, and the figure in Heimerdinger's memory looks like Viktor when he's cloaked.

So personally, I think we can ascribe any mysticism to the Hexcore's influence too. That means the Cult, for example. Also Viktor's, "You need not suffer anymore," and kind of making them all genuflect to him, feels very OOC and just plain wrong for Viktor.

Whereas Viktor in the Astral Plane feels like real Viktor. Even the fact that when we show his point of view out into the world he is himself in a field of stars, seeing the real world projected in front of him like Plato's Allegory of the Cave gives the impression of imprisonment, like he's looking out through the windows of his own eyes to a shrouded world he can no longer directly touch.

And note, for example, that Sky/the Hexcore doesn't want Viktor to heal Vander. That's all Viktor. I believe the reason is because it doesn't want to run out of energy too quickly.

Basically, I think the Hexcore is stringing Viktor along there as Sky, giving him a little terrarium of stars to play in, while using him as a vessel of assimilation under the guise of healing. These are on both sides, inner and outer, things that Viktor wants to do, so he's seduced. He doesn't fight it.

I also think at a certain point, the Hexcore Viktor gains enough power to be able to impact people who aren't dosed with Shimmer. I think this comes later though, which is why it's not interested in Jayce at first but it is interested in assimilating him later. At that point, again, those motives align with Viktor's own sincere desire to see Jayce again (maybe he's sick of all the hippies in the commune lol) and the Hexcore is happy to get rid of someone who could conceivably stop it.

But note, the Hexcore is still playing along with Viktor. It could forcibly assimilate Jayce, but Viktor wants Jayce to choose his side willingly, so it holds back. In part too because that disappointment is what fuels Viktor to give himself over the Hexcore's goals entirely and ask for Singed's treatment with Apex Shimmer. At that point, as the showrunner noted, it doesn't need the guise of Sky anymore, it doesn't need to string Viktor along anymore. He's bought into the idea of forcibly assimilating the world if he can't get Jayce to join willingly.

I also heard an interesting theory that I'd like to factor in: basically, until he gains access to the Anomaly, Viktor doesn't have the power to strip himself of the Hexcore's influence or overcome it. That's why there's no point in Jayce trying to get through to him sooner, it wouldn't do anything because Viktor would still be trapped in its web.

Once they have the Anomaly, Viktor as an ascended being can strip away the Hexcore's influence. And that's why I lamented that we don't get more of his thoughts in that scene. Because I think an interpretation can be made that the Machine Herald look is just the human form of the Hexcore, using Viktor as a vessel.

Once that outer shell explodes, it really is Viktor again, with all the power of the Anomaly and Jayce's rune at his disposal. Now he and Jayce can work together to reverse the damage, free all the trapped souls from the Hexcore's web, and save the day. But we see that only then Viktor is able to view his own actions as himself, and he's horrified. There I think we get Viktor's one true, sincere reaction to everything that has happened up to that point and confirm that, yes, while the Hexcore interwove its seduction through Viktor's motives, none of this is what Viktor wanted. The ultimate outcome was the Hexcore's goals.

Quick Doylist addition: I also think there's definitely a draft where it's all Viktor getting controlled, but the writers know that can be kind of boring. It's better when characters take action and make choices, rather than being controlled. So I think that's why they settled on a combination of "The Hexcore's end goals, but Viktor's underlying motivations being twisted to support them."

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part two)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one

» masterlist

Your footsteps fall in and out of rhythm with Zach’s as you walk over the soccer field.

Even under the inky night sky, you can easily make out the sharp white lines spray-painted on the pitch as he stands across from you, your back to the net.

As a center back, this is where you spend most of your time in a game, defending directly in front of the goal. You used to love the nerves you’d feel before a match, but by the final month of the school year, you’d start every game already waiting for it to end.

You hope you can fix that this summer. And Zach is the perfect person to practice against since his main objective in his position is scoring.

He picked up a soccer ball from a storage shed on the way over, tossing it in his hands. You wonder if he offers to help all the newbies work on their game or if it’s just you.

“I don’t know if you know this,” you say, “but the ball’s supposed to be on the ground.”

“Most people say thank you when someone does them a favor,” he jokes, dropping the ball and dribbling it between his feet.

“I think you need to actually do the favor first,” you reply.

Zach smirks. He’s always been the type to chase the feeling of fun, and right now, he enjoys how easy things are with you.

He kicks the ball to you, and you stop it under your foot.

“Don’t go easy on me,” you say. “I’m serious.”

Zach sighs with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… my sister says that to me all the time,” he says. The memory makes his chest pinch. This is the hardest part of being at camp for seven weeks. It’s only been one day and he misses his family already.

At least when he’s at college, he can visit whenever he wants, but at camp, it’s a no go.

“Does she play soccer, too?” you ask. The ball scruffs over the grass when you kick it back to him.

“No, Avery hates sports,” he says. “It’s when we play video games. She kicks my ass and she tells me to stop letting her win when I’m genuinely trying my hardest. It’s embarrassing.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten.”

You smile. It’s sweet that he spends time with his kid sister.

“And she beats you? That is embarrassing.”

He kicks the ball to you with a chuckle.

“So, she’s not interested in coming here?” you ask, considering Camp Summit is for kids in her age range.

“No chance,” he says. He asks about your family and you continue to chat about your home life while kicking the ball back and forth until you eventually decide to do what you came out here for.

“You ready?” he asks, heading backwards a few steps.

“Give me your worst.”

Zach jogs towards you, expertly kicking the ball with every stride, approaching you quickly. You keep your eyes trained on his movements and the ball, reading the opponent’s body like you always do.

You shift between your feet quickly, trying to gain possession. He side-steps and fakes right, but you notice it in the way he’s positioned, and you take the window of opportunity to steal the ball.

You succeed and rush past him, then turn to smile at him, locking the ball under your foot.

“Jeez,” Zach says, hands on his hips. “Nice one.”

“Stop,” you laugh, convinced he’s just trying to flatter you.

“How’d you catch my fake-out?”

“It’s all in your body language,” you say. You kick the ball to him.

“So, you’re looking at my body,” he says, his tone sarcastically suggestive.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you laugh, heading to where you were standing originally to reset.

“Too late.” He rushes back to the center of the field.

Your cheeks go warm. He wouldn’t risk dating at work. It’s against the rules. You could both lose your jobs.

But what’s the harm in flirting? He seems to like to do it with you just as much as you do it with him.

Zach jogs towards you again and you turn with him slightly, closing the distance once he comes close enough, mirroring him as he darts over the grass.

“It’s good that you don’t dive in right away,” he says between breaths. “I always get past defenders when they rush me.”

“Are you trying to distract me with flattery?” you ask.

“If it’s working, yeah,” he replies.

You laugh and continue to jockey, both of you moving with sharp, fast movements as he shuffles with the ball.

It’s a struggle, but eventually, he gets past you, sending the ball flying in the net.

“One-one,” he says. “You really made me work for it, though, huh?”

As you watch Zach run to grab the ball out of the net, you’re taken by how kind he is. Even after he gets a ball past you, he compliments you.

You refocus when he resets and jogs down the field towards you again. As the night goes on, you start to feel comfortable enough to make contact with each other, brushing arms and legs.

You stop keeping score, but it feels pretty equal by the time you’re huffing from all the exercise.

“You good to call it?” he asks, looking down at you as he pants after you steal the ball from him yet again.

“Yeah. I think that was more than ten minutes.”

His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he smiles. He completely forgot he was out here with you, under a time limit, all because he was waiting for his friend to escort yours out of his cabin.

“I noticed something you do,” he says as you walk off the field together, taking turns kicking the ball far ahead of you. “You kind of give up when you think you won’t win the ball.”

“Why waste the energy?” you respond with a tired laugh. You check your phone to see that it’s almost 10:30.

“My coach always tells us that you have to believe that you’ll win every tackle,” Zach says. “It seems like you tell yourself you might as well stop trying.”

You consider his words. It’s true. It’s a bad habit you’ve picked up in the past year, a result of your dwindling confidence. And he’s a sharp player for catching that weakness.

Zach watches you, afraid he might have offended you.

“I hope I didn’t - that wasn’t out of line, was it?”

“No, no,” you say. “You’re totally right. Thanks. It’s helpful.”

You reach the dirt path, approaching the storage shed. He puts the ball away and joins you again as you make your way towards the staff cabins in the humid night.

“Gotta be honest,” he says, thinking back to what you said by the fire, “I’m surprised you’re not confident in your game.”

“My team doesn’t do that well,” you admit. It feels like you’re constantly ruminating over last season’s win/loss ratio.

“And what, that’s your fault?” he asks.

“I am usually the last one the other team crosses before scoring,” you say with a shrug.

“Actually, the goalie is.”

“No, she’s great,” you reply. “It’s not on her.”

Zach snorts.

“What?”

“You don’t blame her, but you blame yourself,” he says. “Makes sense.”

You nudge his firm shoulder. The contact is brief and playful and you’re comfortable doing it now considering you got so close on the field.

Zach nudges you back, touching you as if he always does. As if you didn’t just meet today.

“You mad I’m right?” he says.

“A little,” you reply with a small smile.

You reach your cabins. The shirt on his door is gone. It seems like your cabin-mates are back to their respective beds.

“Yeah, I’m still knocking very loudly just in case,” Zach says.

“Good call,” you laugh, heading towards your cabin. “Thanks again for the help.”

“Any time,” he says. You hope he means it.

Ami’s sitting up in her bed when you come through the door.

“Hey,” she says, “I’m surprised the bonfire went that long.”

“It didn’t,” you reply. “I was out practicing defense with Zach. Because his cabin was occupied.”

Ami grins. After she gives you a recap of her time with Malcolm, which she says went no further than heavy making out, she turns the attention back to you.

“How was practice?” she says. “If that’s what actually happened.”

“It is,” you laugh. “Great. He’s really good.”

“At what?” she asks suggestively.

“At soccer,” you laugh again. “We honestly just practiced. And even if he’s into me like that, he seems serious about the no dating rule. I wouldn’t risk it, either. I don’t know what you’re planning with Malcolm but apparently they’re actually strict about it, so be careful.”

“I will, but I’m not worried. We talked about how we’ll only be casual. And discreet. You be careful, too, okay?”

“Nothing to be careful about,” you say with a shrug.

“So, if Zach asked you out, you wouldn’t be down?”

Truthfully, you’re not sure you’d be able to resist dating him, even if it had to be in secret. Zach is impossible not to like.

“It’s not happening,” you simply reply.

Just like every other year, welcoming campers the next morning is havoc. Zach feels a sense of pride when he sees a familiar face, another kid who loved this place so much that they wanted to come back.

After the campers are directed to their cabins, orientation is held at the dining hall, followed by breakfast.

Voices bounce loudly around the hall as kids dig into their food, every counselor sitting at the head of the table with their cohorts.

He makes conversation, asking his boys questions to encourage them to talk with each other. His eyes flit up to you every so often, hoping he doesn’t get caught staring.

You’re sitting a few tables away, smiling as you chat. He almost can’t believe how much fun he had with you on the pitch under the stars last night.

Things are just so simple with you. He doesn’t have to think about what to say, because he knows you’ll play along or just laugh at his dorky joke. He likes you. A lot.

The rest of the day is dedicated to games across the campground, with training scheduled to start tomorrow. At one point, you ask over the walkie-talkies if anyone knows where extra flags for a game are kept.

Zach replies to check the top shelf of one of the storage sheds. You thank him and even though all he does is say You got it, newbie over the radio, you think about the way he said it for much longer than you would if it were anyone else.

Lunch goes by quickly, followed by more games. Throughout the day, Zach has noticed that one of his new campers, Oliver, has kept to himself. He tried to talk with him every so often, but he just got one-word answers.

So, when Oliver approaches him before Zach blows his whistle to signal the start of the last game of the day, he’s hopeful that he’ll ask about the game and finally show some interest in camp.

“I don’t want to do this game,” the little boy says. “I’m tired.”

It’s disappointing, but Zach doesn’t want to push him. Some kids just need time.

“That’s okay,” Zach says. “You can go sit in the shade. No pressure.”

Half an hour later, everyone goes to the dining hall for dinner.

While he eats, Zach is already exhausted and regrets volunteering to do one of the overnight shifts the first day. Every night, four counselors are scheduled to sleep in one of the four camper cabins, so that campers aren’t ever left without supervision.

It’s a guarantee of a bad sleep. Kids are always way too excited to do anything but talk to each other in their bunks on the first night, having to be reminded over and over that yes, even whispering counts as talking.

But Zach has always hated disappointing people, so he couldn’t risk letting down his aunt and uncle by not volunteering. He has the longest tenure of any other counselor here. He needs to set a good example.

After dinner, the kids are given free time before lights out, free to either hang out in their cabins or by the campfire. This gives some of the staff a moment to congregate by the dock, offering the perfect spot to keep an eye on campers without being heard by them.

It’s just past dusk as you stand by the boarded walkway leading into the shallow waters, looking out to your cohort of campers around the fire. You hear Zach ask about how the first day has been.

You look over to see him chatting with a couple of other counselors, a big smile on his face. It’s a good reminder that he’s simply a friendly guy and might not even be into you like that.

But when his eyes land on you and his smile gets a little wider, your heart refuses to agree with your mind. He must feel something, too.

Zach shifts closer to you, crossing his arms. His biceps bulge under his t-shirt. You quickly tear your gaze off of his muscles and up to his blue eyes.

“You surviving?” he asks.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Don’t know. Some people just don’t have what it takes.”

“You’re so much nicer to the other counselors,” you tease, looking down and shaking your head.

Zach feels himself blush, tense that you’re calling him out for brazenly flirting with you. But when your eyes flitter back to his, he can tell by your innocent smile that you don’t have any intention to embarrass him.

“It’s all an act,” he says. You laugh and cross your arms, mirroring him. “Your kids getting along?”

“I think so,” you say. “They already have their little cliques.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Zach says. He looks out to the campfire and you catch his smile slowly fade, his strong jaw tensing.

“How about yours?” you ask.

“Got one who seems like he really doesn’t want to be here at all,” he admits.

You follow his eye-line to the boy sitting on the steps of a camper cabin, staring down at the book in his hands as he reads under the porch light.

“Usually with those kids, it just takes a few hours and they settle in,” he says, “but I don’t know. I’ll give it another try.”

Sure enough, when Zach crosses the distance and asks Oliver what he’s reading, he answers with the title, then ducks his head to quickly back to reading.

You notice from far away, confident that if you were close enough, you would see disappointment on Zach’s face.

The next morning, Zach is even more tired than he expected. The overnight shift was full of interruptions. He’s sure he’ll sleep like a rock tonight.

As everyone sits in the dining hall for breakfast, you dig into your food, listening to your campers talk to each other.

Then, your eyes drift over to Zach. You realize he was already looking at you. It makes your stomach go numb. He quickly glances away.

You notice that the same kid he talked about last night is sitting at the end of the table, alone, picking at his food. Considering how helpful Zach has been, and simply because you like him, you decide to see what you can do.

Near the end of breakfast, campers begin to clear off and put away their plates, and you walk over and crouch at the end of Zach’s table.

The boy looks up at you with an unreadable expression. You introduce yourself, pointing to your name-tag, asking him his name.

“Oliver,” he says, looking back down. You notice he hardly ate anything.

“How are you liking camp?” you ask quietly. Your eyes dart up to look at Zach at the other end of the table. His lips quirk into a hint of a smile.

“I’m not,” he answers.

“Is there anything that would make you feel better?” you offer.

“Leaving,” he says. You stifle your frown.

“Besides that,” you reply. “And you can be totally honest.”

“The food here sucks,” he mumbles. You look down at the uneaten pancake he’s pushing around with his fork.

“What if we got better pancakes?” you ask.

“I don’t want pancakes,” he replies. “I want waffles.”

“Waffles,” you say with a smile, glad you at least got an answer. You stand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Oliver looks up at you with surprised eyes. Something tells you that he isn’t used to being asked what he wants and actually getting it.

You head back to your table to rally your girls, but you find Zach before counselors start leading their groups outside.

“You said you had connections, right?”

Zach turns to see you standing behind him, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach flips when he makes eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” he says. Campers rush around you as you stand by the front door of the dining hall.

“If you can sneak in some waffles, I think Oliver might like it a little better here,” you say.

“He told you that?” he asks.

“No, I’m a mindreader,” you tease. “Yes, he told me that.”

Zach smirks as you turn away to rush back to your group. He can’t stop smiling even after you’re gone.

It’s a long, hot day. You were disappointed when you saw the schedule this morning, because while you like all the vets, you had hoped Zach would be one of the counselors you’d be paired with for drills today. Maybe tomorrow.

All afternoon, your walkie kept crackling and losing signal. You mention it to one of the directors, Ruby, when you see her by the main office and she promises to get you a new one soon.

After the campers go to bed, you head back to your cabin, expecting to see Ami. But her bed is empty. You double-check the schedule in the staff group chat to confirm she isn’t one of the overnight shifts tonight.

You figure she’s hanging out somewhere else on the campground. You settle in for the evening with a shower, then get into your pajamas and decide to do some skincare and self-pampering.

Zach lets out a tired, heavy sigh when he sees Malcolm’s text. He exits the dining hall and steps into the thick night air, rereading the message from his cabin-mate.

Ami’s over. I’ll text when she’s gone.

He just came back from the closest grocery store specifically to buy as many boxes of frozen waffles as he could carry after he got the okay from his aunt. He used up all the freezer space he could find in the dining hall kitchen and now, he just wants to lie in his bed.

He’s not sure what to do. He’s never been that confrontational at work, preferring to keep the peace, but if this becomes a habit of Malcolm’s this summer, he’ll have to say something to him.

He heads towards his cabin, just in case his best friend texts in the meantime. He doesn’t.

Before he can turn around to go sit by the lake to kill time, he notices the light spilling out from behind the edges of the blinds on your cabin window.

Maybe you’d like to keep him company like you did the other night. Without much more thought, he knocks on your door.

When you open it, you’re in pajamas, your hair wet from the shower, pink gel strips under your eyes.

Zach smiles, thinking you look adorable and wishing he could say it out loud.

“Hey,” you say. You notice he’s still in his work clothes, even though lights out for campers was over an hour ago. “What’s up?”

“I was, um… I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out,” he says, holding up his phone. “I just got the text version of the shirt on the doorknob.”

You laugh and quickly clue in that Ami is with Malcolm next door.

“So, that’s where she is,” you say. “Come in. We can hang out here.”

When the door shuts behind Zach, you wonder if he also feels the weight of the privacy you two have now. This is different from being out on the pitch the day you met. There’s no chance of anyone seeing you behind your closed cabin door. It’s intimate. Almost risky.

“How was your day?” you ask, sitting on your bed as Zach settles on the chair tucked under your desk.

You’re trying to act casual and relaxed, but it’s hard to when you meet his eyes. He’s too cute not to get shy around.

“Well, I just went into town to buy like, ten boxes of Eggos,” he tells you. “That’s a first.”

“Did you really?”

“I thought it’d only be fair if I got enough for my whole group,” he explains. “Turns out we don’t have a waffle maker, but we do have toasters, so it was the best I could do.”

“Nice,” you say. “I’m glad the kitchen staff were cool with it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m actually sneaking in the kitchen tomorrow morning to make them. The cooks have more than enough work, so as long as I don’t get in their way, I think I’m good.”

You still for a second, endeared. You knew he’d make an effort to help Oliver feel welcome, but he’s going to all these lengths just to make a kid happy?

“Anyway, my point is, thanks for the intel,” he says, realizing he’s tiredly rambling. “I appreciate you talking to him.”

You bashfully glance away. He tries not to stare at you. It feels like trying not to stare at you is all he does when he’s around you.

He’s damn near enamored. He likes the smell of your shampoo, the way you look in your pajamas, how sweet your smile is. He hopes his nervousness isn’t obvious.

“No problem,” you say. “So, you haven’t been in your cabin at all since lights out?”

Zach shakes his head, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. He’s clearly tired and bothered by his cabin-mate kicking him out of his room. You wonder if he’ll say anything to Malcolm, but for his sake, you decide to keep the atmosphere light.

“I have a lot of these,” you offer, pointing to the under-eye strips on your face. “You wanna try? It’ll help you relax.”

“Is it that obvious that I need to relax?” he says.

You only smile in response and stand to pick up a stack of multi-colored packets of gel strips from the basket on your dresser and hold them out to him.

Zach’s eyes travel over the colorful array, sitting still as you stand over him. You’re not surprised that he’s actually going along with it.

Some guys would be tense, acting like skin-care is feminine, and therefore, embarrassing, but he’s relaxed and nothing but green flags, like usual.

“Lots of options here,” he says pensively.

“Are you always this indecisive?” you tease after a long moment of quiet.

Zach looks up and pretends to glare, but the dimples framing his stifled smirk give him away.

“You mad I’m right?” you echo his words from last night.

“A little,” he says, just like you did. You got him pegged. He’s always been bad at making choices, especially under pressure.

“I can pick for you.”

“Bossy,” he replies. “But, yeah. Pick. Please.”

You laugh and randomly choose a packet, opening the purple packaging for him and holding out the film. He takes it in his hand, looking at it with furrowed brows.

You decide to help him out. It’s what a friend would do.

“Here,” you say softly, pushing down your nerves. Warm eyes meet yours and you try to act composed. You peel off one of the strips, pressing it up just above his cheekbone. His skin is hot, his stare strong.

You step a little closer, focus etched onto your face, the corners of your lips slightly turned up. As you apply the other strip, your legs brush against his knees and he imagines how nice it’d feel to drag his hands up the backs of your thighs.

You’re so close and so pretty that it almost hurts not to touch you how he’d like to. You’re just as flirty with him and he’s sure you’d want his hands on you like that, but he’d ask before doing it. That is, if you weren’t coworkers.

You can’t help but giggle when you step back to look at him.

“What, is purple not my color?” Zach asks.

“No, it totally is,” you reply. “Keep them on until they feel dry.”

You settle in your bed again, your back pressed against the wall, legs stretched out.

“How was your day?” he says, having to clear his throat. “I never asked.”

“Yeah, you didn’t. Rude.” Zach smiles at your joke. “It was good. My first overnight shift is tomorrow. How was it last night? Did you actually get any sleep?”

“Not really,” he admits. “But the first night is always the roughest. You’ll be fine.”

He fails to stifle a yawn. You figure that after a bad sleep, a busy day, and running an errand in town, he must be exhausted. Once again, like it always does with Zach, your curiosity is too strong to ignore.

“Does this bother you?” you ask, vaguely motioning in the direction of his cabin.

Right now, Zach doesn’t mind Malcolm keeping him out because it means time with you. And while he’d normally say something like that openly, never having been one to shy away from sharing thoughts like these with a girl he likes, the stakes are so much higher right now.

Because dating is against the rules. Because you might reject him. Because he’s actually never been this nervous around a girl before.

“It’s okay,” he simply says. You wonder if he’s just not one to stand up to people.

“I can talk to Ami if it becomes a problem,” you tell him. “I won’t say you said anything, but let me know if you want me to mention it.”

Before he can reply, there’s a knock on your door. You answer it to see Ruby standing at your front step holding out a new walkie.

“Hey,” she says. “Sorry you had tech issues today. We can swap.”

“Oh, perfect,” you say. “It’s no problem. Thank you.”

Zach freezes when he sees his aunt. This looks like… well, it could simply look like two friends hanging out. But it might look like more.

As you take the new walkie and cross your small cabin to exchange it for your malfunctioning one, Ruby catches Zach’s gaze and offers him a genuine but confused smile.

He decides to try to act normal, even though he feels like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“She’s not going to get in trouble for breaking it?” Zach jokes, pointing to you.

“I didn’t break it,” you reply with a laugh as you hand the old walkie to your boss. “I’m not in trouble, though, am I?”

“Nope,” Ruby says lightheartedly. Zach nervously chews the inside of his cheek. Her tone could mean that while you’re not in hot water, he is.

He watches you shut the door. It’s not like you got caught hooking up. But he wouldn’t even be able to explain what he’s doing here. It would mean snitching on his best friend for breaking one of the major rules staff need to follow.

A rule that it looks like he’s breaking. His stomach twists. He always hated disappointing authority figures, especially ones he so badly wants to impress.

When you settle on your bed again, you notice Zach peeling off the gel strips, his lips in a firm line.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Thanks for these.”

“Sure. Doesn’t seem like they relaxed you, though.”

Zach tosses the patches in the wastebasket and stands. Your heart sinks when you realize he’s leaving.

“They did. I just wanna lie down,” he says with a soft chuckle, hoping he’s not being terse. “I’m beat.”

“You can rest here while you wait for-”

“No, it’s alright,” he interrupts, heading for the door. You realize his whole demeanor has shifted after Ruby popped by.

Zach looks over his shoulder to see your features drawn in confusion and sadness. He opens his mouth before the words come to him seconds later.

“Sorry,” he says. “It was fun hanging out with you.”

“You, too,” you reply, your smile erasing the hurt on your face. You want to tell him he’s welcome any time, but he leaves in a rush.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking or maybe he’s simply a nice person, but you’re sure you both feel the magnetism between you.

And he must be really freaked out at the thought of you doing something about it, based on how stiff he got after Ruby came by, possibly suspecting that things are more than friendly between you.

The more time you spend together, the thinner the ice you���re skating on gets. You don’t want to risk the fall and cost you both your jobs.

So, as you get up to brush your teeth, you promise yourself that no matter what, you’ll keep things strictly professional. For your sake and Zach’s.

(part three)

divider credit

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[sxorpiomooon]

What does your younger self think about you? A pac reading

This reading scared the fucking shit out of me guys had to gather alot of courage to do it. Good luck

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Pile 1-

I think pile 1's younger self thinks that they have been indulging themselves in something too much for no reason? Like pile 1 has been too impatient. They might think that you might have started to focus too much on the appearance of things I especially see this for yourself too. This pile might be too focused on how they look overall and I see it causing them harm. "Only understanding the cost of things and not their value" is what I heard. This is so cute but I think pile 1's younger self likes how feminine they've become now? For some reason I had a vision of cinderalla. I think this pile's younger self is super excited about them being able to dress up nicely. I think the younger self also thinks that you guys have more resources than you did back then whether it's in the material sense or people but they're very happy with that. For some of you, if you are trying to get pregnant or alr have kids i see your pile being very very excited and happy about that too. The younger self also thinks that you guys tend to walk away from things too early? Oml pile 1 i hope y'all not gambling n shit😭 anyways they think that just when you are about to win, you decide to leave that thing behind. The main message I get is being patient with yourself also heard "my patience leads to perseverance"

Pile 2-

Your younger self is satisfied with how far you've come. Especially in the emotional sense they think that you have reached emotional stability and know your worth and it makes them happy. Also if you are someone who wins a lot of awards and has a pile of awards stacked up perhaps someone who's also athletic, your younger self is very proud. pile 2 has found themselves. I see that you might have had a lot of experiences helping you in gaining wisdom and whatever you needed to be at this level. Your younger self also loves how sensitive you are and how much in touch with your emotions you are. For some of you, i see that you've not turned out how you would've expected yourself to be(in a good way) so even your younger self is surprised. They love how much of a dreamer you are. However I think this pile has a lot of struggles or tests that life or fate puts them through. You might struggle a bit with authority and communication this I see happening bc of not proper communication I think your younger self wants you to have more clarity regarding that.

Pile 3-

Your younger self thinks that you've lost your way and your sight.

"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Is something that I heard immediately. Your younger self might think that you are very trapped and alone misguided in this world right now I keep hearing unreal monsters lure for some reason? Your younger self might also think that you have been lied to or taken advantage of by people? However, your younger self also thinks that alot of things are going wrong simply because you are trying to find your way and as long as you make sure to balance everything especially your priority and as I heard "the life that you want" it will all be ok

Pile 4-

Your younger self wants you to live your life and indulge into things and whatever that you like but they also want you to take a few minutes to see the bigger picture of it every time before you make a decision or do something. "Does it really serve me?" Is something that I keep hearing. Having pleasure and fun is nice but it also must be done to a limit. Me and the devil keep playing in my head and I keep hearing ego. Some of you have to keep your ego in check. Brat keeps playing in my head and I'm seeing a dj party for some reason. Your younger self also thinks that either you alr have or you are going to start a new beginning very soon and they seem excited for that bc that might be the path you are meant to follow. They want you to take the leap of faith and have courage in yourself. They also want you to always keep learning and defend yourself when needed

[whatisamettafor]

I saw a horrible AI Tam and Lucy this morning in animal onesies and had to use my actual human hands to make a better version.

After drawing the whole thing I was like damn....I should have made s*xy pin ups with little ears, so if you want to tell me to do that, consider joining the patreon

Edited because tumblr absolutely will not allow me to reply to messages, so I'm trying to reply to @booksnwriting:

The difference is that the other person put their prompt into a computer and the computer program took a bunch of artists' hard work and skill without permission to fill that prompt. I'm taking human skill, time and effort and using it to fill a prompt. What I'm doing is no different than any art challenge, or draw your OTP like this meme or whatever. Do I have their permission? No, but frankly if you're out here stealing other people's skills and calling it art, then I think it's only fair that your ideas can be turned around and used as prompts by people with those skills to produce actual drawings. Furthermore, what I'm doing is not hurting them, but if they didn't have access to a database of stolen work, maybe they would have given money to an actual human artist to draw their prompt, maybe they would have held a little drawing prompt contest and shared the art and gained real artists exposure which could then allow those artists to find work doing other commissions. Even if they didn't do either of those things, even if not having AI meant their idea just stayed in their head never to see the light of day, the existence of AI art in general devalues skills people had to work to develop and takes jobs away from those people by taking their existing work. That actively hurts artists. I'm "bashing" them because what they're doing is actively harming me and people like me.

Based on your user name I assume you are probably a writer, and I would like to ask you: is there more value in an actual human being writing things like fanfic (stories using other people's ideas as their jumping off point) or original books that include genre tropes than there is in typing prompts into a text generating AI?

Would you be annoyed if someone chose to write a retelling of Dracula using their own brain and hands in response to hearing that someone else was marketing a Dracula retelling that they'd "written" using a text autofill program?

And just so we're clear, the thing that makes the AI horrible is that it's AI, not whether or not it's nice to look at.

[alphajocklover]

No longer a Spider, finally a Man

**Hey! First time doing a fanfic muscle growth. Or at least posting it. I hope you guys like it! Please tell me how I can do better, and send in story suggestions if you want!**

Peter Parker loved being Spider-Man. He loved saving people, he loved using his powers to make a difference, he loved swinging through the sky line. But he also hated it. He hated the pressure, the responsibility, the fact that he nd his loved ones were in constant danger, the fact that he was always lying to everyone. He hated that he could never be normal. But then again Peter had never been very normal. Even before becoming Spider-man he had been a nerd. Smart, socially awkward, and tormented by the popular kids. That didn’t exactly change after becoming Spider-Man either, though his social issues had definitely gone to the back burner with him constantly fighting crime. If he was being honest his social life had only gotten worse since becoming a superhero. He had gained some muscle and no longer needed glasses, yes, but he couldn’t exactly show that. He hadn’t had time for his friends, his normally fantastic grades were slipping, and Flashes bullying had only gotten worse.

As Peter, out of costume, walked to Midtown, he wondered what it would be like to be a normal teenager. Not just what it would be like to not be Spider-Man, but to not be a nerd. He wondered what it would be like to be a regular teenage boy. Maybe if he wasn’t Spider-Man he could have even been… cool or something. Probably not, but it was still a nice fantasy. Just as he was imagining this, his spider-sense went off. He looked around, prepared to jump out of the way of any danger, but, even with his super reflexes, he couldn’t get out of the way before the strange something hit him right in the middle of his chest. Peter stumbled back, not realizing that the reality stone, one of the infinity stones, had lodged itself inside of his heart. Normally such a thing would kill someone, or at least hurt them, but due to the magic nature of the stone it phased through his chest and inside of him without harming him. Peter blinked. What… just happened? He had sworn something had just flown into his chest but… wouldn’t that have killed him or something? Before he could investigate further, an alarm on his phone began to ring. Crap, he was late for class! Peter ran into the school as the power of the reality stone seeped into his blood. He turned a corner, just a hallway away from his classroom, when he almost ran straight into a wall of muscle, his super-reflexes being the only thing that saved him. As he skirted to a halt, he came face to face with his biggest tormentor (supervillains and news editors notwithstanding) : Flash Thompson. The most popular jock in school and Peter Parker's personal bully. The blond quarterback sneered cockily at Peter before he spoke

“Hey there Puny Parker. Running late again? I thought geeks like you were supposed to be punctual and shit?” Flash said with a cocky mocking laugh.

“What do you want, Flash?” Peter asked with a scowl, trying to keep his patience.

“Just checking up on my favorite nerd.” Flash mocked, grabbing Peter’s arm. Before Peter could react, Flash had shoved him up against the locker, peters arm pinned behind his back. What the heck? He had super powers, enhanced reflexes, he should have been able to see that coming. Peter didn’t realize that his subconscious desire to be normal was repressing his powers. Unable to fight back, Peter was shoved into a nearby open locker and locked inside. Peter sighed. Stuck in a locker again. Peter didn’t notice as the orange light in his chest began to glow. He closed his eyes and deeply wished… to stop being a loser. To be normal. To be… anything else than who he was. The orange light grew brighter and brighter… until it completely consumed Peter. Suddenly he heard something

“Parker… Parker!”

With a start Peter Parker woke up, looking around in shock. He was… in a classroom? He was sitting at a desk at the back of a class he didn’t recognize, one that he seemed to have been sleeping through. Had all of that been a crazy dream? He looked over to see the remedial math teacher, Ms Jones. What was he doing in remedial math? Before he could say anything, Ms Jones spoke once more

“Mr Parker, please try to stay awake during class. Your grade is already low enough.” She said, sending a chuckle throughout the room. Peter spoke without thinking, his voice deeper and fuller than he remembered.

“Sorry teach. I’m still tired from our ‘study session’ last night. Thanks for the extra tutoring by the way~” he said. Did he just… flirt with a teacher? He did! And weirdly enough the slight embarrassed blush on Ms Jones face suggested that it was working. Ms. Jones spoke again, more timid this time

“While.. just don’t be late tonight.” She said with a slight wink, before walking over to the front of the classroom again. This caused the class, which now that Peter was looking consisted mostly of the football team, too laugh loudly, one punching Peter on the shoulder in a playful manner. Peter felt a smirk he couldn’t control come over his face, and his eyes involuntaries followed Ms Jones' ass as she walked back to the front of the class. In a daze, Peter tried to figure out what was happening. Wasn’t he just in a locker? What was he doing in remedial math? And why was he acting so weird? Before he could wonder any further, the bell rang and class was dismissed. Peter ran out without talking to anyone, and headed to a nearby bathroom. He looked in the mirror and froze. It was Peter but… completely different. He was bigger, taller, with wider shoulders. He had full, bouncy pecs that were barely contained by his tank top, shredded abs that he could grate cheese on, and truly impressive biceps. Peter had gone from a geek who gets stuffed into lockers to a huge muscular jock! Peter wanted to be shocked, to be horrified, but… he felt another smirk cross his face. He began to flex his muscles cockily. He smirked and felt his thoughts turn. He looked fucking amazing! I mean, of course he did. He was big Pete Parker, the big man, the quarterback, the stud! Slowly Peter began to forget about his old self, too absorbed in the strong, dull thoughts going through his head. He wondered what he and his best bro Flash would do after football practice? Maybe beat up some geeks, or find a hottie to hook up with? Peter had a lot of girls to choose from already, including MJ, Liz, Gwen, Charlie and of course Ms Jones, but… he wouldn’t mind another. Pete smirked and strut out of the bathroom, not noticing a light orange glow between his pecs. Life was fucking sweet.

[immortalmrwavell]

Wishful Possession

(Original story posted October 5th 2021 & Rework posted December 29th 2021) This story was been Updated!

Ben had just finished the eventful day that was his 20th birthday. It was a blast as you’d expect. He got tons of presents, got to see lots of family and had a huge party at the end of it all with lots of friends. Eventually the night had to come to an end though. The partying died down. People started heading off home. And soon enough Ben found himself crawling into bed and heading to sleep. Little did he know, there was one last gift in store for him.

As he slept, Ben began to dream as he did most nights. However something about this one felt different. Everything seemed so clear as he stood in what looked to be a mashup between his old school class room, his bedroom and his kitchen. Not uncommon considering how our brains like to squash random memories together. Ben’s immediate thought was that he must have started to lucid dream somehow. If that were the case then he should be able to control the dream. At least that’s what he thought anyway. However when he tried to create or change anything, nothing would happen.

It was then that a mysterious voice echoed around him. The voice informed him that, even though this was Ben’s dream, that he was in control of it. Ben wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Regardless, the ominous voice continued to speak, explaining to Ben that it was going to grace him with a very special gift that very few are given. The gift of ghostly possession. It went on to explain that Ben would gain the ability to freely project his soul out of his body and be able to freely possess the bodies of others. The only rule however was that he wasn’t allowed to stay in another body for more than 12 hours at a time. If he does then his soul will become permanently attached to the new body. Forever.

After hearing all this, Ben finally spoke up against the voice, telling it there was no way that any of that was possible and that this was only a dream. Amused, the voice told Ben to attempt his new power when he wakes. All he has to do is wish for himself to leave his body. Then he’ll know if this is for real or not. Ben was about to speak again when…

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

Ben was awoken by his alarm clock blaring at 7:00 in the morning. It was a college morning after all. He groaned at the idea of getting out of bed… that is until he started to recall that strange dream. But he ended up laughing it off of course. Actually being able to possess people like a ghost? Absolutely not. That was soooo silly…

Then again though, as he thought more about it, Ben found himself more and more curious about the idea. As stupid as it seemed, he didn’t think there could be any harm in trying it right? Just for a laugh.

And so the young man closed his eyes and took a deep breath before wishing to leave his body. He wished for it multiple times over until it just felt stupid doing it. Ben opened his eyes, feeling like a complete idiot, only to hear a thud as soon as he did. He looked down to see none other than his own body that’d collapsed on his bed! But even more shocking was that he was now floating! Looking down at himself, he found that his whole body, if he could even call it that now, was transparent. Just like… a ghost.

After coming to grips with the reality of the situation and that this was clearly real, he started thinking of someone to possess. Who would be the perfect subject to test this power on he wondered? It didn’t take long for a certain someone to pop into his mind. In a flash Ben flew out of his house and began flying over towards his best friend Danny’s house! Only Danny wouldn’t be the one he was after.

Upon arriving at his friend’s place, Ben gazed inside and headed upstairs into one of the bedrooms. And there was his target Mr Thompson, Danny’s dad, sleeping nice and soundly. He was laid on top of the covers with his thick lumbering frame sprawled out across the entire bed. The pros of being a single parent apparently. Not to mention Mr Thompson was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left very little to Ben’s imagination.

For quite a long time now Ben had a thing for Mr Thompson. Whenever he’d head round Danny’s house, he would alway hope his dad would be home. Always anxious to squeeze a few sneaky glances at the burly older man. Ben was pretty sure Danny knew about the crush but probably didn’t bring it up for the sake of not making things weird. But now was finally Ben’s chance to take what he’d been lusting over for so long! No longer did he have to sneak his hand into the clothes hamper in hopes of pulling out a pair of Mr Thompson’s briefs to take home with him. Now he could actually have that sexy dad bod all for himself!!

The horny ghost dove head first into the slumbering daddy before him. His soul was immediately absorbed inside. As Ben’s spirit began writhing around inside its new vessel, trying to take control, Mr Thompson’s eyes shot open. He had no idea what was happening to him as his back arched and his ass clenched involuntarily while his body was invaded.

“Wh-at… the… fuuuuuuck!?” Were all the words the bearish man could muster before his body collapsed back down onto the bed, relaxing once more. Mr Thompson’s soul was quickly repressed as Ben’s started to take control. Moments later, his eyes opened once again only this time Ben was the one looking through them.

Immediately Ben sat up and looked down at his new body. His meaty hands practically flew towards his large new hairy gut first and foremost. Giving the pudgy belly a satisfying jiggle before allowing his hands to move up towards his soft but muscled furry pecs. Only after he worshiped them a little as well his he bring those same thick hands up to his face before running them across his new mature features and of course his new beard.

“Oh fuuuuck yeah. I could get used to this!” Ben grinned maliciously to himself, getting even more turned on by the sound of Mr Thompson’s deep manly voice leaving his mouth. He could already feel his new beer can cock start to stiffen in his sweatpants. Ben had always wanted to see Mr Thompson's hard cock but actually feeling it grow rock solid between his legs was something he never imagined he’d have the pleasure of experiencing. Not being able to stop himself from bringing a meaty paw down to meet it and rubbing it through the soft fabric. “Dad cock…” he mumbled to himself as he caressed the bulge.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Ben hardly had a second to react before Danny entered the bedroom.

“Hey dad I-… ummm” Danny stopped short as he quickly noticed his dads obscene bulge, trying to process the scene before him.

Ben had to hold back a laugh as he saw Danny’s eyes glance at his crotch. “What is it son? spit it out.” He replied confidently just as Mr Thompson would. The older man’s personality had seemed to slip through a little as he stood up from the bed.

“I was just uhhh coming to see if you were okay. I heard you groaning and I thought you might’ve… hurt something?” Danny replied, trying to avoid eye contact with his dads crotch. It was clear he had no idea how to react. Especially as Ben took a few paces towards Danny, his bulging daddy cock bouncing in his sweatpants as he did.

“Nope! Your old man is in perfect shape son.” Ben chuckled, acting as if everything was totally normal. “Anyway. You should worry less about me and more about getting your ass to college on time boy.” He continued while asserting his new fatherly authority. With that Danny scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

The power he just felt in that moment was such a rush. Ben couldn’t help but feel so manly and in charge now. He stomped his way over to his mirror and gave his new biceps a flex. God he looked sexy. Shortly after he couldn’t help but give his pits a quick sniff too. “Oooooh yeah, lovin that dad stench.” He stated with dumb grin, taking a few more deep whiffs of his new dad pits before finally turning his attention back to his erection.

Ben rubbed his cock a little more through his sweatpants before finally pulling it down to reveal Mr Thompson’s fat throbbing cock.

“Wuhh-huuuu-hoooooh!” Was his first reaction. He’d already felt how thick it was but finally seeing free from its fabric restraints was something else entirely. He could only just manage to fit one of his new meaty hands around its full girth.

As he began jerking off his new rod, Ben gave his body a quick turnaround in the mirror so he could get a nice look at his new dad butt. He let go of his cock just for a second so he could use both hands to give his thick new ass a couple squeezes. He was already addicted not only to the thickness of it but also the sexy nice layer of fur covering his stolen daddy cheeks.

This went on for about an hour or so. Ben checking out his new body from every angle imaginable while jerking mature cock. Frequently using his free hand to rub and shake his large hairy belly and soft pecs before flexing it in the mirror every now and then. Eventually though, Ben decided it was time as he picked the pace on his, now very sensitive, dad dick. He began jerking his thick cock feverishly. His eyes glued to the sexy reflection staring back at him the whole time. All until he let out a deep guttural moan before his cock shot rope after rope of thick dad nut over the floor, mirror and himself.

Minutes after, as Ben was catching his breath, he heard the front door open and close. It must’ve been Danny heading off to college. He chuckled to himself knowing Danny had to have heard most of that.

Ben headed back into Mr Thompson’s bedroom where he picked up some dirty white socks laying on the floor. He couldn’t help but check himself out in the bedroom mirror again as he pulled them on before heading downstairs into the living room.

He planted his new ass firmly on the couch before flicking on the TV. He thought he’d enjoy some drama shows or something in his new dad bod for a while. however all he felt like watching right now was… football? He knew Mr Thompson loved sitting down to watch the game. Seems like even more of Mr Thompson’s likes and personality were seeping through as he grabbed a beer and started to watch a pre-recorded football game.

Before long Ben found himself cheering along to the game and enjoying himself far more than he imagined. He really was becoming just like the hot dad he always crushed on. Unlike Mr Thompson however, Ben couldn’t help but check out some of the hot sweaty players on the pitch. He scratched his balls while sipping on his beer, imagining what it would feel like to rail some of those hot jock asses.

Ben spent the rest of the day simply enjoying himself as Mr Thompson. Acting like a bit of slob in his new body felt strangely erotic as he went through his day. Due to Mr Thompson’s influence, he ended up just watching sports all day while enjoying his body along with all its musky goodness. Only stopping every now and then for food.

Before long it was already 6:00pm and Ben had finally passed out drunk after all the beers he’d had. Snoring loudly on the couch while occasionally scratching his belly in his sleep. Danny had come home at some point but Ben didn’t take much notice as his new son went straight to his bedroom. He was probably too embarrassed to talk after what’d happened that morning.

Later that evening Ben finally awoke with one of his thick hands plunged into his underwear, cradling his cock and balls. The TV was still on playing some random sports programme as Ben sat up. He looked up at the clock and his eyes widened. It was 11:15pm. Ben suddenly remembered what he was told in his dream. That if he stayed in a body longer than 12 hours then he’d be stuck! He’d possessed Mr Thompson at just past 7:00am meaning that now he’d been in the body for over 16 hours!!!

Immediately Ben tried to wish himself out of Mr Thompson’s body so he could be back in his original 20 year old body. But it was no use. He was stuck as Mr Thompson permanently.

For a moment he was upset at having lost a fair amount of his life. But then he started to remember just how at home he’d felt in this body. More so than he’d ever felt in his old one. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad living the rest of life in this big, burly body. He’d lusted after it for so many years after all. Perhaps that’d been a sign that he was always supposed to take this body. He’d have to get used to calling himself by Mr Thompson’s name though. Henry. It was strange to even think but that was his name now.

And just like that the new Henry Thompson plunged his hand back into his underwear once again. Acting like the sport loving, beer drinking slob he now was as he drifted back off to sleep thinking of all the hot guys he was gonna fuck with his new dad bod.

Unbeknownst to Ben, after the initial 12 hours had passed, the real Henry’s soul had been ejected from his body and slingshotted into Ben’s original 20 year old body. Soon after he woke up in the hospital after his parents found him unconscious and couldn’t wake him. He had a meltdown at first just like anyone would in his situation but after realising what had seemingly happened, Henry couldn’t help being a little happy. He was so young and lean again. A whole new chance at life! Maybe he could finally become the athlete he’d always wished he arrived to become in his old life.

@verus-veritas @verus-animus I remember you really enjoying this one back in the day

[lovelybluebirdie]

Blood whispers

Astarion x gn!Reader 

Summary: On the night you almost killed him, Astarion promised to help you overcome your urges. When they suddenly threaten to overwhelm you again, he needs to take care of you.

Word Count: 2,8k

no warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

AO3

Travelling across the shadow-cursed lands had provided Astarion some valuable knowledge. Not only had he learned the meanings of the scars on his back, it was also revealed that the scheme behind the tadpole in his brain was far greater than he had initially anticipated.

These discoveries alone should have been enough to keep him adequately occupied, yet there had been another novelty: for the first time in his life he had developed genuine affection for someone. Namely for you, the softhearted adventurer with an undeniable saviour-complex. You had filled his chest with an unfamiliar warmth and therefore led him to great confusion - at least until his constant brooding had left the inevitable conclusion that you meant far more to him than a solely guarantee for his safety.

His plan with you had been calculated to serve his own needs. He needed protection, so he had aimed to lure you into a selfish alliance by gaining your trust and using his charm to get you on his side. 

As it turned out, this simple little plan of his had fallen apart rather quickly: not only had he come to truly care about you, he had also openly admitted these feelings to you. To his surprise, you had shared that you felt the same.

Even though Astarion wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with you half the time or where all of this was leading - being with you was astonishingly nice. 

From the moment Astarion had told you about his failed plan, you had decided to be with each other without sleeping together. For the past centuries, sex had been merely a tool for him to collect victims for his former master, so it still brought up feelings of loath and disgust. 

With you, he experienced that there was more to intimacy than sex.

At first, the thought of forming a sincere connection had terrified him. What was he to do with you, and how could he be close to you in a real way - in a way that mattered?

But somehow, you made it easy for him. 

You had been considerate not to overwhelm him with your affection. It had been small steps: a single grasp for his hand, some soft kisses in the safety of your blanket or a heartfelt embrace in between all the fights and mischief that paved the way along your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles.

Sometimes you would read to him, his head resting comfortably in your lap, while your fingers formed circles through his curls. He adored the feeling of your body close against his back, leaving the sensation of your warm hands on his chest the last thing he would remember before he would fall into his nightly trance. 

You made him feel safe, and he found himself positively enjoying your time together.

Of course there had also been that other night. 

That night, when the fear over losing you to your darkness had scared Astarion more than any torture his former master could have ever inflicted on him.

You had woken him with a vigorous shake, eyes wide open and sheer panic in your voice. “We don’t have much time,” you would say, almost swallowing your tongue. “I’m going to kill the person I care about most – and it is you.”

Flattery aside, the threat of being murdered by his lover posed a fairly unpleasant way to be brought from his rest, so Astarion was forced to act fast. 

You had spent the night with your wrists tied up while he watched over you, ensuring that you faced no harm. On the next morning you were yourself again, but the whole ordeal had left its mark on both of you.

And that was another thing about you: despite being the kindest person Astarion had ever met, you were also the only one that was cursed to unwillingly bring a great deal of murder and despair into this world. 

Those violent urges would occasionally infest your mind with a strong yearn to kill and destroy. Gruesome thoughts, suddenly engulfing you with malicious intent - their origin unknown to you. When you resisted them, they would usually fade as quickly as they came, leaving you with a throbbing headache.

One might say that those were not exactly the best circumstances for a blossoming relationship, but Astarion was not particularly impressed by such assumptions. In fact, he had learnt that there was a certain comfort in sharing the burden of internal turmoil. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had found himself drawn to you from the moment you had met.

Besides, Astarion was confident that you would find a way to rid yourself from these aggravating compulsions for good. After all, he had promised you on that fateful night - and even if he might exaggerate at times, he had meant every single word.

A light breeze rustled through the trees and brought him back from his thoughts. He sat next to his tent with a book in his hands and relished the last beams the sun would offer that day. The warmth was pleasant on his skin, especially after the long march that was behind him.

You and the rest of your companions had left the shadowlands a few days ago and were now heading towards Baldur’s Gate. After hiking through dense forests and small villages, you had decided it was time to make camp and continue your travels after dawn.

It was unusually quiet today. Perhaps the others were taking some time for themselves as well, he thought. You would probably gather around the fire later this evening, sharing some tales over a bottle of wine or discussing the next steps lying ahead of you. 

Astarion let his gaze wander, back from the other tents to a more secluded spot, where he found you. You were sitting in the grass, holding one arm out in front of you with a loaf of bread beside your feet. A small bird with bright orange feathers was fluttering excitedly around you. It seemed like you were about to toss it some crumbs, and it was impatiently waiting to get its beak full.

Astarion rolled his eyes. Typical. You would probably even share your food with some random animal if it meant starving yourself. 

Then again, it was also kind of adorable, he thought as his lips inevitably turned into a grin.

As he continued to watch you from afar, he realised that something was off about you. You weren't moving at all. 

That was odd. 

Your arm looked too stiff, slightly cramped even, and as he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he could see that your hand was clenched into a fist. It was as if you were forcing yourself to hold the position.

Astarion’s senses immediately sharpened.

He got up with haste, carelessly tossing his book aside and lunged towards you while calling out your name.

This was bad.

Uneasiness spread over his body like a rash, before he could even pinpoint what was going on with you. 

“My love, are you al-” The sentence stuck in his throat as he finally came to see you up close.

Your mouth was twitching, contorting your soft features into a grotesque grimace. You looked nothing like your usual self.

Astarion had seen this expression on you before.

His thoughts started to race, as he prepared himself to force you to the ground if necessary. He had no rope on him to restrain you, but in lack of a better solution his laces would have to do.

In any case, he would not let that thing take control over you.

He reached for your shoulder, bracing himself for the worst - but before he could grab you, your features already started to relax.

You must have snapped out of it. This was you again. 

You let your stiffened arm hang down and opened your fist, spilling the remaining crumbs on the floor. Instead of picking them up, the bird hastily flew away. Even the creature must have sensed that something was off.

Astarion let himself sink next to you in the grass and sighed. The danger had passed, it had not taken you.

“I wanted to feed it, I swear,” you explained between quivering lips. “But - my wretched brain almost made me kill this poor little thing.” Your hands were trembling, a deep misery resonating within your words.

A thick lump formed in Astarion’s throat as he noticed tears started to glisten in your eyes.

“I know, my love,” he said and rested his hand on your shoulder. “But remember, this isn’t you. And you brought the bird no harm.”

You swallowed hard and fixated him with your gaze. 

“Yes, this time. But what if I couldn’t have stopped myself? What if I would have killed it - just like that, without any other reason than my sick thoughts ordering me to?”

“Well, in that case…, “ Astarion replied and tapped his chin, “I assume Gale would have served you some poultry tonight. And I would’ve been glad to depend on blood for a chance, since you’d probably have to fight over that unfortunate little thing. I mean you have to admit, to fill the stomachs of our dear friends you should have aimed for something more substantial to mangle.” 

Astarion was no fool. This wasn’t just about you hypothetically killing that bird. Your urges evidently didn’t spare other living beings as well - including himself. This was serious, and yet he felt the need to cheer you up over some silly remark, as you would often find solace in your shared banter. While it was certainly not his best attempt to brighten the mood, it was an attempt nonetheless.

To his satisfaction, you huffed a quick chuckle that finally caused the tears in your eyes to spill over. 

“You’re pretty macabre, you know that?” you scolded and slightly shook your head.

“Am I now? Darling, I’m hurt,” he exclaimed in exaggerated dismay, before a genuine fondness took over his voice. “But honestly, I’m truly proud of you. I can only imagine the force that overwhelms you in those moments, and yet… You’ve proven more than once that you’re stronger than this.” He let his fingers gently brush over the wetness covering your cheeks. 

The gravity of the situation appeared to reclaim you with pressing weight, wiping off the faint smile at his clumsy attempt. You turned your head away from him.

“Astarion… I understand if you would hate me for this.” It was no more than a mumble coming from you, but enough to take Astarion aback. 

He gave his answer fast, almost instinctive.

“No, I could never hate you.” 

It was true. That he could never, not when there was so much about you to love. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud to you, not yet at least. 

Instead, a tight knot formed in his chest, as he watched your eyes focusing the space between your feet while you let out a quiet sob.

“My love, look at me.” He spoke softly as he reached out for you. With the utmost tenderness, he cupped your face in his hands and made your eyes meet his. “The other night, when you almost drenched my curls in a veil of the beautiful red of my blood, I made you a promise. You remember, don’t you?”

You nodded with your face still resting between his slender hands, as another quiet sob spilled from your lips. 

“Good. And I mean it still. We will get you through whatever the hells this is. We are in this together.” 

His voice trembled despite the honesty that fueled his words. Astarion had no intention to abandon you, the same way you had sworn to help him with his own demons. But this was not about him, this was about you.

You shifted a little closer and wrapped your arms around him - tentatively, almost hesitant at first, until you drew him into a tight embrace.

Your body was warm and pleasant against his, and he would let you hold him - not only because you needed this, but because he wanted to.

“It's okay my sweet, I’ve got you,” he whispered while he cradled you in his arms and let his lips graze against your temple.

Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt while he breathed words of comfort over the sobs that escaped your throat. 

For now, there was no need for anything else, only him holding you while you cried.

Had he not already sworn to rid you of this affliction, he would tell you over and over again like a broken record, until he made sure that every inch of your body was certain about it.

Eventually you would clear your throat and look up to him. Your face was still wet from your tears, but there was also a glimmer of hope to be found. 

“Thank you. For believing in the good in me, I mean. Despite all of this.” 

“Well, who else would I believe in if not my brave little fool over here?” Astarion said and put a quick kiss to your hair. “Besides, I have no intention of dying again, so ridding yourself from this murderous condition might align with that rather splendidly.”

Your lips curled to a smile, only to be immediately disrupted by a pained groan that left your mouth and made you wince in Astarion’s arms.

“How bad is it?” he asked with concern as he glanced at you.

Another wince. “Honestly? Like my skull was split open with an axe,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “But it’s not the worst I ever had. I’m sure it’ll pass any minute.”

You pushed your fingers to your eyes and stretched your neck upwards, causing Astarion to doubt your words.

He knew that those headaches came with your affliction. Sometimes they would dissolve rather quickly, other times they got so worse that you had to lie down and he would fetch you a cloth drenched in the coldest water he could gather. 

The urgent need to comfort you rose in him again, so he put his hands on your face and slowly pulled you towards him until he could feel your breath on his skin. Then he carefully rested his brow against yours.

That was the best he could think of for now. He closed his eyes and felt your familiar warmth spreading onto him, hoping that he would spend you some soothing coldness.

You remained like this for a moment, the only sound coming from your steady breath. 

Astarion eventually lifted his brow and placed the softest kiss on its former place, right where he assumed your pain was sitting. With his hands, he reached for the back of your neck, giving it a gentle massage.

Your eyes remained closed while you let out a silent moan. You seemed to relax from his touch, the dampness on your skin bathing your handsome features in a light shimmer.

There was this sensation again, something Astarion only had with you. A prickling flutter, spreading from his chest all over his body.

What had you done to him that made him so blissfully light and at the same time would completely sweep him off his feet? Had his heart still pumped blood, Astarion was sure it would beat up to his neck right now. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” His adoration made him almost stumble over his words, but he needed you to hear them. 

Then he kissed the tip of your nose, before his lips would finally find yours. You tasted soft and sweet, making him longing to have more of you. Heat rose to his ears as his tongue gently curled around yours, while your hand stroked through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He couldn’t stop his lips from forming a loving smile over your pleasant warmth, before they met yours again for another tender kiss. There was no tadpole, no Cazador, nor the darkness in you. This moment belonged to you and him alone - and every touch was right.

He finished your kiss with another quick peck to your forehead and cleared his throat. “I do rather like that, you know.” 

“That’s pretty convenient,” you whispered with fondness in your eyes, “because I think that actually helped. My head feels light again.” 

“I'm glad,” Astarion murmured with relief. “Is there anything else you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“For now, all I need is your presence,” you replied before resting your hand on his cheek. “Knowing that you'll stay with me.” 

“Of course, my love,” Astarion assured as he graciously sunk against your palm. “You’re not alone in this, you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And it was true. It was a promise, after all.

Masterlist

[indras-wife]

Hi ! I love your blog and your headcanons. Thank you so much for giving us some good Indra content!❤️❤️❤️❤️

I really loved the Indra and the Uchihas waking up in a female body scenarios that you wrote earlier. Those were hilarious !

I was wondering if you could write a scenario where Indra and the Uchihas get bodyswapped with their s/o. I'm curious what their reaction would be- (especially when seeing their s/o maneuvering their body 😂)

Have a nice day ! 💞

Another day and another beautiful request about Uchihas from cute Anon🥹💖Thank you for cute words and for reading my writings. Yall give me so much motivation😭💖💖And I will keep writing about Indra till I die of old age😭💖💖

This time more stuff will be unleashed in this request so hope you are ready cuties💖I decided to add Obito too as a small bonus~ The more the merrier as they say😉🌙💕

Warning: Mature Content, mentions of Self Harm,

Indra

Whoever is making this man go through this will pay for sure. Not only he had to deal with the humiliation of becoming a woman and his family seeing it, but now he found himself in his s/o’s body early in the morning. What is this damn sorcery?

As much as he LOVES his body, he has lots of things to do in his body. And whats worse, he had an important council meeting that morning so he was very worried on how that would happen. His s/o is a smart woman for sure, but there are many things she doesnt know and he cannot have his reputation tarnished.

Busy in his thoughts, he decided to walk around the house, since his s/o lives alone. This allowed him to not be worried about someone seeing him and speaking. His s/o was a very chatty person, while he generally dislikes having conversations, be it long or short. He walked outside, admiring the beautiful sunrise but something grabbed his attention at the corner of his eyes. His s/o’s laundry…more specifically her panties that she hanged to dry

Indra loves his s/o’s style as it suits her perfectly. She goes for the aesthetic pink and nude colours, which make her features be more appealing to the eye. Her undergarments are the same: pink or nude, sometimes even black but not always. Seeing her clothes and remembering that he is in her body, he smirked slightly at the brilliant idea in his head.

He went back to her room and stood in front of a mirror. He has already seen her body many times, it was nothing new for him, but for some reason he had this big urge to inspect her body that was now his(hopefully temporary). The beautiful pastel pink colored robe was slowly untied, revealing her body underneath is. This caught Indra by surprise because he never thought he s/o was sleeping naked. He recommended it few times to her, but she absolutely refused to hear him. Maybe she decided to see what Indra meant by saying her to sleep naked, just to see the benefits of it.

Not focusing too much on the nakedness under the robe, Indra wasted no time in touching the blessed body he was in. Her boobs felt somehow softer when he touched them, and every small detail on her body that he somehow did not notice was right in front of him. His favourite marks of her body were the mole on her boob and her birthmark on her belly, both of which he loved seeing every time.

“I have some stretch marks…I am so ugly..” Indra remembered his s/o complaining about those marks, reaching to touch them on her inner thighs. Those marks made her very self-conscious of her appearance, not wishing to expose herself to him. But Indra loved those marks more than anything. He believes that stretch marks are just a proof that you are healthy. Contrary to his girlfriend’s belief, who thinks stretch marks are result of her gaining weight, Indra believes that stretch marks are result of her being in her final phase of maturity.

The more he looked and touched, the more he wanted to keep going. His mind was replaying their late nights love-making in the forest, how pure and sweet everything was. He started to feel warm and tingly especially between his legs. Is this what she feels…? His hand moved to his new body’s clit, fingers already skill fully playing with it. He always wondered what she felt when his fingers were inside her or when he was rubbing her, and now seemed he had the chance to feel what she felt. Of course, he would also use this playtime to understand her body better and give her the pleasure she deserves. As skillfull as he was, Indra believed there’s always place for improvement.

Madara

Soft pillows and his s/o’s scent all around him when he was waking up. One thing Madara loved the most was how sweet she smelled and now he could smell her as if she was right…there. Wait… He quickly opened his eyes realising that he didnt spend the night at his lover’s room so…why did the bed smell like her? No intimacy happened last night too…He quickly got up and…ah there was the catch. He could smell her scent because he was in her body… “Damn it..!” he said angrily, looking at him weirdly. He did not want to believe that this was actually him, that he for some unexpected way is in his s/o’s body.

This sort of adventure is not in his calendar. He was tired of the previous experience, but this is new level that he both hates and loves. Madara does not speak about this often but being next to his s/o is an undying desire. He made a wish last night to be closer to her, and maybe the heavens decided to do what he asked…? But they did it the wrong way. Seeing how the house was still asleep, he decided to dress up and leave the house as soon as possible. His destination? Of course the Uchiha compound, to see if his s/o is in his body or no.

His s/o, being more feminine, did not have many choices of pants and shirts as her closet was filled with beautiful kimonos and obis. But he had no time and no desire to look as beautiful as his s/o, so he grabbed whatever he could and ran out of the house. Of course, he stumbled into another issues as he could not be fast in this body or jump on the trees, since his s/o’s body is pretty fragile. So he had to walk as fats as his legs could carry him.

He went to the compound, entering it from the secret passage Izuna and his use often. Luckily for them no one discovered it yet so they could still use it. He went upstairs to his room quietly, opening the door fast and walking in.

“ Y/n, if you have my body we need to …” his words slowly died in his mouth from the scene in front of him. He saw himself laying on the futon, eyes closed and his cock in his hand. S/o, who undoubtedly was in his body, was enjoying herself..maybe even too much…She was so gone in pleasure that him entering the room and speaking did not startle her.

Madara, who was more than intrigued at this, stood by the door, watching his girlfriend enjoy his body. He could not blame her for pleasuring herself, after all its only natural that a body switch makes one intrigued to understand the new body they are in. Every touch feels foreign and new and one thing leads to another.

“Enjoying yourself I see…” he spoke, making Y/n stop her pleasurable activity. She did not notice how he or…she herself came in the room, but she was glad Madara was there. She knew what was waiting, seeing the fire in his eyes. “Yes..I am…Join me love…”she spoke, her voice full of desire.

She did not need to say anything else, as Madara was already taking his clothes off, throwing them on the floor without care and walking to her. Having his body switched was not a very desirable thing for him, but he was not against having this happen to him often. It gave him the chance to see and experience things differently now. He gained the knowledge of what sex felt for his s/o, how her body reacted to every touch and how different the feeling are for her.

Nevertheless, he decided to stop thinking about ways to switch their bodies back, as now he had another thing to take care of: his horny girlfriend.

Izuna

Out of everything that has happened to them, Izuna was not waiting for his body to be taken over by s/o. He had the opportunity of becoming female, but his body being switched with his girlfriend….was out of his imagination. He knew every part, every inch of her body so having her body as his own for some days was not as exciting as he thought.

But his genius brain came up with a very romantic idea. He grabbed a piece of paper and feather pen, dipped it in ink and started writing. He was sure that his idea now would uplift his girlfriend who has been little moody lately because of a small weight gain. Izuna knew how fixated she is on her weight, thanks to her family members who continuously remind her of every small weight change.

His girlfriend has been going through this abusive diet changes as long as he remembers: she would starve herself, eating only once in a day. This also impacted her self-esteem, as with every insulting comment from her family members made her feel unworthy and ugly. She even tried breaking up with Izuna once, claiming he deserved someone more beautiful than her, but Izuna stopped her, reassuring her that she is the most beautiful for him.

After spending a good hour or two on writing, he folded the piece of paper, put it in his kimono sleeve and exited the house. He was able to master his girlfriend’s way of responding to her family so when they asked him where he was going, a short and god explanation followed: “Going for a walk, It helps me lose weight”

He walked gracefully, not wanting to tarnish his girlfriend’s reputation as one of the most beautiful women out there. He was getting more comfortable in her body the more he walked, which he loved to experience. His woman was a truly blessed one when it came to her curves as she was curvy in all the right places. As he walked and reached the compound, he noticed her standing, in his body of course.

They quickly excused themselves and went to a more private room, to talk and discuss about their future doings regarding their situation. Izuna, who did not care much about switching their bodies back, took the piece of paper out of his kimono.

“My love…listen to me okay. It is sad we have this situation at our hands, but there’s something more important I am willing to tell you. I know how long you struggle with you self-image, how much you think that the toxic nonsense your parents told you is true. But its not. This switching of our bodies allowed me to do what I longed to do so long, which is prove that you are perfect. Here, take it and read this. Its for you” he said smiling. His girlfriend looked at him all puzzled, unable to form any sentence. She was in his body, but she could not help feeling nervous, a trait that Izuna does not seem to possess.

She took the paper, opened and started reading it slowly. Izuna took his time praising her and mentioning how beautiful and just amazing she is, how her body is gorgeous and does not require any change, how she should not listen to whatever her parents have to say, because as his future wife, she is perfect. Reading all of this brought tears to her face, a sense of happiness and fulfilment. They both hugged each other, his girlfriend thanking him for such words and reassurance. This was of course only the small percentage of what Izuna could do. However, as small as this gesture was, he was happy that he made his girlfriend happier.

Obito

Obito and his girlfriend do not know each other that much as others. They met each other on a mission, with Obito nearly killing her. To his own surprise, he decided not to and let her go. Soon he found Y/n following him around like a cat. He did not like it at first, but slowly came to terms with it.

Their relationship took years to bloom, starting with friendship. They had had rough pasts, both of them experiencing many traumatising events which made them close their hearts to the world. However, with small talks here and there, they opened up, talking about themselves and their goals.

Obito was usually busy with running errands behind shadows for Akatsuki, while his girlfriend was doing missions entrusted to her by Obito. They loved working together because not many words were exchanged yet they understood each other even from one glance: a rare type of connection.

This connection would prove to get only stronger when one day they woke up in each other’s bodies. A terrifying experience to say the least, considering they both had different activities for the day and could not do them without being in their bodies. While they both were trying to find a way to return to their original bodies, Obito on his end decided to slow down that thought because of some marks he noticed all over his switched body

The marks were obviously self-harm ones, which faded now and only the scars remained. He never noticed them before. In fact, he never even thought Y/n harmed herself. She was a very closed person and he simply did not care to ask. A stupid decision from his side he thinks. Upon looking into his body more, he saw more marks on her legs. These were fresh for sure, as they were still bloody.

Seeing those scars over her body made Obito sad. Why was she doing this to herself..? Why didnt he ever notice anything? Why he never asked her any questions about her pain as she was doing to him, He was treating her like a therapist, talking about his issues only. A selfish move by him for sure he thought. He had to talk to her, about maybe everything he felt which was anger, sadness and disappointment.

After a day, when Y/n finally figured out how to use Obito’s teleportation, was able to locate him and teleport her body to him. To her happiness he was where she last was: her hideout which was a small cave in the deep forest. Her legs took her to him when she suddenly stopped. He was sitting on the ground, eyes closed and head leaning on the wall. His fingers were tracing the scars of his arm, something that Y/n did not want to expose to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your..self-desturction habit Y/n” he spoke. Taking off the mask she was wearing, she walked to him. “I did not want to burden you with my problems Obito. You already had…enough to worry about. My struggles are mine only. Also I stopped doing that so there is no reason to tell you” she spoke. Of course she was not fooling him with her lie, because she knew he saw the new cuts too.

“Liar. You keep cutting yourself..you did NOT stop. Just why didnt you tell me damn it…”he arose to his feet. Of course in her body he wasnt as tall as she was now, but his energy was dominating even in that short body. She knew that she had no way out, so her only resolve was telling him about the reasons she started self harming. It was because of her abusive childhood. As a war orphan, she grew up in the streets which were full of evil people, looking to take advantage of anyone they met. She became a victim of those people, who took her with them, teaching her the skills she knew now. Of course, they were not nice and were abusive towards her, beating her and even one of them sexually abusing her for years. Self harm was her way out of the mental and emotional pain she was feeling, turning them to physical one.

Obito was hearing her talk, feeling guilty with each second for never caring to ask her about herself, about why she was always wearing outfits that covered her arms and legs completely even when it was too hot outside. He felt stupid even. When Y/n finished talking, he couldnt think of ong anything else but hugging her and saying sorry for being ignorant to her pain. He never thought that he would feel sympathy for someone, but his heart ached for that woman. They both were similar in experiencing so much pain and for becoming the damaged adults they were.

After Y/n’s stories, the two became much closer and shared more detail about them. They felt that the compant the other person was providing was comforting and making them feel human again. A feeling they both longed to experience. Obito now swore to himself to be there for her always and to look after her, hoping to help her escape the constant self harming attempts. The tragic experience brought them closer and closer, resulting in the petals of love blooming between them. Obito found a new reason to live on and Y/n found someone who would be for her always. They did not even think about their bodies. All that mattered was that they are together.

[thedevilspearl]

author’s note ʚɞ i’m testing the waters with this one so please be kind about it. please also excuse the pet name sugar tits, i think it’s hot don’t judge me >_<

tags ʚɞ 5.6k words, dark content, mammon x female reader, bully!mammon, dubcon (forced consent), non–consensual photo taking, semi–public sex, (public) groping, blowjob, degradation, name calling, praise, pet names, humiliation kink, breeding kink, dacryphillia. minors do not interact!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀᴍᴍᴏɴ and his antics. it’s beyond ridiculous at this point. never did you imagine becoming his target but when you think about it long enough, you realise your whole existence in the devildom was set up to be a laughing stock from the beginning.

back when you had just arrived, he acted as your tour guide but then forced you to cover his dinner duties at home. he helped you with your homework since you were new to the subjects but demanded you pay him back with all of your saved grimm. he even lent you some of his friends to help curb your homesickness only to have them report back every little detail so he could blackmail you later on.

and those kind of things happen when he’s being nice; unfortunately for you, mammon is very rarely nice. not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to make your life hell.

mammon, the avatar of greed, the second eldest of the powerful demon brothers, and as he likes to call himself, your first man, rarely shows kindness towards you unless he can gain something from it.

even if he gets nothing in return, he will go out of his way. from tripping you up in hallways to stealing your possessions, and forcing you to complete his homework to treating you like his lackey. anything and everything he does is in some way or another intended to bring you misery.

you’ve grown accustomed to being pushed around and laughed at for the sake of some demon’s entertainment, but there’s something else you’ve also grown used to.

the fact is, mammon gives you more attention than he gives anyone, even himself. and it’s a delusional way to think but it helps you cope with your sorrowful life in the devildom.

you’ve considered confiding in someone; surely the bullying would cease if diavolo found out mammon was harming the student exchange programme like this. but at the end of the day, mammon held more power over you than diavolo himself.

each and every decision you make, reluctantly or otherwise, gives him more power as the days go by. because you have no other choice but to go along with it; and if you don’t want to, he’ll simply blackmail you.

a while ago, you became incredibly close to knocking on lucifer’s door and confessing everything after mammon snapped pictures of you showering and threatened to post them if you didn’t do what he said. lamentably, you gave up on the effort.

if lucifer found out, he would have punished mammon. and after that, you have no doubt mammon would come after you with those big threats again. and you’ve never been in a position strong enough to fight back against him.

the pathetic little human, the bane of his life. yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you. demons are inherently evil creatures, that is a known fact. but after coming to the devildom, you learned demons are, in fact, not all monster.

they have bodies that look human and thoughts and feelings which may be questionable at time but still similar enough to the people in your own world to make you think wait a minute, they’re not all bad.

but that was before mammon revealed his irrational hatred for you. it has nothing to do with him hating humans or those weaker than him and everything to do with his dark, twisted infatuation with you. he’s the definition of cruel and demonic and you feel his animosity deep in your bones, now more than ever.

you don’t know how he did it, but staring at an empty locker where your rad uniform should be sitting boils your blood.

filled with fury, you storm out of the changing rooms in search of the demon.

mammon had already shrunk your sports kit by turning up the temperature when they were getting washed so your usually loose–fitting shorts cling to your thighs and butt. and after getting caught in the rain five minutes ago, you rushed inside to change your sodden white shirt.

but you were foolish to think things would go your way and now you’re storming through rad’s hallways with shorts riding up your ass and your bra fully visible under the wet shirt clinging to you. you’re overflowing with so much rage that you don’t care about the demons eyeing you in the tight clothes or licking their lips as you rush past them.

you spot your nemesis at the end of the hallway and for a moment, your heart stops beating. inhaling deeply, you build the courage to storm up to the white–haired demon.

he’s surrounded by his cronies, laughing at some sleazy joke that came out of his mouth and he refuses to look at you despite you standing in front of him. you know he knows you’re there. but in mammon fashion, he publicly humiliates you once again by completely ignoring you.

meanwhile, a small crowd of hungry demons gathers around you and your heart patters, shying under their interested eyes. but now is not a time to show weakness. now is the time to finally put mammon in his place, which is rather ironic since his place is among the strongest beings in all three realms and you are but a measly human.

“hey!” you shout and he rolls his eyes before finally turning to look at you.

just the sight of him infuriates you, but you’re not sure if the heat growing in your core is rooted from fury or from the way his eyes rake up and down your body. he blue orbs fall to your feet and slowly rise, taking in every detail of your frame.

little do you know, the shape of your body has him salivating. his eyes linger at your thighs, so thick and plush; your hips, so curvaceous and delicious; your tits, so tempting with your perky nipples poking through and your lacey bra visible under the wet shirt.

the tip of his tongue runs under his fangs before wetting his lips as they inch up one side of his face. as attractive as his smirk is, you want to slap it right off his face.

“what’s up, sugar tits?” he quirks his brows, nodding his head to notion the attention he has for the state of your chest, hence the nickname.

you follow his gaze downwards, fully grasping how much of your breasts were on display. you gasp, covering them but it does nothing to hide your entire ass also being showcased.

damn, mammon thinks. you might as well not be wearing any underwear with how tightly your shorts are pressed against your pussy. he can see everything.

“i knew ya were a desperate little thing,” mammon taunts. “but i didn’t think you’d be so dumb to come beg for me in front of everyone.”

“i didn’t come to beg!” you yell, cowering as the crowd fills with laughs and jeers.

“then what did ya come for?” mammon rolls his eyes.

“i came here to…”

“….to what?” mammon steps closer. his scent is intoxicating as it surrounds you. “ya came here to yell at me, the great mammon?”

“n-no….” you mutter, suddenly afraid of his close proximity. with ever step forward he makes, you take one back which ends with your back against the wall and his big frame caging you against it.

he creates a little cave between your bodies that holds barely enough air for you to breathe. just like always, he controls you in any situation. if he doesn’t want you to breathe, he will simply steal all the air you could possibly breathe. and that means locking you tightly between his body and the wall will suffocate you as much as he wants it to, regardless of your pleas for forgiveness.

“i’m sorry....i–i shouldn’t have yelled at you....i didn’t mean to.”

whatever flattery you have in your tone fails to do the job as he closes in, the space between you negligent while you try to figure out a way to escape.

but as your body heats up from mammon forcing proximity, his hands begin to roam your body and you lose the ability to think straight.

“aww, the little human’s blushing. ya like me being this close?” you whimper against him, but he leans in to your ear and whispers, “want me to touch you?”

a quiet but still audible gasp drifts to his ears and he reigns in the delicacy of the sound. such a sweet, pretty sound. he simply needs to hear it again.

“you do, don’t you?” he chuckles lowly. “just say the words and i’ll do it.”

despite every cell in your brain rooting against you, you quietly whisper back to him, “please.... please touch me.”

a rumble sounds in his chest, growling from the pleasure of you inviting him to touch you. the heat radiates from your body, your desperation oozing from your pores. and there’s something else coming from your body, something you’re so ashamed to admit.

mammon’s teasing alone is enough to create wetness between your legs and succumbing to his dominance has your pussy producing more arousal with each throb of your lips.

“ah!” you gasp as a large hand cups your breast. you push his arm away but it only tightens his grip on it. “mammon....”

“these are some sweet tits, mc. shame ya hid ’m from me for so long.”

you have no chance to protest as he moves onto the next, grabbing both your breasts and squeazing hard. you cry out, hoping it would signal for help but it comes out as a moan instead, arousing the audience further.

every demon wants a piece of you, but mammon lays his claim on your body by roaming every inch of it, grabbing every bit of flesh as if it’s the only thing keeping him sane, which might well be true.

with the way he kneads your ass between his rough fingers, you’re just about ready to submit to him completely, to sacrifice your entire body to him so he can have his way and be satisfied.

“fuck,” mammon grumbles as his hands slide lower; you moan and whimper, embarrassed by your helpless position. there’s no way you can come back from this, not when mammon’s hand cups your pussy, rubbing up and down to bring you the relief you so desperately needed. and to his surprise, he finds more than what he expected. “look at that! she soaked through her panties and her shorts.”

“it’s your fault they’re so tight on me....”

“but it’s your fault that you’re this fucking wet,” he reminds you, and you back down with a heavy blush. “you’re the one getting turned on by this, sicko.”

he continues groping you, fondling your tits and squeezing your ass before his hand moves to your front and cups your tight pussy over and over again. you find what energy you have in you to hide your moans but it’s a failed attempt. as quiet as they are, he still hears them.

“fuck,” he groans into your ear, and whispers so no one else can hear his filthy voice. “wanna fuck this pussy so bad.”

“d-don’t….” you whimper, but your resistance earns a harsh grip on your ass. his fingers dig deep into your flesh, sure to leave behind bruises. “stop....”

“hah? you’re telling me, the great mammon, no? darlin’, ya already know how that’s gonna turn out.”

your gaze is blurred by tears — from embarrassment, from shame, from arousal. you can barely understand the plethora of sensations in your body but you do know that mammon touching you is so wrong even if it feels so right.

it confuses you so much that you can’t stop your hand from rising and colliding with his face. at least your gut instincts are still working. you push him away in the moment he is stunned and your palm stings from the slap.

the entire right side of his face burns red as he holds it.

“the fuck?!” he growls, bearing his fangs at you. “you fucking hit me?”

the crowd gasps and mutters as he dives towards you with his fists raised. you brace for impact, ready to be slammed into the wall. he’s never hurt you so badly before, but today just happens to be the day where all lines are crossed.

you gasp, holding up your hands to protect your face but as if time has frozen, you don’t feel the impact coming. when you finally breathe and look up, mammon looks down at you with raging eyes and a contorted face — as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to do.

before you can even think to question why he stopped himself, the two demons you least expect to see appear, parting the crowd as they arrive: lucifer, with diavolo trailing behind him.

“what is the meaning of this?” diavolo bellows, his eyes draping down your form.

lucifer’s cheeks burn, not from blushing but rather, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. “what on earth are you wearing?”

regret floods you as you remember your position in their household. and you’ve brought shame onto the brothers for flaunting yourself around rad dressed in what might as well be underwear.

diavolo’s voice is a bit more kind towards you, but he’s definitely pissed. “i’m going to assume you aren’t aware of the dress code within these walls, mc. might i remind you that dressing inappropriately will result in punishment. as will attacking another student. you will both receive detention effective immediately.”

“it was mammon—”

“stop your sputtering,” lucifer snaps. “go change this instant.”

“but….my uniform was stolen.”

“by who?”

you glance slyly to the white–haired demon beside you and your heart hammers. you could tell lucifer now, tell him everything that mammon has ever done to you. but mammon’s death glare scares you. not because of what he might do to you if you snitch, but how you’ll feel if he is ordered to never interact with you again.

you’re sure diavolo would put a stop to the bullying straight away, maybe even move you out of the house of lamentation. but that means you’ll see less of mammon and despite how much you hate him, you’ll feel lonely without his constant unwarranted attention.

“never mind,” you mutter. “i’ll find it.”

you arrived to detention on time, not wanting to anger lucifer any further. thankfully, the eldest had figured out it was mammon who stole your uniform and had him return it. the classroom is empty save for your sorrowful soul.

you hope mammon doesn’t come. he skips detentions just like he skips classes so you’re happy to have some time alone to calm down before heading home.

but as your luck would have it, the demon struts in, spotting you in your seat before striding over to sit beside you.

“you can sit anywhere in the room but you choose to sit next to me?” you scoff. “i thought you were supposed to hate me.”

“i do.”

“then why are you sitting next to me?”

mammon won’t allow that, though. he’s in control. whatever fantasies you have of him being soft and affectionate with you are over the seconds he decides them to be and right now, he puts an end to them by slipping his hand under your blazer and cupping your breast.

“so i can do this.” mammon raises his hand, slowly but it’s still concerning. his fingers brush your hair away from your face and your mind spins from the action. his thumb creeps closer, brushing the soft, sensitive skin of your lips.

you’re afraid to look at him, to see the gentleness hidden beneath his mean facade knowing that you’d fall for it in an instant.

you were beginning to feel the phantom of his touches from earlier, which is nothing if not the biggest red flag. but having his hand places on them again, fondling them eagerly is infinitely better than the memories of his corroding touch.

every second which passes with his hands on you, another part of you is corrupted by him and those few sacred, untouched parts rebel against all odds and finally give you some self–restraint and control.

“don’t touch me!” you whack his arm away and scoot over to the next chair, embarrassed that you almost fell for him again. every single time he teases you with niceties and gentle gestures that border flirtation, you find yourself hoping that it might be real.

but he’s just playing with you like he always has. he wants nothing more than to make you feel like a fool under his charms. your humiliation is food to him.

“come on, you said it was fine earlier. let me do it again.”

“no,” you say firmly. “i don’t want you to touch me anymore.”

mammon huffs. “suit yourself.”

hopefully with a seat between you, he’ll put an end to his interest in you and ignore you just like you’re ignoring him.

but choosing to ignore him would be your biggest mistake because when you glance over, in the corner of your eye you see on his ddd a photo of you naked in the shower. your body jolts at the sight of it.

“what the hell, mammon?!” you scream. “what are you doing?”

“gonna post it on devilgram, duh.”

“wait, mammon! don’t!” you try grabbing for his phone but he yanks your arm away from it and pushes you away.

“come on,” he whistles. “show me your tits.”

“what....”

he threatens you by holding his thumb over the post button. “didn’t want me to touch you, well now you gotta do what i say or i’ll post ’em”

“please, mammon. don’t do this.”

“nuh-uh. you should be on your knees begging me if you want me to stop.”

an inhumane noise releases from your throat. you’re not quite sure what it was — a growl of frustration, a beg for help? you’ll bever know because you’re too busy sinking to your knees pleading for mercy.

“not yet,” mammon stops you before your knees graze the ground. “get your tits out first.”

“what?”

“fuck, how many times do i need to say it?” he stares at you, demanding your obedience and you slowly rise, shamefully removing your blazer. “that’s better.”

his demonic blue–gold eyes cut through your skin and you unbutton your shirt one button at a time, shrugging it off so it falls down your shoulders but still hooked on your elbows. mammon salivates at the sight of your pretty chest.

he’s been waiting to see them since he saw you earlier, but fuck. this is the real deal. your breasts sit nicely in their lacey cups and just like a few hours ago, your slutty nipples poke through.

his hand immediately goes to his crotch and palms himself. you feel sick, disgusted but the way his hand moves against himself and his reddening cheeks turns you on. you try to look away from him, but you simply cannot do so.

“c’mere,” mammon mutters and with the phone in his hand ready to post your nude pictures, you do as he says. “get on your knees.”

when they touch the ground, your body shudders and you settle in front of him. there are no words to describe the way he looks down at you. you almost feel like it’s a blessing to be looked at by him at all.

“take my dick outta my pants.”

“what?”

“are ya dumb or something? take my fucking dick out of my pants.”

you can tell his patience is running thin and you don’t dare to test him further when he waves his ddd in front of your face. you reach up with shaky hands to unzip his pants but he stops you again.

“do it with your mouth.”

what kind of fantasies must he be having to order you to do such a thing? well, they’re the fantasies you play a part in and you’ll play them out exactly as he desires for your own wellbeing, lest the entire devildom see pictures of you naked.

taking the metal zip between your teeth, you pull it down. the button is more difficult to undo but you get there in the end despite mammon cackling at your struggle. next, you bite the fabric before dragging it down his thighs.

the sheer size of his cock amazes you and the ghost of it fills you up just by looking at it. your body is begging for him to be inside you, and you pray he’ll never find out. he ushers you to keep going and in the same way, you pull down his boxers, looking him dead in the eyes as you drag them down with your teeth.

he hisses as his cock is freed, letting it bounce as it twitches to life. cum oozes from his tip and you mindlessly lick your lips.

“suck it.” he says and reluctantly, you inch forward, taking his tip between your lips. your tongue swipes over it, tasting his cum that you can only describe as the only substance you’ll need to survive on from now on.

“fuck,” he groans. “your slutty mouth feels so fucking good.”

your pussy throbs each and every time he calls you a slut no matter how much you hate it and he inspires you to take him deeper in your mouth in hopes of him calling you it again. his fat cock fills your cheeks and you move back and forth, tongue running along his shaft.

he’s thick and hard, too big to fit in your mouth and you can only imagine the size of it tearing your pussy walls apart when he finally finds his home in there.

“ya looked so fucking hot in those shorts,” he grunts. “bet ya loved every minute of it, strutting around like a slut.”

“i’m not,” you mumble around his cock. “i’m not a slut.”

mammon scoffs, somehow able to understand your muffled words while his cock sits heavy in your mouth. he tuts as you pull back, drenching his cock in your saliva. “don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know what a dirty little slut ya.”

“no…”

“every demon in that hallway was looking at ya and all i could smell was your sweet pussy leaking for me. bet they could all smell it too. bet they wanted ya as bad as i do.”

mammon….wants you?

now, that’s not something you ever thought of being a possibility. but as the words slip from his lips, your lower body heats up even more. there is so much desperation growing between your legs and you can’t hold back.

your nimble fingers find their way between your legs and mammon uses his foot to lift up your skirt and peek at the dirty things you do to yourself underneath it. god, your eyes are just so needy for him as he watches your fingers push in and out of your pussy.

the only thing blocking his view are the panties you pulled to the side and he orders you to take them off. it pains you to obey him again but the ache in your belly hurts so much more. if you listen to him well enough, maybe he’ll fill you up and finally put your body at ease.

after all that’s happened, the only thing you want right now is his fat cock stuffing you to the hilt instead of your amateur fingers which do not dare to match the level of pleasure mammon’s cock can give you.

swallowing bitterly, you gently place your soaked panties in the hand he holds out, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs already.

“you’re such a naughty girl, getting wet like this,” he teases, rubbing his thumb over the soggy patch on your panties. “so fucking bad.”

“i’m not!” you move away from him completely and plead on your knees. “i’m good, i’ve been nothing but good to you and you treat me so horribly!”

mammon supposes he should feel bad seeing you cry, but your cute little sniffles and the way your teary eyes look up at him through sodden lashes, well, it does make him feel bad….for what he’s about to do to you.

“aww, baby,” his hand snakes his hand under your chin. your skin burns from the way his fingers feel so right around your neck. his touch is gentle, guiding you up onto your feet and your knees are so weak that you begrudgingly lean on him for support. “i didn’t mean to make ya cry.”

his voice is soft as he feigns a pout while spouting such a lie. making you cry is a reward for mammon. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was getting off on this.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you whimper.

“oh darlin’” he kisses your cheek, nuzzling into your neck. the softness in his voice is foreign, and the gentle graze of his lips teasing your skin is addicting. “do you want me to stop?”

“huh?”

“want me to stop being mean to ya?”

freeing himself from the intoxicating scent of your pulse, he holds his face close to you with a hand on either side of yours, thumbs stroking your hot cheeks and wiping away tears. a sick feeling builds in your stomach, but a desperate, needy ache grows faster and stronger.

and as loud as they both are, you can only listen to one bodily instinct at a time.

nodding slowly, you don’t tear your eyes away from his hoping he will see how pathetic and miserable and desperate you are. you’d do anything if it means he’ll stop harassing you.

mammon’s wide smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he leans in, surprising you when his lips touch yours. your eyes grow to an abstractly large size and you don’t dare to move as he glides his lips against yours.

one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against him and his cock presses into your tummy while the other snakes around your shoulders, grabbing your scalp and holding your head in place. despite your best efforts to push him away, you remain with your lips locked onto his.

they’re both hot and cold at the same time, both gentle and destructive. all of your walls break down as he pries your sorry lips apart, swiping his tongue along them before devouring your mouth whole.

you moan and gasp against him, beating his chest with your fists but he refuses to let you go and to your dismay — or delight, you can’t quite tell — his hips begin moving. he grinds into your body, rubbing his bare cock along your tummy and leaving cum stains on your clothes.

every alarm in your body rings loudly and you lose the ability to breathe. your mind fogs up from the lack of air but you’re sure he’s doing this on purpose, not allowing you a single ounce of it and if one manages to slip past your lips, he steals it right away.

you know how he works. what mammon wants, mammon gets and while he deprives you of oxygen, he’s waiting for you to give in.

he forces his tongue deep in your mouth but the feel of it is new and draws out a deeper beast within you, greed and excitement growing in your core. while his cock ruts against you, your hands find it and you slowly stroke him, spreading his pre–cum along his length.

“that’s it. keep doing that,” he groans, lips only inches apart. “good girl.”

a whimper escapes you as the words roll of his tongue and your pussy erupts in sparks.

“what’s that, huh? you like it when i call you good girl?” biting your lip, you nod eagerly, earning another proud smile from him. “hm, maybe i should keep calling ya it. but then again, you’re nothing but a worthless slut.”

mammon grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes you to the cold, hard ground. before you can wiggle away, he has you locked in place with your arms pinned down at the sides and your legs stretched on either side of his hips.

“mammon!” you yelp. “please, no….”

“dontcha ya want me to stop being mean to ya?” he questions, eyes filled with madness as he yanks down your bra and gropes your breasts. holding you in place as you writhe against him, mammon leans down and takes your nipple between his lips. “i’ll stop if you let me fuck your sweet little pussy. it’s a good deal, ain’t it?”

it’s the most horrific deal you’ve ever heard but you’re beyond reasoning at this point. the two things you desire most — for him to fuck you dumb on his cock and for him to stop bullying you — he can give to you right now. there’s no harm in killing two birds with one stone, right? if he’s going to be mean about it, you’ve no choice but to take it given it’s the only chance you’ll ever have to free yourself from him.

“fuck, your tits are so sweet.” he can’t stop playing with them, squeezing them, slapping them and marvelling at the way they jiggle, then pinching your nipples and pulling them taught before releasing them and taking them in his mouth again.

“ah!” you moan. “mammon, don’t…” but the warmth of his lips is welcomed by your body and you arch into him.

burying his face into your breasts, he sucks and bites for what feels like hours, covering your mounds with bruises and when he rises with a gasp, his lips are covered in his saliva. his mini–makeout session with your breasts makes every hair on your body stand tall, all the while, your pussy leaks onto the ground beneath you.

mammon grabs both of your breasts, blessing each of his hands with their softness and rubs his cock head over your puffy lips.

“fucking sugar tits, alright,” he jokes. “ya like it when i call ya that?”

you shake your head violently but the truth is, you haven’t stopped thinking about it since he called you it earlier. it’s such a ridiculous name, so degrading and obscene. yet, your hole clenches over nothing when he calls you it.

“that’s right, sugar tits. i can feel your pussy throbbing against me.” mammon warns. “you’re gonna cum while i call ya sugar tits, ain’t ya?”

shaking your head again, you cry no’s and stop’s but each of them fly past his ears. but a guttural feeling deep down knows you’re glad he won’t listen. your pussy aches for his cock to fill you up, for your name to roll off his lips while he fucks his cum far into your pussy.

“you want this, don’t ya?”

“no,” you sob.

“don’t lie to me, bitch. you know you want it.”

“i don’t!”

oh, but you do.

you want this more than anything but you’d rather him not know because it would only give him more fuel to ruin you with.

“yes, you fucking do,” he forces the answer for you. his grabs his cock and prods it against your hole. it’s so wet and slippery that he almost falls deep inside but he’s using the last remainders of his control to hear you say the words he’s wanted to hear for so long. “you fucking want this. tell me you want this.”

you whine. struggling against him but he pushes you down with his ungodly strength.

“say it or i’ll post the fucking pictures.”

“i want it!” you yelp, the words blurting out against your will. “please, mammon. i want it!”

“that’s what i fucking thought.”

and with that, mammon pushes himself past your hole, his leaking tip digging its way into your pussy. your legs fly in the air as you feel him stretch your walls unbelievably wide.

“fuck! mammon!”

“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby,” he grunts with each thrust. “i knew ya wanted my cock this bad.”

with each rock of his hips, your body drags against the ground and he pins you down in place again, arms at your side and body spread wide for him. his eyes latch onto your tits bouncing with every thrust.

they mesmerise him, the way they knock up and down with each hard thrust acting as hypnosis for the demon and he grows desperate for release.

“fuck, sugar tits,” you clench at the pet name. it’s so humiliating but it feels so fucking good, as good as his cock battering your insides. “such a fucking slut enjoying my cock like this.”

he spits insult after insult, mocking you for your weakness against him. “nothin’ but a dirty little human desperate for some demon cock, huh? bet that’s why ya let me fuck around with ya for so long, because ya wanted this to happen, wanted me to fill your tiny little hole with my cum. isn’t that right?”

“no,” you shake your head, but you’re quickly met with his hands gripping your face harshly. “i mean, yes! yes i wanted this!”

“keep going….” he ruts harder, knocking your insides in the right way.

“i wanted this for so long, mammon!” you cry. “wanted your cock so bad i let you treat me like dirt all this time!”

“that’s right,” mammon groans. “i’m always fucking right about ya. nothin’ but a slutty little hole for me. gonna fucking breed ya with all of my cum, and no one’s ever gonna touch ya but me.”

“oh!” you moan, relishing in the words spilling from his lips. you know he doesn’t mean anything special by it, but you’re so blissed out from his cock that for a moment, it feels real. you’re his and his only in the empty classroom and you feel….special. “mammon, it’s so good!”

“yeah? my cock’s making ya feel good?”

“yes!”

“fucking hell, sugar tits loves my cock,” he yells for the whole school to hear, laughing at your the way your pussy tightens when he says it. “go on, you say it too.”

“huh?” you whine.

“fucking say it, scream it. need the whole fucking devildom to here ya being a slut for me.”

“but—”

“say it, angel. or ya don’t get to cum,” he grins seeing the desperation in your eyes, so obedient to him just for an orgasm. how much more pathetic can you get? “go on, be a good girl and say it.”

“i….i love mammon’s cock….”

“louder.”

“i love mammon’s cock,” you repeat but he still isn’t satisfied. he thrusts into you particularly harshly, a yelp escaping your lips and you hear his message loud and clear, screaming, “i love the great mammon’s cock!”

“that’s right, sugar tits,” he leans down. “ya gonna cum now?”

you nod fervently, desperate for release. his cock drags along your clenching walls, awakening the hidden sweet spots as your nectar leaks around him. “wanna cum! please!”

“go ahead, baby,” he ruts with a deep groan, coming close to the edge himself. “i’m gonna finish inside your filthy little pussy.”

“hhm,” you moan. “you shouldn’t!”

“but i’m gonna anyway.”

all it takes as one more thrust to feel ropes of mammon’s hot cum spurting out into your pussy. his thumb finds your clit and pinches it, pulls it, then circles it roughly while pushing his cum deeper inside you with his cock. seconds later, ecstasy washes over you and your body loses control, spasming against his cock as you arch deeper into it. your walls are painted white with his cum and his cocks remains sheathed in your pussy as you writhe through your prolonged orgasm.

“fuck!” you squeal. “it feels so fucking good!”

“holy shit,” mammon groans, hissing when he finally pulls out from your hot mess of a pussy. “that was fucking amazing, huh?”

he falls back, watching your body twitch and tremble and his cum pours out from between your legs, giving him the perfect idea. he reaches for his ddd and opens the camera, facing it towards your blissed the fuck out body.

“hey, sugar tits,” you look at him, haunted by the sick grin on his face. “smile for the camera.”

“wait, mammon—”

“shaddup,” he mumbles and seconds later, several snaps of his camera sound. you yelp, covering your chest and closing your legs in a weak attempt. but mammon’s strength is far to superior to yours and he yanks your legs back open. “i gotcha now, angel.”

“what…?”

he snaps several more pictures and even a short film of his cum gushing out of your pussy. “fuck, i could sell these for some real grimm.”

the way his eyes light up terrifies you and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cease to exist. if he did, your life in the devildom would truly be over. you’d have no dignity remaining from what little of it was left anyway.

“you said you’s stop!” you cry. “you promised you wouldn’t mess with me anymore if i let you fuck me!”

“ya didn’t actually believe that, did ya?”

the world comes crashing down on your heavy, aching body and you’re overcome with violent sobbing. all hope is lost; there’s nothing good left for you now. mammon has made sure of that.

“why? why are you doing this to me?”

“because you’re nothing but a worthless slut. but you’re fun to play with, i’ll give ya that.”

every nerve on your body aches with humiliation. and what’s worse is knowing mammon gets off to it every single time.

how could you ever think you would mean something to him? you know your place full and well yet you still strived to be something more to him, when in reality, all you are is a toy for him to play with, a pathetic human designed for him to ruin in every way.

“p-please….” you sob. “please don’t tell anyone.

“that’s right, angel. you better do everything i say from now on, or else the entire fucking devildom is gonna know how much of a greedy slut ya are. fuck, ya were so fucking desperate for me to breed ya.”

your heart collapses into your stomach; you were a fool to ever believe him. his words and his touches twisted their way into your core and you gave into your sickly attraction to him. but what’s done is done and the best you can do now is some damage control.

“y–you won’t show the pictures to anyone….right?”

mammon scoffs with his devilish grin refusing to leave his face. your skin tingles as he glares at you. despite his terrible attention span and low grades, mammon is smart when he wants to be and smart he is by hacking away at all of your strength, leaving you with nothing but weakness and in the position he’s been wanting you in since the beginning.

“i won’t….for a price,” he grins. “what are ya willing to do to stop me from showing ‘em?”

with one question spilling from his lips, your mind shatters upon the realisation that your existence is now in his hands. you swallow, giving up on all of your pride and courage and hoping desperation will help you. and you really hope it will because that’s all you have left.

“anything. i’ll do anything.”

“good,” his eyes are dark like deep water as he leans over you again, engulfing your pitiful body in his scent. your heart races, tears soaking your eyes as you officially sign away your life to him. “because from now on, you’re the great mammon’s personal slut.”

[rainbow-femme]

Thinking too much about AFTG again and I know we rag on Neil for being oblivious but I don’t think Andrew understands for most of the story that Neil likes him back

(FYI I haven’t read all the extra content, Nora may have said something about Andrew’s mindset that contradicts this, I don’t care it’s my literary analysis and I control my interpretation and the only canon that exists is what’s in the books. Also I’m Jewish, and the number one rule is anything can be true so long as you can back it up textually)

You’ve got the whole “I’m not your answer and you sure as fuck aren’t mine” line. By this point two things have happened recently: Neil has become outwardly more emotionally and physically vulnerable, and Neil has shown more interest in spending time with Andrew as well as interest in Andrew in general. And Andrew’s response to this seems to be the assumption that Neil is having a crisis he isn’t sharing and seems to have decided that Andrew is the answer to fixing that crisis. To be fair he is having a crisis, Andrew is just an unrelated benefit.

Which makes sense, most of his relationships are based, at least in Andrew’s mind, on him providing a service in exchange for someone’s presence in his life due to his belief that people will not be around him otherwise. So if Neil is looking at him in an open, appreciative, and interested way he seems to assume it’s because Neil, the terrified guy on the run from something, has found himself enjoying the stability Andrew provides and is seeing being near Andrew as a solution to his problems. That maybe Neil has tricked himself into thinking he has feelings for Andrew because he likes having someone take care of him and that’s the reason, and we see from Andrew stopping the kiss when Neil is upset that he does not consider being interested in someone while emotionally vulnerable to be real consent, therefore if Neil is interested in him due to being upset and afraid that is not Neil actually being interested. He also is clearly very agitated by this first kiss, seeming to see himself as a predator who lost control and harmed Neil by taking advantage of him.

He also continues to do nice things for Neil after getting back, despite initially seeming to express frustration, disinterest, and distaste for Neil. Giving him keys to the car, buying him a new charger, giving Neil the shotgun seat. Andrew’s habit of feeling the need to incentivize the people he cares for to stay with him, as well as what appears to naturally be his love language of giving gifts and acts of service as a replacement for verbally sharing emotions. I’m not saying that when he’s doing nice things it’s for personal gain, but I think part of him feels good doing it and part of him believes this is all he has to offer this person. He got back and didn’t say nice things to Neil because he can’t, but he can quietly take care of Neil in a way that says “please stay with me, I want you to be ok” that he verbally can’t. He knows Neil values the ability to leave upsetting situations, that Neil reacted positively the last time Andrew gave him keys, gives Neil a way to charge his phone ie have a lifeline to safety and Andrew when needed, and he’s saying that he still implicitly trusts Neil with things that are important to him. And of course shotgun means “I want you to be the person who is nearest to me”. He similarly starts making a habit of sitting next to Neil when the team is together. Andrew very much is a cat, he’s going to swat at you but also glue himself to your side

There’s also the various moments where Andrew states out loud that he has an attraction and growing emotional attachment to Neil that he has already written off as impossible. He calls Neil a pipe dream, says he knows nothing will come of having an interest in Neil without having made any attempts to see if Neil is interested. If you follow up a confession of interest with a statement that nothing will happen, you can’t be hurt by rejection because you didn’t give the person a chance to reject you.

And it doesn’t seem like it’s because Andrew is purposely avoiding attachments to people. Most of the effort he puts into his life is in his relationships, specifically into giving people reasons to stay near him. He makes the deals with Kevin and Aaron, he could have gone to a school with a more competitive Exy program but went to one where Nicky and Aaron could come and be on the team and in fact made that a requirement, he proves to Kevin that he made the right choice in making Andrew his shield by attacking anyone who hurts Kevin and putting a target on his own back. Before the start of the books we know he went out of his way to connect with Renee and do things for her that meant a lot to her, things that again seem to represent “I am doing her a favor, therefore she will be more likely to stay.” And anything else could be written off as born again Christian charity rather than acknowledge she has love and care for him.

He doesn’t see an attempt at connecting with Neil to be useless because he has no interest in building relationships with people, if there’s anything Andrew is passionate about it’s building and maintaining relationships with people. He sees it as obviously useless because there’s no way Neil would legitimately want to be with Andrew in the same way that Andrew wants him, that it is impossible to consider Neil reciprocating the way he’s feeling because all he wants is Neil himself and he doesn’t think anyone could just want him and think it’s enough.

Neil says he allowed himself to be abused by the Raven’s for two weeks on the chance he could help Andrew, that he wants to care for Andrew even without any personal benefit, and that is when Andrew calls him a pipe dream. Neil has just said that he, the guy who previously was so terrified for his own safety that he put it above all else, would willingly sacrifice his safety for Andrew. When Neil says this Andrew covers his mouth to make him stop talking, which to me suggests that this revelation was an absolute gut punch to him, that what happened to Neil was not only for his sake but accomplished nothing. Andrew’s reaction to Neil saying this is to say that Neil was supposed to be a side effect of the drugs. Meaning what Neil just said made him feel so strongly for Neil that he previously assumed it could not possibly be something he naturally has the capacity to feel.

(And he stills says that he doesn’t think he could ever have from Neil what he wants. So yeah Neil isn’t the only one who can hear a heartfelt confession and come to the conclusion that the other person is completely uninterested)

Also the whole “there is no this” conversation they loop through a few times. Again, Andrew loves building relationships, but they all are ticking clocks in his head, most of them graduation unless he can come up with something to convince them to stay. And then Neil keeps trying to say that there exists a relationship between them that has not been carefully negotiated with a clear end date, which is probably terrifying to a guy who doesn’t think he can trust anyone unless he is providing them something that makes him more useful around than not.

What Neil is proposing is that Andrew has intrinsic value and his presence is all Neil wants, and that probably seems terrifying and untrue. If Neil isn’t getting a tangible benefit that outweighs any perceived inconveniences, and if there is no point where they “re-up” their contract, then at any moment Neil could change his mind and take this thing away from Andrew. He’s had people he loved decide he’s not worth it, he knows it can happen and how terrible it is to experience. He willingly dealt with Drake and harmed himself to keep Cass, and he still lost her because he in and of himself wasn’t enough to be kept and loved because he wasn’t easy enough to love, he was broken, he was damaged. There can’t be a non transactional relationship between them because Andrew can’t see himself being enough and thinks losing it would be too painful to willingly risk

(Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron also seem to have this same view as Neil in their own way of Andrew’s inherent worth to them. Nicky really deserves more recognition for clawing his way to happiness then willingly giving it all up and upending his life and doing things repeatedly that make him unhappy because he cares so much for Aaron and Andrew, aligning himself against possible friends who could make him happy because he will always choose supporting Andrew over himself. And you have Aaron showing that he will fight Andrew tooth and nail if it means they can have a good and lasting relationship, and we see Kevin form genuine love and affection for Andrew outside of their deal, but again Andrew seems to view the relationships at the time as transactional or obligatory on their ends)

Or my favorite, the scene where Andrew makes a comment about Neil’s “neck fetish.” Neil has kissed his neck only about two times by that point, and both times it has elicited what is clearly a pleasurable response from Andrew. But Andrew can’t accept the idea that Neil is doing something with no benefit to himself and only a benefit to Andrew, that he is choosing to take time away from his own immediate pleasure to do something solely for Andrew’s enjoyment of the moment

Neil responds to the comment by saying “You like it, I like that you like it.” Neil is saying that he cares enough about Andrew to have paid attention to what pleases him and wants to take the time when they’re together to make Andrew feel good in a way that Andrew makes him feel good, that he knows Andrew has trauma with physical touch on most of his body but this is a way he can reciprocate that has no negative connotations for Andrew and serves solely to make him feel good. And Andrew does not or cannot let himself see it that way because it’s too vulnerable.

The sex is supposed to be transactional, this is what Andrew has to offer to make Neil stay with him, uninterrupted time of Andrew making him feel good and asking for nothing in return. Neil is breaking the rules, he’s making it reciprocated, if he is making Andrew feel good then Andrew doesn’t have that safety net of being the one with something to offer. So it has to be something that secretly benefits Neil, it has to be that Neil is getting something out of it or Andrew is back to not having anything special that he offers to make Neil stay with him. If it’s just Neil sitting back while Andrew gets him off then Andrew is automatically the most convenient sexual partner for Neil and he won’t look for someone else. If it’s reciprocal, then it stops being a favor Andrew is doing and takes effort on Neil’s end, as well as means the sex includes Andrew knowing what it’s like to be loved and cared for, which means he will feel it’s absence when Neil inevitably leaves because Andrew isn’t convenient enough.

It honestly seems like the turning point is his conversation with Aaron about breaking their deal, Aaron making him choose their deal or Neil. Because it A. Forces Andrew to see that Aaron intends to stay in his life without the deal, meaning that yes one of the most important people in Andrew’s world loves him without a contract. And B. It forces Andrew into a position where he has to take a leap of faith that Neil isn’t going to just walk away, that Neil sees Andrew the way Andrew sees him. And I wonder if Aaron brought up the conversation he had with Neil, that Neil said he didn’t think Andrew would fight for him, and he realized that Neil not only has been thinking about him the way he was thinking about Neil, but that he had this person in his life that he cared about and he was acting in a way that made that person not feel valued and it could probably cause the very thing he wants to avoid by pushing him away.

So you finally get the very end of the last book where Andrew doesn’t deny it when Neil says Andrew likes him, which is for him incredibly vulnerable. He’s shown that he will always protect Neil without their deal of protection, and Neil has shown that he sees everything about Andrew that other people don’t like and he loves Andrew anyway.

Because the story is from Neil’s point of view we see his internal growth as he learns to recognize and accept love and care from others but Andrew has been doing the same, realizing and trusting that Kevin and his family will still be there even if he has nothing tangible to offer, and accepting that someone could genuinely know and understand him, all the things that make him inconvenient, and still want him with no extra incentive because even as broken as he sees himself to be he still has value to others and he can trust Neil in the way he wants Neil to trust him

[ipowlin]

So we all know that gem and pearl together is a force to be reckoned with. They have intimidated everyone on the server and rightfully so, they do not only have the bark but also a giant bite.

Now pearl. Pearl alone has so much potential.

She uses something that hinders her performance to her advantage, that thing is her ping.

She has the skill and strategy to solo half of the server if she went rabid again.

And that's the thing. She won't go rabid. She's kind and patient. Pearl has a potential that she couldn't show due to her loyalty and kindness.

Now you see, gem does not have a problem like that.

She's ruthless and blood thirsty whenever she feels like it. She is a leader, someone to look up to in a war. Gem brings the worst in pearl. She tells her things. She tells her to kill, to chase, to hunt. And pearl listens. She listens well.

Gem without pearl is like a warrior with nothing to fight with and for.

Pearl without gem is like a weapon without a wielder to protect and assist.

Gem knew. She knew that if she had gotten her hand on pearl she could rule the server alongside a witch with undying loyalty.

Pearl just wanted to be friends with gem because she was fun :3 she's silly like that

They've set plans, and strategies to defeat the enemy together. But before they know it, They've become each other's enemies.

Pearl asked gem

“gem. You don't want to do this, right…?”

And gem told her with a heavy heart. Knowing that there's no way that they could be together without betraying their day one alliances.

“No. I don't…”

gem ran away, feeling disappointed and betrayed as someone that promised to be her friend had attacked her without warning.

But before they could finish their conversation. A MASSIVE F[redacted]G C[redacted]T SHOT AT GEM. MAKING THEM FLEE. NICE JOB JOEL. (/Lh I love Joel beans)

And pearl, The weapon. Does what she does best and started to attack whoever her allies targets. Like a loyal wolf.

And being betrayed by pearl. That's something that happens once in a millenia.

She hid in her cherry peak as the mounders surrounded them. Gem sees pearl in the distance, stalking thought the forest to find a prey, and they locked eyes. Yet weirdly enough, none of them opened fire. Or even pulled out their bow.

They just shook their head at eachother as a symbol of peace and alliance. Friendship. Because that's what they were, they didn't want to kill eachother, they did not want to hurt one another. but their alliances. They forced them to do so. And they did, out of loyalty.

At that moment gem panics and jumped across the trees to tell both of them to stop shooting. But Scott just ignored her pleas and kept on going. Giving pearl no other option but to retaliate.

They stood their ground, looking at eachother with looks of pity before Scott pushed gem out of the way and shot at pearl. (GREAT JOB, SCOTT. 😡) She dodged before firing back at Scott.

Pearl told gem that she cannot stop what she is doing. But also that she does not have the heart to harm her either. She only wanted the Scotts.

Pearl went deeper into the inner walls of the scottages and was pummeled by arrows, yet she still presisted. impulse died without warning.

Shortly after she heard the yells of her allies and sprinted towards them. But she was too late for Scott and gem had killed them both.

Gem had thought. Maybe. Just maybe if she did not have her allies, she does not have her loyalty. And that she might join them.

Because gem knows that she could beat her. She knows that for a fact.

As she searched through the middle of the battlefield Scott ran up to her and started yelling at her to kill him. To take his heart and to not lose without a fight.

Without any other option she just did it. She stabbed him, gaining his hearts. And shortly after. Pearl came.

Not alone though, like she has hoped. She was with scar

Without any second though pearl shot at gem without mercy. Something that if un-character like of her. Pearl told her “dont make me do this, gem.”

I'm wich gem replied. Without sending her any arrows. “im not making you do anything! Why are you doing this.” as she ran away from them

Pearl chased after her. Though yelling “i don't know!”

Gem asked her “we’re friends! Why?!” and pearl repeated herself. “i don't know!!”

When they met again, pearl has not attacked gem. She tried to talk to her. To megotiate, anything that would mean not killing her. But before she could do that scar had jumped in and attacked gem again.

And what does a weapon do when given a target? They attack. So pearl ran in with her sword. And quite literally stabbed gem in the back.

Killing her.

Pearl got a wielder in the end. And it was not gem.

It was scar

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Maybe a toymaker and reader he stumbles across Y/N drawing in the park and they both get inspired off of each other and fluffness.

Or she goes into his toy shop looking for a gift for a niece/nephew and toymaker just falls head over heels

I went with the second idea as I had a bit more inspiration for that one, hope that's okay <3 (also this title is so freaking dorky but it fits and also references one of my favorite Christmas songs so)

Wanna Hippopotamus for Christmas (The Toymaker x reader)

Warnings: The Toymaker is a massive simp for the reader, the reader is out buying something the week before Christmas (the horror), both The Toymaker and the reader are massive dorks

It was a quiet morning in The Toymaker's shop, like most of them were. He didn't really mind, as he was used to being alone, but still, some company would be nice.

It was when he was mulling over his thoughts that he heard the bell over the shop door ring, signaling someone had come inside. He put down the toy train he'd been tinkering with and left his workroom in the back of the shop so he could greet whoever it was who'd entered, and that's when he saw you.

Something about you was different than anyone else he'd ever seen before, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was so awestruck he hadn't even noticed you'd walked over towards the counter where he was until he heard you clear your throat to get his attention, effectively snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

"Um, hi," you greeted, giving him a friendly (if somewhat awkward) smile.

The Toymaker quickly put on a charming face, trying to ignore just how much your smile made his heart soar. "Welcome, welcome! Tell me, what can I help you with today?"

"Well, I need to get a gift for my niece," you began, "for the holidays, and I know it was stupid of me to wait this long, but I just kept putting it off, and-" You let out a sigh, shaking your head some.

"Anyway, regardless of the reason, I was wondering if maybe you had something? She's, like, obsessed with anything hippo themed, so if you have, like, a stuffed animal or something..."

"I think I have just the thing! Give me one moment, and I'll go retrieve it from the back for you." The Toymaker flashed you a dazzling smile before heading to one of the storage rooms in the back.

It was true that he most likely did have something back there of the nature you were looking for, but that wasn't the main reason he'd offered to go check. What he really needed was a break away from you and your enchanting, orb-like eyes.

This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be feeling this way, especially over a human. But he couldn't help.

He tried to push those conflicting thoughts to the side as he looked for what he'd gone to do in the first place; find a hippo. A plush one, anyway.

You were still standing at the counter when he came back out, drumming your fingers along the edge of it with a bored expression on your face, though he noticed your eyes light up at the large stuffed hippo he was holding.

"Sorry I couldn't find anything smaller. It is the week before Christmas, you know," he lightly chastised.

"Oh, it's perfectly fine. She's gonna love it," you reassure him with a warm smile, that same smile that made him want to bottle it and put on a shelf so he could have a chance to look at it whenever he wanted to.

Part of him thought maybe he could do that, seeing as he had the power. He could if he truly wanted to, but the idea of willingly putting you in harm's way for his own personal gain only made him feel... guilty? Is that what this feeling was?

You'd pulled your wallet out while he was lost in his thoughts, already rifling through it to find what you needed in order to pay. "So, how much do I owe you...?"

The Toymaker quickly shook his head at the question. "Nothing, it's on the house." He could've laughed at how wide your eyes seemed to get at his words.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to put you out of your way, or anything."

God, you were adorable. "I'm certain. Although... perhaps, you could come visit me again, sometime soon. If you'd like."

He couldn't believe the words that just came out of his own mouth. You were going to be upset, weren't you? And then he heard soft laughter.

"Yeah, totally. I'm a little busy for the next week or so due to the holidays, but I'll try to make it back in before the new year."

His face broke into an excited smile. "Wonderful! I look forward to it."

You smiled back, though this time you added a little wink, too, something that made him weak in the knees. "Great! I'll see you then."

You picked up the rather large hippo plush from where it'd been set on the counter and headed for the door. Once you got back outside, you gave him one final wave through the window of the shop before leaving.

The Toymaker just watched, not being able to do much with the intense feeling of his heart hammering in his chest. He did know one thing, however.

He couldn't wait to see you again.

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[alcazarofthestars]

Hello can I request yandere platonic fontaine with y/n that is like Kohaku from enstars by personality?

Of course! But I've only started playing enstars a few months ago, so my knowledge of his personality is a bit restricted and I'll be using the wiki... Sorry for being late, my practical exams are around the corner and then my end of semester tests come right after that....

Summary: After growing up as a very sheltered kid in the house of the hearth, you are trying to achieve your dream in Fontaine as a performer. But you have unfortunately managed to gain the interest of many famous figures and obsessive people in Fontaine...

Warning!: Yandere content (Obviously), bullying, ooc, insecurities, fighting, stalking, abuse(?), bad writing, disfiguration?, murder, harassing, taking pictures without consent, physically harming (not to the reader... kinda), manipulation, Fontaine cast girlbossing, gatekeeping, and gaslighting. (If any of those make you uncomfortable please leave.)

{~} So imagine this, you were born in a branch family of a rather noble family from Inazuma. But you were given up to Arlecchino by your parents because the main family isn't really welcoming of an heir of your gender in fear that the branch family will get any power against them. Even though the family was trying to modernize out of such beliefs, the current head of the family still firmly believes in it. So out of concern, your parents hid you for the first five years of your life until they gave you up to the house of the hearth.

{~} There in the orphanage you meet a pair of twins from Fontaine who aspire to be great magician and his assistant, the twins consist of one male and one female who introduced themselves as Lyney and Lynette. They were older than you by a few years and they would also love to put on a show for you! By this point you see them as your older siblings, and they also see you as their adorable younger sibling who has to be protected from the cruel world. But sadly, they go on a lot of missions outside of Snezhnaya... But don't worry, they always think about you during their missions and they bring back souvenirs from their travels!

{~} During your time at the orphanage, you've managed to meet Arlecchino herself. At first she scared you, but you soon warmed up to her! She became your parental figure during your stay at the house of the hearth after an event where she saved when you almost died. But she would never allow you out of the orphanage grounds unlike the other kids at the orphanage. You first thought it was because you were too young, but when you grew up she still didn't allow you to leave whether it's for missions or just walking around. Whenever you asked she would answer by saying, "It's for your safety. The world is a harsh place." or something similar to that...

{~} This made you grow up as a rather sheltered kid compared to most others your age. You learned about the outside world by books, newspapers, and gifts that were brought back by the others in the orphanage. You also have very little knowledge about fashion due to always wearing uniforms provided by the orphanage.

{~} One day, you were introduced to a new addition to the orphanage. He introduced himself as Freminet as he hid behind Arlecchino. She wanted you to welcome him to the orphanage because the two of you are the same age. At first he was rather shy and quiet around others, he still is but now he doesn't run away the moment someone goes near him. You would talk and hang out with him during the first few weeks of his stay, but he would always hide from you...

{~} This one time, you were walking around the orphanage in search of Freminet to play with you as usual. You did manage to find him, but he was surrounded by other kids that were all older than him. From what you heard from afar, they were talking about him. And not the nice type of talking, more like the harassing kind. So as a young kid with a naive mind you went up to the group and confronted them head on.

{~} ... It didn't go well. You ended up fighting with most of the kids while the others ran to find Arlecchino or because they were scared. After Arlecchino came, she sent all the kids (including you) to her office. In the end, after asking the bystanders and witnesses you got off with only a long lecture while most of the other kids got lectured and were given more chores to do. When you left Arlecchino's office, Freminet went over to you and hugged you, thanking you for helping him. Since that incident you and Freminet had gotten closer up to the point he would follow you around like a lost puppy.

{~} On one afternoon, Lyney and Lynette came back from one of their missions. They also brought some souvenirs back from Fontaine for you. Lyney handed you their souvenir, it is a voice recording of a popular idol from Fontaine singing their most popular song. You would love to listen to it and you really treasured it. A few days later, you were playing with the twins and Freminet when you excitedly announced that you want to be an idol or performer when you grow up.

{~} They were very supportive of your dreams, Lyney and Lynette offered to teach you some tricks for when you're performing so you don't get nervous on stage. Lyney had also invited you to come to one of their performances in the future! When you told Arlecchino, she seemed supportive of this idea as well. So after all that, you began practicing with the help of Lyney and Lynette with Freminet and Arlecchino who would occasionally drop by and watch you practice.

{~} When you turned 15, Arlecchino finally gave you your first mission (you kept on begging her) with the twins and Freminet in Fontaine. The mission was rather easy, 'perform a show as your 'debut' as a performer to prepare for future missions', you were still excited nonetheless!

{~} When you, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet arrived at Fontaine you were in awe by the atmosphere of the said nation. Compared to Snezhnaya, Fontaine was more welcoming and peaceful especially with way less snow and blizzards. Your group split up to find a place to stay, so while Lynette and Freminet search for an inn you and Lyney would go explore together.

{~} After a while, you managed to get separated from Lyney. While searching for him you decided to ask some people nearby. The second you asked they started to give weird looks to you, narrowing their eyes as you spoke. You, who noticed this, started to get more and more nervous. They answered you by saying that they haven't seen Lyney. When you were far enough they started to talk amongst themselves, mainly about you and your weird accent. It wasn't much of a problem for you back at the house of the hearth because of the kids' innocent minds, but now that you're in a whole different nation with a lot of judging people, you start to feel somewhat insecure...

{~} Thankfully, Lyney had found you accompanied by Lynette and Freminet trailing behind him. "Ahah! There you are! We were so worried, where did you go?" He questioned. "Now, now, it was your fault that you two got separated." Lynette commented in a rather harsh tone. "Anyways, we found a suitable inn to stay at." She added.

{~} Although that incident happened a long time ago, you still found their words ingraved in your head. Now ever since you started your 'career' as a performer, people have grown to like your accent. But you still have problems accepting it...

{~} In present times, you are a famous performer in Fontaine and other regions. So it's only natural to have performed in front of many important and known figures from many different nations. But today's performance makes you feel nervous... Why you ask? It's because you're gonna perform for the monsieur Neuvillette and hydro archon herself along with a few more important people! Usually Lyney and Lynette would do these, but it seems that they want you to perform instead....

{~} It went smoothly, as usual. The crowd was cheering, the guests were happy, and you did a job well done! After the show the hydro archon, Furina, had approached you to congrat you on a good show while Neuvillette had given you a nod and a faint smile. You were happy of course, but there was a bad feeling that you couldn't really shake off from them...

{~} During your stay at Fontaine you have met many incredible and nice people! Such as Navia the president of the Spina di Rosula who would always invite you to tea parties with her to talk about your day, Clorinde the hydro archon's personal bodyguard that would help you out with security during your performances, or Chiori the fashion designer from Inazuma who likes to make you dress up from time to time. Over time, you had also managed to get closer to the hydro archon, melusines and Neuvillette. Although being somewhat close with them, you still continue to get a bad feeling from them.

{~} There was a certain incident that had happened a while back where during one of your shows a person from your audience made a remark on how you have a strong accent and how it ruined the whole performance. When you went to talk to the people who said that earlier it is as if they just went POOF! Cause it was like they just... vanished... Until a few days later where their bodies were found, looking so disfigured that they could only be identified by their outfit.

(TIMESKIP TO AFTER THE ARCHON QUEST CAUSE I'M STARTING TO GET LAZY)

{~} Over time you have managed to see the fountain cast as your 'found family' and they seem to see you in the same light! But day by day the amount of missing people cases has increased up to the point your 'family' starts talking about how dangerous it is and how you should just stay with them for the time being.

{~} Maybe they are right. You shouldn't worry much about people whom you barely know and spend time with your friends and 'family' instead! Things have been going great, the culprit is almost found and you get to spend time with the people you love without being worried. Isn't that just nice? Well... that is until a renowned detective from Inazuma comes to help in the case...

A/N: AHHHH....! I hate tests... This will probably be my last post before going inactive for a while.... Sorry for the rushed ending, feel free to leave the rest up to your imagination!

[knnichs]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄

— characters : zhongli . neuvillette . thoma . wanderer

— characters are in a relationship with reader, gn!reader, scaramouche is still working in the fatui

fluff. word count : 0.6k

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 is just as affectionate as you are to him. Constantly providing you with gifts if he can, showering you with love, always being there by your side. He’s quite a chatty person, and there were plenty of times where you’ve caught him talking about you to a group of the same group of people that know him by the name Morax. Xiao has heard of your name multiple times and has unconsciously gained the habit of staying close by when he sees you; And if Ganyu isn’t busy burying herself in work–she’d take you to a fancy restaurant she knows you’ve been eyeing. 

The problem is: Zhongli has almost no chance against the Adepti if they’ve been spoiling you. So what does he do? He gets competitive. Incredibly competitive.

Instead of trying to work with Ganyu and Xiao to gain more of your affection; He instead chooses to try and focus on you more. Giving you more kisses in public, more gifts and more of his affectionate words. He never fails to make sure to show that in front of the two Adepti too. But they know he means well; The ex-archon is just happy to be yours.

Because of his high demanding job, you don’t often see 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 back at home. He makes up for lost time with his charm and mora. Neuvillette loves to spoil you. Whether he brings you to a nice restaurant or buys you expensive items from luxury brands, he finds a way. 

One thing he will never do is take you along with him to a trial. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be seen with you, nor is it that he doesn’t trust you; It’s more of the fact that he doesn’t, and absolutely does NOT want you near dangerous people. Guilty or Innocent, he thinks bringing you with him is unnecessary and could cause more harm than good. Who knows? A future criminal could target you in the future seeing that you’re quite close to the Iudex. 

So, although he doesn’t bring you with him to work, he does let you in his office. It’s heavily guarded with Melusines and he’s sure that she wouldn’t slack off on her duty! 

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀 is a sweetheart. He never leaves your side and he’s always there when you need him.  He brings you along to run errands and is always on high alert if there are times when you’re walking around dangerous parts of Inazuma.

If, for whatever reason, you don’t tag along–He will make sure to bring gifts. Even if it was your choice that you weren’t joining, he’s still bringing you a bouquet of flowers and a few fun stories that happened during the few hours he was gone to try and woo you to be with him the next time Thoma invites you.

He’s heavy on physical contact. When you two are out, he’s constantly holding your hand–Giving you quick pecks on the cheeks from time to time. Thoma is an affectionate person, and he never fails to show that to you.

Despite his sharp words and demeanor, 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 is a huge fan of gift giving. During good days, you might even encounter a rather cuddly version of your partner.

Scaramouche is known to be stern and incredibly strict because of his rank in the Fatui. But either way, you’ve managed to wrap him around your finger; And he thinks that vulnerability is not a good thing. So what does he do? Push you away.

But don’t go, because he doesn’t want to be alone. Don’t go because he can still show you what it’s like being loved by someone like him. Don’t go because you’ll be finding bouquets and chocolates right at your nightstand when you wake up every morning.

characters belong to mihoyo. everything is written by staari - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.