#〔someone's up to something – dash chatter〕

[dangerous-realms]

Kaja so small and has such fluffy looking hair...

I must pet her!!!

"Hmm? Zai, are you ok?"

"You know you could have just asked you fucking dork."

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Prompt: Either Time and Malon have announced they're having a baby or Malon has just had a baby and they're introducing them to the chain when Time finds some big insecurities from one of his boys he doesn't expect; Wild. Thing is, Time (and to an extent Malon as well) is the only parental figure he knows. Any memories of his parents are long gone along with any record of who they might have been so Time acting in a familial manner means a lot to Wild. But he's worried now that the man is an -actual- father that it means he'll be withdrawing that affection from the chain (himself, really) in favor of focusing on his child. Time goes above and beyond to prove him wrong.

Sky glared grumpily at the postman as he delivered mail to everyone. Legend snickered and elbowed his friend, making the usually cheery knight even more sour.

“Chin up, Sky,” Wild chuckled. “Nobody can outrun that guy from what I can figure. At least that’s what the old man says.”

Time didn’t even flinch at his mention. It wasn’t new - he tended to tune out the younger ones what they got rambunctious. But something about the intensity of which he was looking at his letter from Malon caught Wild’s attention.

“Everything okay?” Twilight asked, also picking up on it.

Time glanced at Twilight, eye fixed on the younger man, then back at the letter. Then he closed both eyes and smiled.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, folding the letter.

“That looks like more than fine,” Warriors noted, wiggling his eyebrows. “What are you hiding, old man?”

“Is Miss Malon okay?” Wind asked, poking his head over Warriors’ shoulder, having been sitting on the ground behind the captain, who had plopped on a stump.

“She’s fine,” Time replied warmly. Then he sighed a little, gentle cheer dashed by a cool, worried gaze.

“That wasn’t very convincing,” Four whispered to Twilight.

Time glanced around at the group, now that everyone had honed in on him. Then he seemed to come to a decision, huffing a little and saying, “Since none of you seem to know how to mind your business, then I’ll tell you.”

Warriors scoffed, “I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of minding my own business until gossip is involved.”

Hyrule laughed. “It’s pretty funny listening to people’s drama in town, honestly. But I hope there isn’t drama in your house, old man.”

“There isn’t,” Time assured him. “But there will be someone new living there.”

“Is it that Ingo guy you got mad about?” Sky asked, tilting his head to the side.

Time outright laughed. “No, Sky. No. It’s… Malon’s pregnant.”

The group went silent for a long while before it burst into excited chatter. Warriors was the first to congratulate Time, with Sky coming shortly after, followed by Four and then everyone else in quick succession. Wind excitedly asked about baby names, Sky interrogated him about what course this journey might take now, if they should find a way to return to Lon Lon Ranch—

That was probably the point that Wild felt his stomach twist into knots.

He didn’t quite know what was wrong, at first. He congratulated the old man alongside everyone else. This was a great occasion, after all. But Sky mentioning how maybe Time would want to visit Malon really made Wild realize…

Was he going to leave the group now?

Wild… didn’t want him to leave.

It wasn’t that he was particularly close to Time, more so than the others. Wild was closest to Twilight, after all. But… something about the eldest Link was… comforting. Guiding. Wild couldn’t put words to it, except that… it reminded him of… he didn’t know. He just… he couldn’t remember anything. He didn’t know anything. But the Hero of Time became a staple in his life the last few weeks, a father figure of sorts (and he knew he wasn’t alone in this—the worried disappointment that Wind was trying to hide, the way Legend suddenly became aloof as if already distancing his heart from the matter, the way Sky took four steps away from their leader after running up to him to congratulate him—these were all indications of the same sentiment) when Wild could hardly remember any family at all… and he… was going to lose him too.

He supposed the only true constant in his life was Zelda.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know this journey would come to an end, but he hadn’t expected their group to lessen during the journey. It had been horrifying when Twilight had almost died - now Time was going to just leave them? Leave him?

Wild found he couldn’t speak after his initial words of cheer for the old man, and he started to slink away into the woods. He wandered aimlessly, shivering a little, feeling far more alone than he had in a while. He tried to cheer himself up with some kind of logical argument—even if he does leave, you still have the others, you have your brothers, you have Twilight—but none of it quite filled the hole that was quickly forming.

At least this time he’d have a chance to say goodbye.

Wild eventually made his way back to the camp just in time - Warriors had been readying to search for him, and he didn’t want to cause such a fuss. He avoided Time for the rest of the night, settling in to take first watch as everyone else went to bed.

He hadn’t expected Time to sit beside him.

“Something’s bothering you,” Time said. It wasn’t a question, but it was held in the air like an invitation.

Wild sighed. “I… wouldn’t worry about it. We’ll find a way to get you home, old man. Wouldn’t want you to miss your actual family.”

There was a period of silence, only interrupted by the crackling of the fire. Wild felt a strange ache in his chest, a longing for someone he could no longer remember. He shriveled into himself a little, shoulders slumping, letting time pass by as he looked into the flames.

“Link… I’m not going home.”

Wild didn’t register the words for a moment, still lost in his own mind and thoughts, before he blinked and glanced over at the older hero. “Wait, what?”

“My place is here,” Time explained quietly, almost what seemed gently. “I would never abandon all of you like that. I love Malon dearly, but she isn’t my only family.”

Wild wasn’t sure what to say to any of this, but the hope in his heart couldn’t be ignored, and he burst out, “You’re not leaving us?”

There was something about Time’s expression that Wild couldn’t quite read. The older hero’s eyebrows seemed to relax from their previously stern position, face softening, eye looking Wild over. “No, young one. I’m not leaving. What we will do, though, is turn back towards the town. I want to write to her. I want all of us to write to her. We’ll have to keep tabs on how she’s doing far more often.”

“Why all of us?” Wild asked.

Time reached forward, messing with the teenager’s hair as he smiled. “If I’ve had to parent all of you, then you’re certainly earning the right and responsibility to ensure your new little sister is alright.”

Wild yelped a little at the gesture before laughing a little, swatting Time away. “Sister, eh? You think it’s a girl?”

“Goddess, I hope so. I have enough boys to take care of.”

Wild’s laugh nearly woke the entire group at that remark. When he’d settled, Time smiled at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was reassuring, a physical representation on the promise that Time hadn’t spoken. He didn’t need to. What he’d said was enough.

The ache in Wild’s chest didn’t squeeze quite so hard. But he yearned for the contact, and so he leaned forward a little, just a little, just enough to be perceived without invading the man’s space. Time understood the motion for what it was, and he smiled a little more, pulling Wild into a hug. For the briefest moment the champion felt a little silly or embarrassed at the vulnerability he’d just shown, and then he decided he didn’t care - if he truly viewed Time as a father figure then he should be comfortable showing such insecurity around him. He’d done as much with Twilight.

Twilight. Time’s descendant. Between being viewed as a brother by Twi and a son by Time, Wild actually… he really…

He let out a shuddering breath, and Time’s hand swept up and down his back slowly.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Wild actually felt like he belonged in a group, in a team, in a family. He could imagine the Champions smiling at him, and the tears finally did fall.

[bambisnc]

u got me so in love [ft. p.hn]

@ yn : idk sounds like a you problem tbh @ hanni : oh yeah? watch me make it into an us problem rn babe <3

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst w a dash of crack cw/tw : swearing + uneditted + hints of reader being possessive/jealous + surprise moka appearance! <3 wc : 0.5k

you saw hanni before she saw you. 

however, to be fair, the fact that in every hallway, every room, every crowd in general, your eyes would always, always be constantly in search of her did give you a fair advantage. 

she was pulling someone along by their arm, in that trademark cheerful manner of hers. 

but she was too busy in conversation to notice you staring. 

too busy in conversation to notice how you forcibly immersed yourself into conversation with minji just to appear unbothered.

you almost succeed. 

keyword : almost.

she finally approaches you. the traitor. misusing that beautiful grin of hers to force a matching one on your own face.

“y/n!! you remember we have to be at school this saturday right? for the physics project?” 

you can’t help but be distracted by how she’s still holding some other girl’s hand. you don't think you've seen her before, she's probably new - and your best friend, being the absolute sweet soul that she is probably offered to show her around.

but it's crazy if you think about it – hanni has no shortage of friends and physical touch is how she shows affection. plus it’s not like the two of you are together or anything; she's only your best friend.  

so why does it bother you this much?

you carefully hide the annoyance starting to creep up on your features and shrug noncommittally (a VERY inappropriate response to the question she'd asked). 

hanni looks like she’s finally noticed something. 

“oh! moka, these are my friends!” she gestures towards you, “and side note : this one's for sure the cutest!” “is that how you usually introduce people?” you deadpan; the compliment not doing much to appease the vague ickiness you feel.

“no!!” hanni huffs sheepishly, “minji, y/n, this is the new transfer student sakai moka; she’s in my class!”

before either you or minji is able to reply, the school bell rings and a bustling crowd of students surges through. the 2 of you get separated from hanni and .. moka.

you’re left just a little dazed but aren’t able to dwell much on it when some other classmates/acquaintances/friends engage you in random mindless chatter which you'd be damned if you were even half interested in.

- the next you see the two of them is by the stairwell; both of them standing against the wall, animatedly talking about something or the other. 

could it be that she’s waiting for you?.. 

as soon as the crowd parts enough way to walk through, you, ironically, lose sight of her completely. 

.. so she wasn’t waiting.

the entire occurrence leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. 

and the idea of processing whatever you’re feeling seems a little too much for you to be able to handle right now. 

you can't help but suddenly remember when just an year earlier, you and hanni had been sitting together on these same stairs. she'd confessed that she wasn't looking forward to going to the next grade because that would mean both of you would be different classes.

she'd made you promise you wouldn't become best friends with someone new you met. she'd made you promise to only be hers.

too bad you just laughed it off back then.

-

when you check your phone later, a flurry of notifications greet you, all from a certain someone who’s been on your mind quite literally all day.

● hanniiee (cutest bestest most perfect bff) :3 <3

Y/NNN  Y/NNNNIEEE WHERE’VE U BEEN ALL DAYYY IMYYY

oh and omg moka told me the funniest story about her old school you’ll love her smmm fr :((

AWW HOLD ON NO WAY  minji js texted 🤭🤭🤭 is my darling a little jealous perhaps~~ ??  u know ur always my no.1 y/nnie <33

CALL MEEE ALR LOSER

ah shit wait i need to go over to moka’s rn to help w school work

call me when u can tho i’ll be free to pick up anytime !!!

…

but when you call hanni a little later, you’re met with an automated response.

the number you have dialed is currently busy. please try again.

notes : bambisnc comeback no wayyy anyw what if i changed my user back to bambinsc guys ive totally not being having sm thoughts about doinf that + [m.list] song rec : te quiero - kissoflife! <3

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

pt.2 <3

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

2.3k words- wanderer comes with you on a job. things are likely to go up in smoke.

"this. was such a stupid idea." wanderer hisses from his spot beside you. back pushed against a well-aged stone wall, his hat in his hands since the obscenely round headwear makes hiding behind a wall a very convoluted endeavor.

you, who was standing nearest to the corner of the wall, peaking around it every so often swiveled your chin towards him and brought your finger up to your mouth to harshly shush him.

"i didn't ask for you to come. you invited yourself!" you hiss quietly back at him. the veins in his forehead from your return fire felt like they were around to fry and malfunction.

"no," he rebuttals, "buer insisted." which was... half true.

nahida had caught wind of a very interesting commission posted on behalf of the adventurers' guild on treasure street. something involving old books or scripts and she took a liking to it. 'you already know all of whatever's in those dusty tomes,' he had told her. still, nothing beat recovering the physical wisdom she already had so she could hold it in her small hands and fawn over it... so she claims. that's why he was here in the first place.

going along with whoever decided to take on the job beat out over having to endure her pressing gaze that lit his back on fire. the problem was that you were the one who took the commission.

while he tolerated your presence and didn't dislike you being around or yapping even if he was in a sour mood, when you were working out on the field- even he knew you were a reckless lost cause. did you bring results? yes. but you always found the most ludicrous ways to get there. if he took his eyes off you for a second, who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into.

presently, you and he had successfully snuck into the hideout of which the lost books were rumored to be. an old stone building that once stood as a small manor. the books were rumored to be in the last remaining tower on the east side of the main building; or so says the suspiciously detailed commission. of course, this hideout wasn't without its squatters. treasure hoarders infested the place like worker bees in a hive.

you both had gotten lucky so far. reckless as you are, he was half convinced you'd storm the place, guns blazing and just bull doze yourself all the way through.

as for what was going on around the corner, you were currently listening for the small group of treasure hoarders to pass by; or you would be if your hat wearing companion would stop nagging. shushing him between your teeth once more, you swirl your head away from him. annoyance bit at the back of his neck, still he obliged you by staying silent. one of his feet propped up against the wall behind him as he idled.

the chatter between the men you were both sneaking around faded into a murmur as he watched the back of your head from the corn of his eyes. the adventure's uniform was always tacky to him. apparently you thought so do, if all the changes you've made to yours was anything to go by.

"okay," you whisper. wanderer kicks himself off the wall before placing his hat back on his head with practiced grace. "coast is clear, let's go before someone else comes back around." as you take off around the corner his eyes roll before he's chasing after you.

for all his moaning, the previous nomad had no reason to doubt your skills. you were good as what you did. it was just always more trouble than it's worth sometimes.

with the same tactic of wait, listen, dash and repeat, you both managed to get to the tower and pushed past an old, domed wood door. the spiral of stone steps leading higher into the tower was so visibly unsafe, one wrong step on the wrong piece of rock would send a typical person tumbling all the way back down. of course, if that did happen, wanderer would just latch onto your collar and fly you the rest of the way up by your fabric scruff.

after an annoyingly long trip up in upward circles, you come to another door identical to the one at the bottom. wooden, domed and built with iron latches. twisting the handle and releasing the latch, the door opened, and the scent of dust hit your nose.

you step into the old room that looked like a small library once a upon a time and waved your hand in front of your face to stave off all the dust in the air. you coughed on it as wanderer watched you with crossed arms.

"you're so dramatic," he sassily told you before walking further into the library. a perk of not needing to breath was not caring about dust apparently. your lungs were currently envious of his mechanical innards.

"oh... shu-t up-" you choked, following after him.

the library itself wasn't grand. it was obviously old. cobwebs on the ceilings and in all corners, layers of dust that could easily create a thick quilt if it was all gathered in one place. the room of shelves held so many books draped in peeling covers and age-damage. still, somewhere among them was the books you needed to find.

it took a long time, longer than you wished, and more battles between dust clouds, spiders, and cobwebs that you care to admit, but you had finally found what you were looking for. placing any loose pieces of paper into your satchel on your hip, you take the book and wrap it up in cloth before also tucking it away.

"i think that just about does it." you say, latching your satchel up securely. "let's get out of here before-"

the sound of echoed, rushed footsteps stomping their way up the stairs behind the cracked door of the library interrupted you. spinning around, you faced the door as wanderer clicked his tongue.

"you just had to go and say something dumb."

"why are you blaming me?!" you screech.

"there's someone up here alright!"

one of the owners of the rushing feet shouted. wanderer's glare towards you made you look away quickly with sweat running down your cheek. you were guilty of nothing that he can prove. he stomped over to you and pulled on that cheek, his fingers pinching the flesh as his insides whirled in irritation. "you loudmouth!" through your squinted eyes did you see steam puffing from his mouth?

the cracked door blew open and behind it came rushing in three treasure hoarders. a knife thrower, a burly man with a shovel, and an excentric looking fellow in a red overcoat. 'oh great,' you think.

wanderer releases your cheek as the three men rush in. he grabs your arm and shoves you away from him and kicks starts your legs for you. you duck between the bookshelves as they give chase. the knife throwing man tries his luck, his projectiles lodging into the bookcase just as you find safety behind it. skidding to a swift turn, you counter with your own throwing skills- although with a stray rock on the floor inside of a knife.

a satisfied thunk sounded among the scuffle as the rock struck him on the head and he soon followed it to the floor. he deserves the headache he'll wake up with. your small victory was short as you yelp when the burly man with a shovel swings it and you just barely managed to duck under the woosh of its motion. rolling away from him you run, leading him towards a bookshelf you noticed was unstable earlier. once he was in place, you shoved the shelf with your shoulder, toppling it over the man.

books pelt him before the wooden encasement pins him to the floor. it was just heavy enough to keep him down long enough for an escape. stepping on the fallen shelf, you hear the treasure hoarder groan at your added weight on his back before you were rushing around the library back to the front.

"hey, [wanderer]! we've really gotta go!" you stood still in the library and wonder where the third guy had ran off to. he was the one you were most worried around. the last thing you needed was a molotov being thrown at you. "[wand]-" your second shout was cut off by a blast of wind swishing at your side. once the wind blew past, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the once tidy- but dusty- library. followed by a plume of fire.

"stop shouting! you're just giving yourself away!" you found wanderer at your back the moment you recovered from the sudden burst of air. there was a rumble in the floor caused by his vision as a blast of air sprang up from below the third attacker's feet. it violently burst from below, lifting him off his feet and onto his back.

three knocked down treasure hoarders. nice.

soon, the stairwell begin to fill with more noise. more shouting and stomping just like earlier. as you look over wanderer's shoulder, your voice chokes at the remnants of the flame-fueled molotov he had blasted away from your earlier. this library was the best fire starter in the books! dust, paper, wood. it checks all the boxes. and now you'd have to deal with more treasure hoarders.

"oh, come on!" you groan. wanderer looks behind his shoulder at you. he wonders if you realize that you've grabbed onto his arm or how close your nose was to his cheek at this angle. he clicks his tongue again before looking behind your head.

with his vision against his chest, he lifted his free arm, flinging a slice of air through a small window. the glass shatters, falls outside to the ground and the open air invisibly floods the room. it only adds to fan the flames that were now beginning to eagerly eat anything around it to grow.

moving, and dragging your wrist with him, he jumps up onto a nearby desk just under the now empty window frame.

"don't bite your tongue," he tells you. you look at him like he's nuts before he's shoving you out the window back first. shoving his palms against the front of your shoulders. your arms flail before the view of the library and wanderer, spin and flip to the outside stone of the tower and then the sky. there's a second of skirmishing noise before the sound of wind deafens you.

wanderer is quick to fly out of the window after you. diving down in the air, he swoops his arm under your stomach, securing you to his side. your body folds inwardly due to be stopped at free fall and wanderer takes a full few seconds of levitation before blasting off away from the scene.

"are you crazy?! why did you do that?!" you complain. rightfully so.

"did you want to stay and get burnt to a crisp?!" how he found the audacity to argue with you, you don't know. "we got what we needed anyway!"

"how about a little warning next time?!"

"stop shouting! you'll bite your tongue! don't you listen!"

"I have to shout so you hear me!"

the way he is holding you was backward; your legs were at his front with your arms clutching onto the flapping fabric that dangled on his person. clinging onto him, you watch the tower disappear behind the clearly strategic retreat. observing as smoke begins billowing up in the sky and you wonder if you'd have to include 'the result of the job was a massive fire' in your commission report.

it would break poor nahida's heart to know that so many books were lost to a reckless treasure hoarder who though a fire molotov in an old library was a good idea.

when you finally return to sumeru city and write up your report, your prompt in delivering it to katheryn. you glance over to the puppet who still hadn't dismissed himself back to the sanctuary of surasthana to do his own report back to the dendro archon herself with questioning eyes. was part of his task also to wait until you had submitted a report? what was keeping him?

walking over to his side, you dig the book out of your satchel along with the pieces of loose parchment. you offer them to him.

"do you need to take these back to lesser lord kusanali?" his arms remain crossed along his chest and he makes no move to uncross them to take your items. your chin juts up a fraction as if to tell him 'are you going to take these or?'

without so much as a word, he spins his back towards you. you're about to give him a piece of your mind, when he talks. "give them to her yourself." starting off, he walks further up treasures street, and you were left there flabbergasted. was he going to make you finish this job alone? "are you coming or not?" his voice called from up the slopped roads. he was waiting for you.

'guess he isn't.'

you jog to catch up to him, book clutched to your chest, and he waits until you were beside him to start walking again. just before he moved to open the door to the sanctuary, you stopped him.

"thanks for helping me out earlier." he turned to look at you quizzically. "you know? for deflecting that flaming bottle? it would've sucked if it caught the job items on fire."

"it wasn't a big deal." he turns away again.

"i also appreciate that you didn't let me get hurt."

there was a silence. then, "you're welcome." it was a genuine statement. not a hint of sass. it made you feel pretty proud. "come on." he told you before he's walking inside with you in tow, but not before opening the door for you.

nahida was pleased at the newfound items she could safely store away after thoroughly studying them. but when you informed her that the rest of the library you ventured to in search of those items went up in smoke? lesser lord kusanali wasn't the happiest archon in teyvat about that.

a/n: you'll never guess which scene i rly wrote all this for was- also yes i put [wander] in brackets when reader was speaking bc he's obvious named differently, so its more or less a name placeholder lol

[cottonlemonade]

Hi! May I have a Medium Cherry Lemonade with extra ice for Oikawa!

She/her pronouns pretty please.

Protecting A Rival

word count: 1074 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with a dash of angst

warnings: mentions of bullying

request: fluffy, protecting you, rival Oikawa

“Oh this is perfect.“

“How did you even get her schedule?“

“It was just there on her desk. Not my fault she doesn‘t look after her stuff.“

The girls broke into hag-like cackling.

“This will be so much fun! Y/n won‘t know what hit her.“

Oikawa usually tried to ignore the buzzing chatter of students walking to the school but your name got his attention. He knew those girls. They, unfortunately, were an (overly) active part of his fan club. This morning, however, their focus was somewhere else and he was glad that they hadn‘t noticed him walking behind them. Nasty creatures, he thought.

In all fairness, you weren‘t his friend or even anything close to it. At best you were his rival since you’d usually fight for the top scores of the class - but he admired that about you. You chose academics instead of fawning all over him (although that was kind of infuriating because why didn‘t you??) He knew that those banshees had a reputation for making people‘s lives miserable and he really didn‘t appreciate that they set their gawky eyes on you.

He should give you a head‘s up. Fair was fair. The only way he would feel satisfied when beating you in Friday‘s quiz was when you were on top of your game.

“Y/n-chan!“, he called, his voice unusually serious. You met his eyes with suspicion. He never talked to you outside of class debates.

“What do you want?“, you asked, coldly.

Okay, rude. But he pressed on, “Can I talk to you for a moment?“

“Is this about homework or the test?“

“Neither.“

“Then I don‘t wanna hear it.“ And with that you took your seat in the first row.

Oikawa pursed his lips. Fine, suit yourself.

When he walked to his desk next to Iwaizumi he saw the three banshees giggling again and whisper urgently, wicked mouths hidden behind their hands.

He groaned inwardly.

After class as you packed up to walk to the next room, he ditched Iwaizumi, Makki and Mattsun and hurried after you. You simply lengthened your strides but in all fairness even that with your much shorter chubby legs was no challenge for the tall volleyball captain.

“Don't you have anything better to do?“, you snapped when he even followed you to the vending machine where you grabbed a juice.

Yes! “No.“

“Why are you following me?“

“Because I like to annoy you, y/n-chan~“

Confused, you scrunched your brow. “Well… stop that.“

By the time lunch rolled around you had had enough. He walked quietly half a step behind you and your friend, keeping an eye out for the banshees, when you suddenly whipped around.

“What is your problem, Oikawa-san?“

Your friend gasped (she was an unofficial supporter of him but out of loyalty to you kept that little piece of information to herself).

“I- come on.“

He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of a side door into the delicate spring sun.

You shook off his hand and crossed your arms.

“Listen, on the way to school this morning I heard these girls talking about … about wanting to do something to you. They have your schedule and everything.“

For a moment your lips parted in surprise and your arms loosened, almost falling to your side but just as quickly, you regained your defiant stance.

“So what?“

Oikawa blinked.

“So…“

“I have to deal with them every other day. Hiding my stuff, pushing me on the stairs, dropping my lunch on the floor. It‘s nothing new. Stay out of it! You‘re only gonna make it worse.“

A new wave of irritation rose in his chest. Then why didn’t you tell a teacher!? Your stubbornness was beyond comprehension. How could someone be this-

“Fine.“, he said with a shrug, “It‘s all the same to me. Do whatever you want.“

“I will!“ And you stormed off. Your cute little stomps stirred up some dust on the sandy courtyard. He shook his head. Wait, not cute. Aggravating! Bullheaded! - Impressive. Strong.

Oikawa sighed and went back inside to grab lunch with his friends. He couldn‘t do anything if you didn‘t want his help. And maybe you were right. Maybe he would make it worse.

Practice was exhausting but good. The coach dismissed the team but didn‘t bat an eye when the captain didn‘t move towards the changing room like everyone else. Instead he handed him the keys to the gym and gave him a pat on the shoulder before he left.

Grabbing the rolling cart with the balls, Oikawa got into position to practice his serves but through the open doors, he spotted an illuminated window on the second floor. People packing up their things and getting ready to go home - you among them. He knew you were part of a book club, because originally he wanted to join as well but upon dodging the poisonous daggers shooting from your eyes when he approached the club manager he rescinded his application and left the book discussions to you.

He shouldn’t get involved. You clearly told him to back off and really, why did he care?

Because it was wrong, for one.

Because you didn‘t do anything to deserve this treatment.

Because you were the only real competition he ever faced academically.

Because you were his equal if not better.

Because you made him push himself.

Because… he didn‘t like the thought of you getting hurt.

Because… he didn‘t want you to deal with this on your own.

He rushed to the changing room, completely ignoring the wide eyes of his team.

“Y/n-chan!“, he called.

In no time he caught up to you.

“Sorry about-“

He was already wondering where your backpack was when he noticed you cradling it in your arms.

The shoulder straps had been cut off.

“I can take care of myself.“, you said quietly.

He couldn‘t help himself and smiled.

“I know you can. But… it‘s just… I would feel better if you… wouldn‘t…“

You halted, looking at the ground, then after a few seconds, met his eyes.

He fully expected you to tell him off again. Maybe even throw your strapless backpack at him. But instead you were… blushing! Enough for him to see it in the yellow lights of the streetlamps. His mouth dropped open. Had you always been this adorable?

“Alright.“, you said, “You can walk me home…“

His smile widened.

“Tomorrow, too?“

“Don‘t push it.“

a/n: Thank you so so much for this prompt. It was so much fun to figure out! I hope you enjoy it!

for requests see here

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ STEP ONE

tw. noncon, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, body horror, decapitation, dacryphilia, fear kink, objectification, threats, humiliation, blood, brief throw up scene, weapon play, choking, overstimulation, manipulation, physical harm, mask kink wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by a lovely friend whomst i cherish dearly ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning meeee!! i t was very fun to have a reason to write some grimy gross shit again and your big brain is the best mwUah this was so fun i hooopppee you enjoy it !!! kiSs kISS kiss and thankies to rhi for beta-ing <33

oikawa tooru x fem!reader x iwaizumi hajime

Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack.

The blurred spats of red-tinted light that fill the night sky blur until they seem to vanish, and the ache in your head becomes pressing enough to numb. Numb to the coldness of the dirt, the uncomfortable stickiness to your back and thighs, tingling down your feet. The stars - you know them to be stars though they don’t look it, bleeding out like lambs across a pitch black voidness - get blocked out when the movement comes back to your view.

And a dirty, wet hand lands against your cheek hard enough to knock your face to the side, stinging up and down your skin. You get another taste of the copper coating your tongue— and a deep, pinched wheeze has you spluttering on the floor as your lungs come back to life.

It’s so cold.

But the pressure building between your ears rings before it pops, and the deep, rough string of wordy promises comes back to you. You almost think the quiet behind them hurts more. There’s caked blood that clots your nose, as your body is ragdolled onto a lap. Better view of the sky. Better view of the off-human face that forces back into sight. It cracks, it pops. You barely breathe.

And wonder how you got here.

+

There’s something unpleasant about the way he words it. “Okay, don’t be a baby. How old are you? Didn’t we all agree to this?” You’re not prone to telling your friends no, but there’s a difference between gentle encouragement, and being an abstemious dick. “We just got here.” With a gentler smile, the blond’s girlfriend shoots you a little encouragement.

“If you really don’t like it, you can always step out, you know. These things are made more for silly jumpscares than actual panic.”

Your shoulders square a little higher to your ears when you hop off the bar of the fenced line. “I know,” you say, be it a little mumbled. The other couple in front of you, classmates, look back to give you the kind of look that would amuse. If shot at anyone else. Your hands bury into your jacket pockets as the last pinkish light of the day starts to dim, and you pick at the loose thread in there. You aren’t the biggest baby you have ever been, but you’re first to admit you’re no brave soldier. You’re jumpish, cowardly when it comes down to the wire, and when presented with a choice, you’d rather go. Given enough incentive, you’ll run through in a dash and waste twenty dollars.

But your ride currently is nuzzled into the shirt of her brand-new boyfriend. It won’t be so bad. These things are usually too quick to get your money’s worth anyway. The corn reaches high though, enough to hide everything from view as the end of the line comes closer and closer, and distant screams prompt eager giggles and glances. Yeah, these kinds of things have never been your strongest suit. A group of teens behind you engages in happy chatter as you softly tap a rhythm into the half-muddy loam, glancing between your friends very briefly. Both couples glomp into one another in the wait, happy to walk the entire way in little pairs. Happy to hurry on without you too if push comes to shove, probably.

Prey instinct.

Maybe someone other than you will get scared enough to run, and maybe that will be distraction enough to forget about you and your inevitable anxiety. You take a deep breath, and let the fresh countryside air fill up your lungs- lovely, mixed with wisps of smoke machine and lingering scent of manure. Instead of psyching yourself out too much, listening to yet another trail of screams that grow further and further away, you turn to watch one of the two barely legal workers as the walky scratches obnoxiously.

“Tchhhk-we ca -end in —ther group.” The mousey looking kid has straggly hair that is tied in a low pony under an obnoxious red and yellow theme park cap, and looks about as pumped as you feel waving in the first two of your party down the correct path into the maze.

He gives an unenthusiastic spiel, and then swings open the gate before pressing a few buttons. “Two incoming.”

“Yup— tchh- also have so- lag on our—ne. Are y- changi— t- channel?”

Almost instantly as the couple disappears around a corner, you hear a few high pitched screams and giggles join the ones in the distance, and you cross your arms over your chest. Even though you try, your heart rate automatically rises when another scream rings out. The teen talks into his device for a moment again, and you brace yourself as you friends line up at the crooked little gate. After a second or so, a slight pinch moves between the teen’s brows, and he eyes leave his co-worker to stare into the field.

“-Saw s-eone… w-kin- around… premise. Pl—e advise.” The crackle of the device is loud enough to reach you, before another couple of screams cuts it off.

The screams are loud, high pitched and uncomfortable. They set hairs on the back of your neck up on end. “Huh.” As the dyed blond gives a wave, he aims himself at your group and says, “sorry, but you have to wait a few more minutes.” His little mousy walk from behind the stand annoys you more than it probably should. But you can’t help it. You want to be done with this, sooner rather than later. “Gimme five.” The kid gives his co-worker a quick mumble, before he disappears down into the one neat path between the corn, and you wait again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your heart beats steadily, but hard. Enough to have you wanting to nervously pace the small area of path, but choosing against it after all. The screams are fainter now, further away. Fuck this shit. As the sky lowers into an off-red sort of color, you finally speak up. Your roommate’s pretty eyes find yours. “Hey, can I walk along with you guys actually? I really… really don’t like this sort of stuff.” The noirette barely gives the accompanying blond a look, before letting out a little sigh.

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late anyway. We can head home quicker that way.” Her boyfriend doesn’t bother to conceal the way he rolls his eyes at you, but doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything either. Just wrap your arms around yourself and pull your sweater closer to your body. Only a few minutes pass where you all stand in silence, and the people behind joke among each other.

The other teen perched on the entrance eventually gives your group a little nod, and opens the shabby gate with the most monotone greeting. “Welcome to the Night Shift, Miyagi’s scariest paranormal experience. Please stay on the path and refrain from touching our ghosts.” His half-lidded expression and dead-tired wave of the arm almost make you want to smile, if only in understanding. But instead you shuffle along the damp path. “Enjoy.”

The two in front of you start off a liberal, bouncy pace, as your roomie prattles on, and your eyes scan the long path of corn before you. It sways softly in the wind, and the shade it casts is awfully cold. The rattling sound of leaves is the least of your worries though, trying to keep up with your friends. Your heart pounds in your chest, because above anything, it’s the quiet anticipation before the scare that gets to you. The steps get closer and closer to the first corner, and you know. You know how this stuff goes. But Mina gives a little glance back as her long hair sways along her back, ready to encourage you.

A jerk has you all skittering back. Mina and your screams sound in harmony in the cooling night. The pale white face that jumps out at the three of you is a gaunt, gross version of some kind of thready zombie— and makes an awful scratchy sound. “Give your souls. Give your souls.”

Its closeness to your face is enough to make you stumble, ignoring the laughs. But the ghost doesn’t immediately leave, instead crowding you for long enough to have you covering your ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. The rapid pounding of your blood reaches your cheeks. You hate this stuff, from the ache of your chest to the uncomfortable closeness, and you try to calm down.

The ghost has you almost slinking into the corn to escape, before you can finally walk on.

Your friends are almost at the next turn already, and it feels to get darker by the second. Mina has her arm clamped in her boyfriend’s arm, whose smug grin flashes when you hurry on. “Ty, wait! Guys! This isn’t funny-” your voice fails you almost as soon as they reach the next corner way before you do, and disappear from view, “come on, please?” The scream that follows only has you hesitating more, feet slowing as you stand in the now-almost completely dark field. “Guys, this isn’t funny! Wait for me!” you try again, and come to a halt before even the next turn.

All of this is so fucking stupid. If you weren’t such a baby, maybe you’d be unbothered by this turn of events. You even predicted it, didn’t you? Your eyes sting, both from the adjustment of light, and the adrenaline pumps through you— before you set another few steps.

It can’t be that far. It can’t be that scary. It’s just stupid employees in masks. A scream that must be Mina’s rings out further along than you hoped they’d be- and has you balling your fists. If only you can get past, maybe you can catch up to them.

Either way, you’ll have to face more ghouls before the night is over.

And—

Crack.

A scream, behind you.

Your feet fail to start, and goosebumps raise all the way up your legs and back. There’s a whole myriad of noise, a loud bubble of screams that sounds much too close for comfort. They squeal and cry out for a painfully long few seconds. Long enough to push past rational thought before it goes near-quiet again.

And your heart patters on in your throat.

There’s a range of sounds you prepare yourself to hear when you go to any sort of horror experience. The dull, repeated thump, and the long sort of moan— that sounds out above the wind, isn’t really one of them. The cold climbs up your arms and chest before you can gather yourself. The moan isn’t like anything you associate with a ghost. It’s low and groany and continues for a long time, like a wounded animal— and lasts only until a heavy noise snuffs out the plea.

And - the instinctual part of your mind tells you to hide.

It’s gone dark. It’s gone quiet.

If Mina hasn’t made it to the end yet, you can’t hear her. 

Ever so slowly, your thoughts start up again, as you keep your ears wide open for any sound at all. There’s only the soft fluttering of the wind playing through the leaves. Before, as if under the breath of something larger, the sound of scraping leaves against clothes and the nervous rustling of someone moving through the field to your left makes you hold your breath. Your hands move over your mouth to clamp down the stuttered sound of your breathing.

You don’t know why, but it’s something in the air. The irregular noise, the lack of any other sound, and you staring into the darkness… screams at you. An animalistic feeling of threat, whispers that something is wrong. Your hands shake too hard to control. After a little bit of a pause, the noise returns. It’s a second of struggle, before another dying murmur sounds out, louder, closer, and then more shoving. More hacking. Your lungs feel like they’re squeezed too narrow, and your anxiety doesn’t allow for any other thoughts than a prey’s panic.

The nervous rustling gets louder and louder by the second.

Can’t you just step out of the experience? You don’t want to do this anymore— the childish part of your brain begs, and though you want to, you can’t make yourself move. Your lips stay tightly shut. The rustle to your left takes a more rapid pace, before it finally, finally grows a bit quieter again, and you manage to take a breath- pinched and wheezy.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Run.

Your ribcage aches under the pressure of your heart.

Only seconds before the noise would turn the corner, you find yourself stepping back and squeezing yourself between the stalks of corn, shaky hands grabbing and pushing yourself to hide.

Far enough to blot out the last bit of light of the evening, and have you squeezing yourself back until you’re a few feet from the path. You can’t see much, but the darkness adjusts quickly. Then, it’s quiet. The fine hair on your arms stands upright as soft taps get closer, and closer, and closer. And the corn doesn’t feel like enough of a shield.

Another scream comes from the way your friends ran off— girly, shrill and true— it lasts barely a second, but echoes for longer.

… Mina. It’s quiet.

Whatever stupid game is being played, you suddenly decide you want no part in it, and the cold wind ruffling the blades above your head feels like the only disguise for you and your anxious breaths. The footsteps reach, and slowly move past as the air gets stuck in your throat. You’re no fighting champion, and yet, your first instinct is to squeeze your fists tighter.

Only a dark figure can be made out from where you’re hidden, but the head is white, some kind of ghoulish looking mask. Ghost like, if not for the black stitches and blood. The presence is more pressing— it grates with each step. For a tiny moment, the figure stops in his tracks to scan around, and it gives you the flash you need to see that the thumping is caused by the heavy metal tool he periodically swings out and taps onto the floor.

It’s like an elongated butcher’s knife, wide and coated with glittering, royal red that drips down the pristine edge of the blade. Carrying the thick smell of copper behind him. And you’re freaked out enough to conclude it looks real. It can’t— can’t possibly be.

As soon as he passes you for enough time for you to steady your heartbeat, you sneak out of your hiding spot— before you hurry back down the way you came. Your every step feels too loud, and though you try to make sense of what you’re feeling, it comes out in a wobbly line of wetness along your eyeline. With another few step you make it around the corner and—

falter in your step.

There’s blood everywhere. Hands, throat, the huge gash in between the neck and shoulder that reveals flesh and tissue and bone, and oozes a vile smell of blood unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. It’s all encompassing. The previously scary ghost is reduced to nothing more than a sad heap of fleshy canvas for the layer of blood that pools around them.

You can’t think. Can’t breathe.

Blood, blood, there’s so much blood everywhere.

On your shoes, on their ghouly face, on your hands as you kneel down and find it disturbingly warm and sticky and real. The feeling of dry heaving takes over you, and you stand with trembling- everything.

Your heart pounds. Eyes are blurry and make everything a little hard to navigate. You want out of this stupid fucking game. It wasn’t fun to begin with, and it definitely isn’t now. Out, out, all you want is out. This is a nightmare, or the worst practical joke ever. You wipe your involuntary tears with a shaky hand as you walk, only to find yourself letting out a squeak when the red gets onto your face. You rub your cheek onto your shoulder, speeding up— and barely allows for wheezy, heavy breaths of air.

By the time you get back to the gate, you’re almost blinded by your tears. But even your tears can’t hide the growing terror that remains. The group of teens never made it into the path. They lay clumped in a mess of bodies and blood, one of them hanging over the posts with blank, dead eyes- and a horrifying wound that nearly severs his head from his neck. Everything is covered in blood, from the ground, to the clothes, faces, the neat red-yellow uniform- it all has soaked and turned a dirty, off-maroon color that seems to fit the smell emanating from the scene.

You can’t help it, you heave over onto your knees and nothing but some pure acid comes out as you try to look around. This is real. Real. It can’t be, but it is.

Your choked noises of panic ring through your ears wiping your mouth on your sleeve, along with a loud buzzing that goes back and forth, back and forth, back and forth when-

The footsteps suddenly have you turning around, and screaming. The man’s here. You scramble up and jump onto the wooden fence to swing your leg over, but a heavy hand grabs a fistful of hair and yanks you back as you yelp out loud, and grab at his wrists.

“Let me go! Let go!” Your scalp feels like it’s tearing apart with the force when you land onto the cold floor, and the ghoul’s face comes to hover over yours— your tears don’t allow for proper breaths as you cling onto his arm and dig your nails in. “I wanna go home~” your cried, pathetic whimper is all that comes out as you stare, and in the pits of the blacked out eyes, olive irises stare back.

The man raises his other hand, and everything goes black.

+

When you come to, there’s an awful stench that you taste more than smell. You’re so dizzy, and your eyes blot with black clouds everywhere you look— for much too long. Your nose clogged with thick coats of blood hurts, as you roll onto your belly with a groan and cough against the strained pressure.

Fuck, everything hurts.

There’s a bubble of noise around your head that pops in and out of focus each time you blink, and breathe. Crack, it pops. And squelch, squelch, crack. You try to raise yourself off from the cold, damp floor, but a heavy shove to your side has you landing on your sore shoulder, and staring up at the sky with shallow gasps. A hand slaps your face sideways hard, you’re heaved up, and suddenly everything floods back to you. The blood. You try again to right yourself, and your head spins as you try to shake off the cotton that’s filling your head and pushing on your brain.

You’re aching, and your mouth is full of blood.

It’s only when you try to focus on your environment that you manage to make out the muffled crying of a woman — and your head snaps up. Mina’s bound, gagged, and she’s got mascara tracks all down her face and cheeks, and her hands lay uselessly on her lap. Dripping with blood. It’s only after much too long that you notice that the figure that’s moving in your periphery is landing a huge axe over and over again into what’s left … of a human skull.

Blond hair is matted together with clots of blood, and it looks more like a soup than a head. The soft crack and squelch as the axe is pulled out of the floor has you crying out.

Oh god. You wish you were dead.

The figure has a black mask covering most of his face, and yet, you feel like you can see the smile between the narrow slits as he turns to you. The man leans into the handle of his blood soaked axe with all the weight of his tall but solid body. “Two little doves, one gets caught. One tries to fly, the other gets got.” Besides the ring of black around his eyes, you can’t see anything. Your lip wobbles as you breathe, and stare.

“It’s a nursery rhyme. Fits, don’t you think?” His mouth is just barely visible under the forked plate that covers it, and pink lips curl up at the ends. “I know movies teach you to expect a lot of dramatics, but that’s all the drama you’re going to get from me, don’t worry.” He noisily pulls up his nose, before crouching down before you. “I’m Tooru, that’s Iwa. What’s your name?”

At the mention of a second name, you turn over your shoulder to see the figure of the man that caught you— white mask splattered with drying blood, crouched much too close behind you. Your voice dies in your throat, but a soft whimper still comes out. You can’t help it. Cold shivers run up your spine and make your entire body feel wooden.

“Tch.” Tooru gets up to lift the axe high above your head, and then brings it down towards you a few times. “Come on, don’t be like that.” He leans down to grab your roommate’s face, and shakes her with a glance towards you. “I already know this is Mina. Now you tell me yours.” Your nod is quick, and you breathe out your answer just as quickly as he comes back over to you, now scraping the sharp blade along your jaw. “Good girl.”

“Now you’ll be happy to know that you two were the finalists of our little game. Con-gra-tula-tions.” His sing-songy chant sets your skin on end. He stares at you with thinly veiled expectation, and you take a shuddered breath through your bloody nose.

“Thank you,” your voice is barely a mousy squeak.

And Tooru’s laugh comes out almost instantly, cheerfully rocking onto the back of his heels. Just a second, before he stands up again, long legs towering his shape above you. “Sadly enough there can be only one winner. So,” he pauses, eyes glittering with too much mirth, “Iwa, if you would.” The man who’s been sat basically glued to your backside for the whole time gets up to pet his hand over your hair a few times, before stepping over to Mina in silence.

“Wait, wait…” His butcher’s knife comes to rest on her shoulder as she cries the same pinched, pathetic patterns as you do. Tears and spit drenching into the gag in her mouth. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Shhh shh shh,” the dark masked one chants again, and his axe comes to pinch into your neck too, nicking the soft side of your throat with a sharp sting. “Here’s the question. Who is… the one that has to die?” He pushes the blade harder into your skin. “And you better answer, because Iwa likes killing pretty girls. I can’t guarantee what will happen if you think too long.”

“Wait…” you ask, looking into the panic filled eyes of the girl before you. You can see every thought, every regret in her face. “Wait, wait, please. I…”

“Three-”

“Wait!” you squeak now, eyes shifting between both men. “I can’t-”

“Two-” He mockingly moves the axe along your shoulder like a golfer, and your panic blossoms onto your tongue. “One.”

“Me,” you cry out instinctively, vocal chords aching. “Me, kill me.”

It stays quiet for what feels like an eternity, before Tooru lets out a soft chuckle. “Iwa’s right. You are cute. A sweet, little thing, aren’t you.” Then the other guy moves too quick for someone his size, and his weapon glides with one heavy swing right under her jawline in slow motion. The glittering edge of the knife in the moonlight arcs almost beautifully. Slicing through your former friend’s neck with a clean thwop, not enough resistance, before blood splatters on you, on him, on everything.

Her head falls before her body does, with a dull thump that sears into your brain.

And you-

Everything blanks.

You think you scream, but the buzzing and shaking is too loud to make out anything. All you know is that your crying gets worse, and you bury your face into your knees with a sob. Your thoughts are a wiry, tangled ball of terror that comes out in faint pants only, and shaky fingers that curl around your knees. The axe drops to your side before two hands land on your head and slide down to yank you back up to face him, and Tooru’s lips get close enough to you to feel the puff of air on your face. “Shhh, doll. It’s alright now. You did so well.”

“You talk too much,” the more gravelly tone of the other man hits your psyche like a shovel, and has you sobbing into the soft touches along your cheeks.

“I’m setting the mood, Iwa-chan.”

The white masked man steps over the body to your side much too casually, before kneeling down beside you. “Set it in silence for once.” To your horror, his eye contact doesn't wane when you cry harder. In fact, he seems to think for a second, before grabbing your arm in his heavy, warm palm and pulling you closer. “C’mere. You’re gonna be good. Okay?”

“I- I,” you stutter, and pull up your snotty, wet nose again, before he leans in to slide his head into the crook of your neck, and moves the mask up a few inches. Only to press a few kisses along the bare skin, and up to your jaw. If you weren’t so mortified, maybe you’d fight. If you weren’t so shell-shocked, you’d take the weapon to your side and swing it around until it stops.

But his low, impatient grunt against your pulse has you going quieter. “You’re going to be good.” It isn’t a question. “Understood?”

“Yes…” It tastes wrong in your mouth, like the bloody taste that slides from your nose to your mouth, and everything that’s gotten onto your shirt, shorts, on every extremity now. After another second of raising your heartbeat so much you’re halfway to passing out, he finally moves— to press his lips against yours for a second, and slots the mask back in place. If you were any more lucid, maybe you’d be able to comprehend what will follow next. “Take off your top,” the quieter one mumbles, as he starts unbuckling his own belt.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Tooru then chants, too playfully, taking your hands and moving them above your head. As they rise, you feel the sudden feeling of terror flood over you again, shuddering as the fabric is pulled up and wipes past the mix of fluids on your face. You stay like that though, letting him maneuver you like a toy until your shirt lands beside you, and he then starts work on your bra. “Aren’t you a pretty one, hm? Cutie.”

The way he drags his fingers along your shoulder to push each strap aside one at a time is infuriating, but aside from lowering your arms to the side, you don’t— can’t stop them from unhooking and letting the bra join the clothes. Iwa’s quick to perk up at the sight of you, halfway to shouldering Tooru aside to take a good look. And though he doesn’t speak, the soft grunt and way he goes to cup himself over his pants says plenty. Your soft hiccups start back up at that. You don’t want to. You don’t want to one bit- and yet there’s nothing you can tell your body that would make you move. Not fast enough, at least. Tooru simply shakes his head. “You’re a real romantic.”

“Don’t need to be-” His fingers slide up your side before grabbing a handful of your tits and squeezing, as he gets closer on his knees. “Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, Shittykawa. Start taking off your fucking clothes.” His hands roam along your cold skin, brushing playfully against your peaked nipples a few times before he looks back at your face. “You’re gonna take that pretty little mouth and place it on my cock. And if you bite me, I’ll pull each of your teeth out of your skull before you die.” His thumb swipes along your bottom lip, before pushing in and dragging the pad along your tongue. “Understood?”

Your voice loses all volume when he slides the digit deep enough to choke you up, before he pulls back briefly. “Mhm.” Tooru to your side doesn’t make haste in taking anything off, and seems to glitter at the brief attention you give him as he unbuttons the black dress shirt, revealing a toned chest and arms. He’s littered with scars, and somehow, that only makes everything more real. Before you’re able to think it through, you start crying again, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the backs of your hands along your lashes like a child. “I…” You’re unable to stop. “I - I don’t- I wan- wanna go home— I-”

“Agh, fuck.” Someone speaks, but unlike the anger you expect to be met with, he groans it, delighted more than anything. Your eyes open when hands cup your face and you’re laid down onto the cold ground with a swift motion, and Tooru’s inhuman mask stares back at you— only revealing a wide grin. “Stupid girl. You can’t go home. You’re going to be our play thing until we get bored of you, or you stop being useful-” He dips down to an uncomfortable few inches from your face, and pinches your cheek until it hurts. “And then, you’re going to end up chopped into little pieces and buried in a shallow grave. Heh, how dumb are you? You wanna go home?” His mocking tone hurts almost as much as the sharp glare.

You can’t help it, you cry harder, and try to get from under his heavy body to hide your face— but that only faces you with the horrifying reality of your friends’ fate. “Wanna cry to mommy and daddy about it?” As he gets close enough to almost brush his lips over your ear, a soft chuckle comes out. “You better not tell Iwa-chan that. He’s really mean when he gets jealous.” He moves to pry open your mouth and slides two long fingers in without warning, having you choking again and spluttering around. “Now be a good girl. Or don’t be. Doesn’t matter to me.” Your tongue squirms uncomfortably as the fingers invade your throat and make it feel like you’re drowning in your own spit- with desperate puffs of air through your nose as you cry.

“Move that way,” Iwa grunts after a few seconds, before staring at the wobbly line along your eyes again. “Guess I get to go first.” There’s a distinct lilt of amusement that hangs over everything he says as he grabs your leg and yanks you up to start pulling your shorts down. Finally Tooru pulls back as you cough, spit leaking out of the sides of your mouth— before he too starts taking off the last of his clothing and hums softly to himself.

“Isn’t she really sexy when she’s pouting like this?” His gleaming praise is paired with a sharp tap to your cheek, as he peeks out a sliver of his tongue. “Crying like a desperate, little slut.” He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything in between your sobs before he grabs himself at the base and leans over you to press his cock head to your mouth. “You’re just a hole for us to abuse, you know that?” Something in the back of your mind begs for you to bite him, but almost as if he can smell your intent, his hand wraps around your throat and pushes, hard. “Try something and you’ll wish I was just being mean all over, cutie.”

“Gotta fit us, baby,” the other voice speaks, and makes you want to sink through the floor. Your body can’t stop crying, and the anger you feel is almost equal to your fear. It’s not enough to let you ignore them. They have to demand your attention too. “Pretty little cunt.” He starts rubbing your pussy up and down with rough fingertips, then spits and spreads around the wetness before he almost immediately pushes two fingers in dry— and it makes you jerk at the uncomfortable feeling of your body being invaded.

“I think she likes it when it hurts, Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s playful tone makes you want to scratch and bite and tear his head off. It just has you crying your eyes shut though, and lay there shaking. What other choice do you have? His tone doesn’t change as he demands attention by rubbing your tits and squeezing until you squeak. “That’s a good toy.” The rubbing and prodding does start to allow your wound-up muscles to loosen up a bit, but when the hand between your legs pulls back, you’re still not nearly wet enough. Iwa’s strong thighs under yours cause your hips to be aligned with his, as he grunts, as he looks, as he all but eats you up with his eyes.

But that’s all you get before Tooru’s patience wanes and he prods open your mouth, and starts feeding you his cock. “Ah, there you go, little crybaby. Open wide.” The taste of his precum on your tongue along with the bucking into your cheek makes you open your eyes to look up, and to your surprise, his mask has been discarded too. There’s a healthy flush on his cheeks, and in any other situation, you’d be taken aback by how pretty he is. Instead he grabs a hand of your hair and forces his flushed cock down your throat, as you try not to panic further. The feeling hurts. It hits the back of your mouth as your tongue squirms around him and he makes you heave—

and the hot, heavy cock that was pressed against your mound is now also pushed in you with a low, gravelly moan. There’s an ache inside you that is impossible to ignore as he fills you up inch by inch and the stretch really hurts, going into pleasure too quickly. You shouldn’t- you know you shouldn’t, don’t want to- you swear, you swear. Everything is too much. The cock in your throat makes you gag as Iwa bottoms out, grabbing your hips and anchoring himself inside you. The warm cloud of pleasure that spreads through you is painfully overwhelming. “Tight fucking pussy- god-”

The one closest groans out your name, as you feel his cock pound on your tongue. “Ain’t she just- so- gh-good?” Tooru’s flash to yours and the big, brown irises that look back at you make you shiver. He pulls back to beam down at you with what you could almost call a serene smile, as his cock jerks against your cheek and his hand runs down your body. Your pussy clenches as the rhythm of Iwa’s cock pistoning in and out of you starts feeling more than just painful— and wetness starts allowing him to slide in with a wet squelch. When a tiny moan comes out of your mouth, Tooru giggles, and leans in. “Don’t you like it a little too much? Having two bad men fucking you? After what happened-”

“Leave her be Oikawa- ugh,” Iwa groans from behind his mask, hiking you up to speed up the rhythm inside you, “don’t bully our new pet… Ah, fu~ck.” The loud paps of skin meeting skin is all you can hear, as your back lifts off the cold ground and his cock rocks into the best part of your walls. Your body is strung tight enough for every touch to feel better than the last, even the twitching of the drooling cock head as it’s smeared on your lips. “She feels so good.” 

“I’m just teasing. Right, little one?” You don’t fight the urge to stick your tongue out and lick along the glossy slit of his cock, and Tooru grabs your head to keep you there. “Oh sh-, see? She likes it. She likes getting fucked like she’s nothing. Just a greedy little cunt and throat, huh?” He moans as you wrap your lips around him again, and narrows his eyes at your face. “‘S all you’re good for.” The thumping vein on your tongue is thrust back into your mouth, and you cry as he fucks all the precum down your throat before pulling back.

“Ah, ah, ah~” Your whimpering is beyond you, as you cling to the arm of the one closest to you. You’re completely gone. The tingling all over your body is all you can feel, the heat of them over you and inside you as you cry and moan and whine, and the hands roam on your body. Each time Iwa bottoms out in you, your body jerks from the pleasure and impact, and Tooru’s eyes seem to darken as you blubber around the base of his cock for air. He doesn’t falter when he turns to stare at the other man instead, and keeps you down there. “She’s close, hurry it up.” 

“I want to cum inside,” Iwa immediately says back, and though you can’t see the frown you hear it’s there. He’s still fucking right into that spot that’s making you almost crosseyed, so they’re not even wrong. His deep voice rumbles as he thinks, and his strong, muscular shoulders square. All the while you’re trying to cum up for air, and Tooru threads his fingers through your hair. “You’ll have to wait a little for your turn.”

Your lungs ache and your vision goes spotty from being choked so long, before the brunet finally lets you jerk back off his drooling, spit-coated cock to take a deep breath, and let out a cry. Still each pump of Iwa’s body against yours taps your puffy clit, and winds that coil even tighter in your belly. Your dripping cunt clenches all the same, even as tears dry on your face. “Well, you heard the guy, cutie. He needs to breed that pretty pussy. So you’ll have to put up with me for a little while longer.” He slides his cock along the back of your tongue, before rolling his hips into you with a long moan.

You're going to cum. Oh no, you're actually going to fucking cum from this.

Tooru must know, because his eyes glitter as he meets yours, and licks his lips. “But you don’t mind that, right, pet?”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[ivorydragoness44]

Warren Peace x Reader: Interest

Word Count: 766 Warnings/Notes: Slightly confused Reader, mention of growing embarrassment (brief), friends asking a lot of questions, implied crush on Warren Peace. Cute moment with Warren. Summary: The Reader is a little late to lunch, but just before they make it to their table of friends, another student asks them out. How will the group of friends react to the news?

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  It was not usual for you to be a little late to lunch. Sure, it was only by a few minutes, but you were hungry.   With your lunch finally in your grasp, you made your way around the tables already occupied by the normal chatter of other students. Normal may not have been the best word choice for minors with super human abilities, but it was for you. Most days.   You caught Layla’s attention as you neared the table. Her friendly smile, however, was lost to you as your view became obstructed.   Halting with a piercing squeak of your shoe, you waited in confusion.   “Hey,” he said. A student that you recognized from a few of your classes stood in front of you.   “Hi,” you gave a small smile in acknowledgement.   He took a moment’s breath and scratched the back of his head. “Um…”   “Is everything okay?”   “Do you want to go out with me?”   Your eyebrows shot up. “What? I-I mean, no. No, thank you.”   A strange mixture of emotions bubbled around and you made a mad dash around him before the heat of embarrassment from a few fumble of words spread. With long quick strides, you finally made it to the lunch table.

  Is being a teenager always like this? Why were emotions so complicated some times?   “What was that about?” Layla asked, bringing you out of your thoughts.   Setting down your food, you took a deep calming breath and sat down beside Warren. “Oh, um, he asked me out.”   A page crinkled to your right, but your friends were otherwise quiet.   Layla leaned forward, her pigtails swaying slightly over her green salad. “And?”   “And I said no.” Confident. Self-assured with your decision, though seemingly small in comparison to other more pressing issues, felt good. And why shouldn’t you?   “Good for you,” Magenta nodded in agreement.   “But why?” Zach asked, his nose scrunching in his bewilderment. “Do you not like him or something?”   “It’s not that simple,” you said between bites of your food.   “And why not?” He pressed, making you laugh a little.   Patting a napkin over your mouth, you sighed quietly. “Well, firstly, I’m not going to go out or date someone that I don’t like, or not interested in. Heck, I’ve barely talked with him.”   Layla and Magenta nodded slowly. “Sounds reasonable enough.”   “Any other reason?” Will asked, peering over Warren’s hunched form.   You laughed, “What, you want a detailed list or something?”   “That sounds a bit excessive,” Warren smiled into his book.   “Unless the list is for myself, out of curiosity and to better understand my own reasons and stuff.”   “And what would you put on the list for that guy?” Ethan asked, pulling your attention away from Warren.   It was nearing on hilarious by how invested they were about such a short conversation. If it could even be considered a conversation.   “For one thing, he never returned the pen he borrowed from me, and I saw him break it while fiddling with it. So, there’s that.”   Will burst out in laughter. “Is that why you don’t want to date him? Because—”   “No,” you stopped him. “I just don’t like him. Especially in that way. If I’m not friends with, or just can’t even imagine myself holding his or anyone’s hand, then I’m not going out with them.”   “Oh,” Will looked down, “sorry.”   “No biggie,” you smiled reassuringly, before returning to what remained of the food in front of you.

  Curious concerning friends. You were grateful for that. They each showed it in their own ways. And as invested as they had become, you were relieved that neither one of them had asked one question in particular. Who are you interested in?   Your eyes drifted from your lunch to the inky text in front of Warren. “Good book?”   Glancing over at you with a smile, his voice was soft, warm. “Yeah. It’s the third in the series.”   “Cool.”   As your eyes both pulled away from each other, you caught movement from under the table. The motion was slow and short. Had you been deeply involved with something else, you might have missed it entirely. Warren had lightly bumped your knee with his.   Could you ever decipher if he was flirting with you or just being a delightful silly friend with gestures like those? You were not sure. But one day you would know, and you hoped that it was both. Why not?   Smiling to yourself, you nudged your knee to his twice. Though as you retracted, his knee met yours again and remained there.   This should be interesting.

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Hi! Thank you for reading! I seem to be writing more Warren Peace now lol I have other ideas/WIPs that I'm working on, so I hope you're ready for that.

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Part 2 to this fanfiction

[milunalupin]

Could you do some regulus for valentines writing?

thank you for your patience, hope you enjoy :) and happy valentine's day to everyone <3

— candy grams

regulus black x reader ★ 772 words

The end of January was a cold and quiet time at Hogwarts. The holiday cheer has gone and winter truly makes itself known. Regulus Black found himself sitting in a empty nook in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, going over his Ancient Runes essay. Shoes squeaked floors below as the other students ran outside to play. Fluffy snowflakes fell past the tall windows, Regulus' eyes flickering out the window every few minutes to watch the snowfall. If he allowed himself to, he might admit to liking this time of year. Winter meant cozy sweaters and hiding out in his dorm, reading muggle poetry books charmed to look like a spell book.

The chattering and laughter of students exiting their classes began to fill the halls, Regulus sighing softly as his peace and quiet had come to an end. He collected his things and stored them back in his satchel, making his way down the stairs past the Charms classroom. The way down to the Slytherin common room was a longer one but Regulus took his time as he was in no hurry.

A girl with a white ribbon in her hair rushed past him, but stopped and turned when she realized he was there, a smile quickly making it's way onto her face. Regulus had seen her around, a muggleborn witch with an affinity for all magical things.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, I know you may be on your way to class or something important, but I'm selling candy grams for the upcoming holiday if you're interested in one?"

Candy gram? What the hell was a candy gram? Regulus supposed this is that 'dumb lovey muggle shit' Barty was talking about the other day. Walburga would be nothing less than disgusted if she found out he spent a single knut on a muggle object. He gives her a weird look and shook his head, declining silently.

"No worries! Have a lovely day!"

Her pretty smiled faltered but it came back up just as quick as it fell. She waved at him before dashing back down the stairs.

Regulus blinked, feeling his chest tighten slightly, shaking it off and continuing his path down to the dungeons.

Days have passed an Regulus is still wondering what a candy gram is. His mind continues to wander back to the girl and the ribbon in her hair as he leaves his last class of the day, spotting his brother's friend walking alone down the hall. He looked around to make sure no one of importance was watching him and quickly caught up to the tall Gryffindor.

"Lupin."

Remus turned in surprise as his best friend's little brother stands beside him. He notices what he believes to be nervousness masked by his composed stature.

"Regulus, can I help you?"

"What's a candy gram?"

Now Remus is truly confused. Why has Regulus Black stopped him and asked him what a candy gram is? He must have been making a strange face because Regulus glared up at him and crossed his arms.

"You're a half bre- blood, aren't you? If you don't know, then just forget any of this happened." He scoffed, waving his hand dismissively and turning to walk away. He only made it halfway down the hall when Remus called after him.

"It's for Valentine's Day. You buy candy for someone you care about, usually your friend, partner, or a crush."

Regulus' ears burn Gryffindor red as he walks away silently.

Regulus sees her again a week later. She had just returned from the Hogsmeade trip, white snowflakes sprinkled in her hair. Checking his surroundings, he carefully walked up to her as she spelled the snow off of her, quickly fixing his hair.

"Would you still happen to be selling those candy grams?" He asked, entranced by the small hairs framing her face that started to curl due to the snow.

"Absolutely! They're 15 sickles." She beamed, digging through her bag and pulling out a piece of candy with a little card attached. He handed her a few coins and opened the card up, following her finger as she pointed to two lines on the inside.

"You just write your name here, and then the person you're giving it to, here."

He stared down at the empty lines, then back at her with a small smile.

"I'm going to have to get your name then."

Her eyes widened, and Regulus had hoped it wasn't just the cold that turned her cheeks pink. Safe to say he's found another reason to like this time of year, and she wore a white ribbon in her hair.

[justhereforsomethingnice]

I almost never see Amorpho being used as a ghost character in Danny Phantom fanfic but I think he has huge potential. If not for the plot then at least for the gossip friend role. Let’s say Danny can transform too, maybe he learned it from Amorpho, maybe it’s a new power, maybe it’s a curse, who the duck knows.

Just two cats staring deeply into each others eyes before looking at you as you pass the street before nodding to each other and giving a kitty laugh. Are they mocking you? Who knows, they’re cats, that’s their thing.

A Robin and a crow, chattering to each other in the most annoying caw twitter combination. Flying up and both dumping some birdshit on one Dash Baxters new car. What a weird coincidence.

An opossum with a singular smaller oppossum clinging to it. The big one is making weird human like gestures and making growls noises as if explaining to the little one. Later that day your neighbors entire pillow and blanket collection has been stolen and later found back two streets further along filled with gray and white hairs and is that cat puke?

Danny walking into the school and getting bullied by a random person and him just getting a shit eating grin, whispering something in their ear that makes them leave Danny alone for the rest of their school career. Was it blackmail? A weirdly effective threat? Where and how did he learn that.

Two raccoons stealing nasty burger meals from customers.

Just, the opportunities!!! If someone knows something like this, let me know please🥺

[hauntedestheart]

Security Footage - Ghosts

One of Trevor & Andy's misadventures, a more detailed account of the sort described in Security Measures - Ghosts

"Beach day!" Andy exclaimed, letting out a whoop and charging down the sand towards the water. Trevor followed behind him, shaking his head affectionately at the sight of his boyfriend dashing about like a golden retriever let off the leash.

The two college boys were something of a mismatched couple- Andy was a textbook hunk, a tall jock with muscles to match and an outgoing personality, whereas Trevor was a mid-sized twink who was exactly as shy as he looked. But the two of them were childhood friends who, after a body-swapping incident that Trevor was still embarrassed about, put aside their differences once they realized that they were actually deeply in love with each other.

It was their three week anniversary, which Trevor thought wasn't a big deal but Andy insisted that every moment of their relationship was important ("I wanna make up for lost time," he said) so the two boys had made the ninety minute drive down to the beach for a romantic picnic on the sand, just the two of them. Truth be told Trevor didn't love the beach, but he loved Andy, so he just smiled and nodded as Andy chattered on about how excited he was.

(Besides, he got to watch his hunky boyfriend get soaking wet in swim trunks, so it's not exactly like he was suffering.)

The two of them set up their blanket and nibbled on the tapas Trevor had prepared for a bit before Trevor sighed and told Andy to go swim- he was making more eyes at the water than he was at his boyfriend. The bigger boy grinned apologetically, gave Trevor a peck on the lips, and then tore down the sand and dove into the water.

Trevor reclined on the blanket and watched as Andy paddled out deeper into the waves, his powerful body pushing him out against the surf far deeper than a homebody like Trevor would have dared to venture- he got the sense that there was no way his boyfriend would let the trip end without the two of them taking a dip together, so he resolved to enjoy being dry while he still could. The calm called to him and he let his eyes drift closed for a moment, lulled into relaxation by the gentle crash of the waves and the warm kiss of sunlight on his face, and for once he felt like he could let his guard down.

His peace was interrupted when a strange sort of chill ran up the back of the young man's spine and his body gave an involuntary tremor- a strange sensation to encounter on a warm day in the sun -and something about the feeling gave Trevor a sense of unease. Whatever the intrusion was it had made his skin tingle and tugged at something deep down that felt vaguely familiar for some reason.

"Damn it!" someone whispered.

Trevor's eyes flicked open in a confusion only to find that he was alone with none of the other beachgoers anywhere near him- but he was certain he'd heard a voice right in his ear. Had he just imagined it? Despite his growing suspicions nothing nearby seemed amiss, so he shook his head and tried to put the nerves out of his mind.

An easy distraction presented itself in the shapely form of Andy, who had finished his swim and was making his way back over towards their spot. He rose from the sea like he was on an episode of Baywatch, glistening drops of water cascading down his muscles and swimsuit clinging sinfully to every curve of his lower half, and his body had bounce in all the right places as he sauntered across the sand.

Trevor's first instinct was to avert his eyes, look away in shame before anyone noticed him ogling the gorgeous college stud, but then he remembered that he didn't have to do that anymore. That hunky man over there was his, out and openly, and he had nothing to be afraid of anymore. So instead of shrinking back he let his eyes devour the full course meal in front of him with gusto, and he savored every crumb.

Andy stopped right in front of Trevor and gave a cocky little wink and popped his pecs when he realized he was being admired. His smile was brighter than the sun, and Trevor was so enamored that didn't even mind that his soaking wet boyfriend was dripping water all over him.

Andy gazed down at Trevor with excitement. "You gotta get in there, it feels amazing!"

"Don't mind if I do!"

Trevor's forehead furrowed in confusion- again, it sounded like someone had just whispered something right beside him, and he was about to mention it when something strange caught his eye. A cloud of pale blue hung in the air, translucent but too solid to be merely a trick of the light, and for a split second Trevor thought he caught a glimpse of a smiling face.

Then, before he could react, the wispy mass dove straight for Andy's face.

Andy gave a small yelp of surprise, which turned out to be a mistake because the apparition shoved itself into his open mouth and slid down his throat as if it were some gelatinous mass, disappearing down his gullet effortlessly despite its large size. He swallowed instinctively and gulped the strangeness down, then a moment later he gave a small burp and wisp of something not-quite smoke puffed out of his mouth.

There was a queasy expression on his face as the young man's hands went to his midsection, clutching at himself as if he could feel something strange sliding around behind his abs, and his stomach began to gurgle. To Trevor's ears, it sounded like laughter.

"What the fuck?" Andy managed to sputter out, gritting his teeth as if his insides were tightening up, and then his chest jerked forwards, seemingly against his own will. He glanced down at his body in confusion, then up at his boyfriend with a look of fear on his face, then eyes crossed and he sank to the ground.

Andy's hulking body dropped like a sack of potatoes but thankfully the sand prevented his collapse from being too rough, and instantly Trevor was by his side. He quickly confirmed that Andy was still breathing, but that all he could do before his boyfriend began to convulse wildly and he was left to watch in terror.

Andy's body seemed to have lost control over its pronounced musculature, each individual muscle tensing and flexing as if they were moving on their own and making it appear as if his body were fighting itself. He jerked around wildly, limbs flailing as he waged some kind of war internally, and their uncontrolled movements sent him rolling over onto his stomach. Then he started humping the ground, hips flying up and down wildly with his big ass thrusting as he mashed his crotch into the sand, and grunts issued from somewhere deep within him. It was hard to tell if those were groans of pain, or of ecstasy.

He flipped over onto his back again, giving Trevor a look at his handsome face scrunched up with exertion, then with a yelp he gave one mighty hip thrust that sent his entire body airborne for a moment. When he hit the ground again he went still, with only the heaving of his massive chest to show that he was still alive.

"Andy? ANDY?" Trevor patted at his boyfriend's face, frantically trying to revive him, but before he could succumb to full blown panic Andy's eyes shot open.

The hunk bolted upright so rapidly that Trevor had to stumble backwards to avoid being slammed into, and then he lifted his hands and stared at them with a strange expression on his face.

"I'm in?" The young man asked, seemingly in disbelief of something, and he opened and closed his fingers a few times like he was experimenting with their movement. He took his hands and placed them on his chest, pressing into the meat of his pecs to test how solid they were, and the answer apparently delighted him because huge grin broke out on his face. "I'm in!" He cheered, then both of his hands flew down and clutched at his crotch. He cradled the prominent bulge in the front of his wet swim trunks, fingers rolling slightly as he probed at his genitals, and his eyes widened and his grin got even bigger. "Oh yeah baby, I'm back in business!"

"Back in business?" Trevor's heart began beating double time- something was wrong. He squinted at his boyfriend, watching as the young hunk began patting his hands all up and down his body like he was feeling it for the first time. "What are you talking about? Andy, you're not making any sense. What just happened? Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm just peachy!" Andy's face turned and he leered at Trevor, lecherously, and Trevor's stomach turned. His sweet boyfriend had never once looked at him like that- like he was nothing but a piece of meat. "I'm feeling better than ever. In fact, why don't you lean in and give me a smooch, sweet cheeks?"

Andy reached for him, lips puckered, but Trevor shrank away, taken aback by how his boyfriend was acting. His behavior was different, his way of speaking was different... a thought crossed Trevor's mind. It seemed impossible, but given what had happened between the two boys in the past, the impossible might be the usual.

"You're not Andy, are you?" Trevor ventured cautiously, watching from a safe distance as Andy squeezed at his pecs like a fruit vendor inspecting produce to see how fresh it was. "You're someone else inside of him."

Andy (or, what appeared to be Andy) stopped in his exploration of his body and look of surprise crossed his face, which then melted into a smirk. He rose to his feet and shook himself out, stretching his arms and legs the way someone would when slipping on a jacket for the first time and wanting to get a feel for it, and he whipped around to face Trevor.

"Oh, you're a smart one, aren't you?" He cackled, and his eyes flashed neon blue for a moment. A familiar chill ran down Trevor's spine. "Well I'm afraid your boyfriend isn't here right now, I'm just a friendly ghost taking his meatsuit for a spin. You don't mind, right?"

Trevor's mind reeled. "A ghost?"

"Oof, he's a big boy, isn't he?" The ghost rolled Andy's shoulders backwards, shifting his bulk around awkwardly for a moment as he settled in to his borrowed form. He lifted his arms into a double bicep pose, whistling in admiration as he watched the huge muscles flex, and he bounced them up and down. "I don't normally get to take over stallions like this, usually I can only get control of old people and weaklings. But this!" He took his fist and pounded at his abs, smiling at the meaty sound of flesh on flesh. "This is primo real estate baby. I hit the fucking jackpot!"

"This can't be happening..." Trevor muttered to no one in particular. The ghost nodded emphatically in agreement.

"You're telling me, I can't believe it!" The ghost's face (well, Andy's face) was lit up with excitement as he puffed his chest out, petting his hands appreciatively down his stolen physique. He was practically trembling with excitement, hands flying everywhere as if he couldn't decide which parts of Andy's studly form he wanted to molest first. "After I couldn't take over you I thought for sure I'd have no shot with the big guy but nope, his body sucked me in like a hoover! He was practically begging to be taken over!"

Why would Andy be weak to- Trevor pondered for a moment, and a sinking feeling came into the pit of his stomach when he made the connection. He vaguely recalled reading something about side effects to the swap spell he'd used several weeks ago to take over Andy's body, and this must be one of them. This is bad.

"You need to get out of him right now!" Trevor demanded, gathering together all of the authority he could muster, but he knew he had no sway in the situation- normally he loved how ripped his boyfriend was but at the moment it was a disadvantage because if it came to force the ghost could easily use Andy's body to pulverize him. But still, he had to be strong for his boyfriend and at least try to protect him.

Predictably, the ghost just laughed at him and shook his head. "No, what I need to do is get out there and have some fun! I can't let a stud like this go to waste!"

To illustrate his point he yanked down his shorts and Andy's cock and balls came flopping out, the tools hanging out in the open air, and the ghost whooped with glee at the sight. All of the attention the spirit had been lavishing upon Andy's body was starting to cause a reaction and his penis was already plump with blood, creating a rather obscene sight- and from experience, Trevor knew that this "problem" was only going to get bigger.

Trevor's eyes darted around nervously, acutely aware that his boyfriend's naked body was now on display at a public beach. "Put that away, somebody is going to see!"

"Somebody? I want everybody to see!" The ghost wiggled his hips from side to side and his new dick whipped through the air with gusto, eager to obey its new master's command, and the ghost seemed almost hypnotized by the movement. Trevor couldn't blame him- but he had to try to stop him.

Thinking quickly, Trevor grabbed the blanket out from beneath himself and attempted to wrap it around Andy's body so he could conceal his boyfriend's nude form from prying eyes, but the ghost took a big step back out of reach and the smaller boy wound up faceplanting in the sand instead. He somehow managed to get tangled up in the fabric, incapacitating him and making so all he could do was stare up helplessly.

He saw his boyfriend's body looming above him, a pillaring tower of muscle with bronzed skin gleaming in the sun, and when viewed from beneath Andy's manhood seemed almost impossibly massive. Andy's handsome face smirked down at him and he gave a cocky little flex of his muscles and it was one of the hottest things Trevor had ever seen, but in that moment, all it did was fill him with thread.

"Fleshies just don't get it- you're on this planet to have a good time, there's no room for shame! And your boy here has nothing to be ashamed of..." The ghost placed one hand on Andy's now hard cock and he shivered, giving one long, agonizingly slow stroke of the shaft before dropping it. "But I don't wanna blow my load too soon, I have a full day of fun ahead of me with my new toy!"

He bent down and pulled Andy's swim trunks back up, struggling for a moment as he tried to stuff his oversized boner into the shorts and only partially succeeding as the full outline of his hard cock was still plainly visible as it strained through the wet fabric. The ghost placed his hands on his hips and smiled down at his handiwork, then turned his attention back to Trevor.

"Chin up fleshie, you'll get him back!" He winked at the still prone boy. "After I'm done with him, of course. And look at the bright side! You get to watch me walk away." He turned and smacked his ass, his borrowed bubble butt bouncing up and down as he jogged away down the beach.

Trevor lay there, sprawled out on the sand, and watched as a ghost ran off to do god-knows-what while wearing his boyfriend's face. For a moment he felt powerless- poor Andy was going to be completely humiliated, or worse, and it was all Trevor's fault.

Then he untangled himself, grabbed his bag, and set off in pursuit. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was going to save his boyfriend no matter what.

Hopefully this is a one-time thing, he thought to himself... naively.

[dangerous-realms]

Who were you in a past life?

Plague doctor

You're a very old soul. Even this was not your first life. Something in your very genetic makeup led you to don the masks stuffed with herbs and flowers and follow the beckoning call of death all those years ago. When you died, it was with the knowledge that you next life would be something much cooler and more fulfilling.

"Actually, I was the one who started the Arkuks plague. Wiped out an entire realm with it before making a cure and storing both away for later use~."

[thatdammchickennugget]

Miss Competitive

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

warnings - fluff, camp counselor! enzo and reader, waterballoon fight

a/n - my first fic for Jinxed July using the waterballoon prompt. also I'm sorry but I won't be doing taglists at the moment

wordcount - 1.7k

The air felt like a thick, heavy blanket, suffocating in the worst way as you wiped the sweat from your forehead for the hundredth time that afternoon. The heat wave had turned the second day of summer camp into a sweltering furnace, making the idea of running around and playing games with the kids seem more like a punishment than a fun summer activity. The only relief was the shimmering expanse of the lake, its cool, inviting waters promising a brief respite from the oppressive heat.

You glanced over at Enzo, damp curls plastered to his forehead, his usual playful grin plastered on his face despite the sweltering weather. He was surrounded by a group of kids, all chattering excitedly about the zipline. It was a new addition to the camp this year, and it had quickly become the highlight for the campers.

Except for one.

Amidst the laughter and chatter, a little girl stood apart, her small frame rigid with fear. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at the zipline, and she was clutching her arms around herself as if trying to make herself smaller.

You recognized the look instantly. Fear, pure and simple. The kind of fear that made your heart race and your stomach twist. You exchanged a glance with Enzo, who gave you a quick nod before bounding over to the little girl with his trademark enthusiasm.

"Hey there, brave explorer," he called out, his voice bright and encouraging. "What's your name?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes, her lower lip trembling slightly. "M-Maddie," she whispered.

"Well, Maddie," Enzo said, crouching down to her level, "I'm Enzo, and this here is your trusty camp counselor sidekick," he gestured grandly towards you. "Who is totally awesome, by the way," he added with a wink in your direction.

You couldn't help but smile as you walked over, giving Maddie a reassuring smile. "Hey Maddie, don't worry. I know it looks a little scary from down here, but I promise it's really fun. And Enzo here is a zipline expert, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Enzo declared, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated manner. "In fact, I'm going to show you just how fun it is."

With that, he dashed over to the zipline platform, calling back over his shoulder, "Watch closely, Maddie! This one's for you!" He climbed up with the agility of someone who had spent his entire life at summer camps, shouting down tips and jokes as he went. You kept an eye on Maddie, seeing the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Enzo reached the top and gave a dramatic salute before launching himself off the platform. He let out a whoop of joy as he zipped down the line, wind whipping through his hair. He released the handle just in time, plunging into the lake with a massive splash that sent waves rolling to the shore.

The other kids cheered and laughed, and you saw Maddie's eyes widen, not with fear this time, but with something closer to wonder.

"See?" you said softly, kneeling beside her. "It's not so scary. Enzo just showed us it's like flying for a little bit before you get to cool off in the water. What do you think? Want to give it a try?"

She bit her lip, glancing back at the zipline, then at you. "Will you come with me?"

You smiled warmly, nodding. "Of course. We'll go together."

Hand in hand, you made your way to the zipline platform, the sun beating down but somehow feeling less oppressive with the promise of the cool lake just ahead. With each step, Maddie’s grip tightened on your hand, but you squeezed back reassuringly. You were determined to make this moment special for her, to turn her fear into joy.

When you reached the top, you took a deep breath and gave Maddie an encouraging smile. "Ready?"

She nodded, her face still a little pale but filled with determination. With one last reassuring look, you pushed off together. The wind rushed past, carrying away the heat and your combined laughter, and for a moment, it felt like you were both flying. The water below approached rapidly, and you released the handles, plunging into the refreshing lake with a splash. Maddie surfaced, her face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"You did it!" you exclaimed, and she giggled, splashing water at you.

The moment was perfect, but as you looked around, you noticed the other campers were starting to look restless. The novelty of the zipline was wearing off, and the oppressive heat was creeping back into their expressions.

Enzo seemed to notice it too. He caught your eye and winked as you swam back to shore to stand next to him, before raising a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. "Watch them for a moment," he whispered conspiratorially. Then, with a quick, playful salute, he dashed off towards the camp cabins.

Curious, you kept an eye on the kids, trying to keep them entertained. A few minutes later, Enzo reappeared, his arms laden with two buckets filled to the brim with colorful balloons. He had a mischievous grin plastered on his face, and you knew he was up to something.

“Alright, campers!” he called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “Who’s up for a surprise?”

The kids perked up instantly, their boredom forgotten. Enzo motioned for you to join him, and as you approached, he handed you one of the buckets. "Water balloons," he told you with a grin. "Nothing beats the heat like a good old-fashioned water balloon fight."

You laughed, feeling the excitement start to buzz through you. “Alright, campers! Let’s split into teams. I’ll take half, and Enzo will take the other half.”

The kids quickly gathered around, their faces lit up with anticipation. You and Enzo began dividing them into two teams, the friendly rivalry already sparking between you.

“Think you can handle the heat?” Enzo asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

“Oh, we can handle it,” you shot back, grinning. “Just make sure your team is ready to get soaked.”

The campers cheered, already fully invested in the competition. You crouched down to huddle with your team, whispering strategies and hyping them up. Across the field, Enzo was doing the same with his team, his animated gestures making the kids laugh and cheer.

The makeshift battlefield was set, with buckets of water balloons at either end. The sun blazed overhead, but the promise of the water fight made the heat more bearable. You straightened up, holding a balloon in each hand, and called out to him, “Ready when you are!”

Enzo stood, mimicking your stance with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Ready, set… Go!”

The field erupted into chaos. Balloons soared through the air, bursting on impact and sending cool water splashing in all directions. Shouts and laughter filled the air as the kids dashed around, ducking and dodging. You caught sight of Maddie, her earlier fear replaced by pure joy as she launched a balloon at one of Enzo’s team members.

You took aim and threw a balloon at Enzo, who dodged just in time, grinning wildly. He lobbed one back at you, and you barely managed to avoid it, the balloon splashing harmlessly onto the grass. “Is that all you’ve got?” you teased, grabbing another balloon.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Enzo retorted, launching another one your way. This one hit its mark, soaking your shirt and making the kids around you burst into laughter.

“Nice shot!” you admitted, laughing as you grabbed two more balloons and handed one to Maddie. “Let’s get him!”

The girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she took the balloon, and together, you launched a coordinated attack. Enzo was pelted from all sides, finally getting a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled back, dramatically clutching his chest. “Oh, the betrayal!” he cried, before collapsing into the lake with a final splash.

The kids roared with laughter, and you high-fived Maddie, grinning from ear to ear. The fight continued until every last balloon was gone, and the kids were thoroughly soaked but happy.

As the battle wound down, you and Enzo herded the campers back towards the shore, where they could dry off and rest. Enzo sidled up next to you, his usual playful grin still in place despite his drenched appearance. “Well, that was fun,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his.

“You call getting soaked fun?” you teased, bumping him back. “But yeah, it was. It was a great idea.”

“Anything for the campers,” he replied, his tone sincere. “And, you know, to see that competitive streak of yours come out.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. “Just admit it, Enzo. You’re glad you lost.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Never. But I’ll admit it was worth it to see everyone having so much fun. Even you, Miss Competitive.”

“Especially me,” you agreed, still smiling. “Thanks for making the day better.”

Enzo’s eyes twinkled as he looked at you. “Anytime,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of something more. For a moment, you both just stood there, the playful banter fading into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the campers filling the background.

Then, with a sudden, almost reluctant, smile, he straightened up and gave you a playful salute. “Duty calls,” he said, nodding towards the kids who were already clamoring for his attention again. “Catch you later, champ.”

As he walked off to join the kids, you found yourself watching him, a strange warmth spreading through you despite your soaked clothes. Was it possible that there was more to your relationship with Enzo than just friendship? His flirty comments, the way he always seemed to seek you out, the easy camaraderie between you—it all suddenly seemed to carry more weight.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. But as you watched him playfully interact with the kids, leading them in a game of water tag, the question lingered in your mind. 

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[killuagirly]

Ciel Phantomhive x F!Reader

Summary: Ballrooms are meant for dancing, but a young boy attending your party doesn't seem to agree with that statement. I wonder why that is?

Notes: I'm trying to write newer fics so I can delete my older works and redo my masterlists. It's like a complete overwrite of my blog essentially, I can't wait until it's done! It feels like my writing has gotten much better, and although they did get interaction before, I don't really want to keep old writing on my blog!! :(

CW: Nothing to see here!

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A ball, you had decided to host that night. You weren't too enthusiastic about the task of finding a suitor, but that's the weight that comes with being a lady of high status. Although you were young, prearranged marriages were common amongst aristocrats, you were no exception.

However, you drew the high end of the stick, and your parents were generous enough to allow you to attempt to find a suitor for yourself. They would have to approve of course, considering you were to be the next family heir, they wouldn't want you going off marrying someone without a well-known name. You weren't too upset about this condition anyways given that it was to be expected.

The task proved harder than you had assumed, but there was no pressure coming from any higher-ups, so you were in the clear for now. Still, it's better to start searching before your times of leisure end. The whole purpose of this ball, though not directly stated in any sent invitations, was to make the looking process a bit easier on yourself.

Interchanging melodies played in the ballroom as you chatted away with some of your guests, not finding anything that stood out to you in most. It wasn't like you were looking for a fairytale, although a girl could dream, just someone who wouldn't bore you to death. You had just finished up a conversation with a young man a bit older than you. He was polite and charming, but nothing special.

You let out a barely audible sigh once he turned and walked off in the direction of a crowd, feeling as though this mission was never-ending. You scanned slowly over the people chattering and indulging in food prepared for the party, until something caught your eye. A young boy who looked to be your age, and on the short side. He was dressed in a black and navy-blue formal suit with silver accents and held a stern expression on his face.

He must've been a wallflower, because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to engage in any conversation with other guests. A tall, elegant man stood by his side in classy servant's attire. Your curiosity was at a peak for the night, your feet guiding you effortlessly towards the pair. The young boy noticed you approaching and redirected his gaze elsewhere, most likely in an attempt to seem uninterested.

You ignored the indirectly rude gesture and sent him a smile, a sudden realization coming over you. This was the Earl Phantomhive you've heard about time and time again. You'd sent him an invitation, but you didn't actually expect him to attend. "Earl Phantomhive, so nice to meet you. I wasn't expecting you to show up," you greeted. He inaudibly sighed, his refined butler standing tall next to him edging him on.

"Yes, and you must be Lady [Surname]? It's nice to meet you as well, though I do question your low expectations of me," he spoke, although you couldn't tell whether it was sarcasm or seriousness. "Ah, I'm sorry. I just meant since you have such high status, I wouldn't have expected you to be bothered to attend a ball without business intentions." The Earl seemed bothered, as if he was internally agreeing with your statement.

The dashing butler beside him spoke up, "You see, my young master and I were notified that you were in search of a suitor. He is in a similar situation at the moment, and I do recall him speaking of you fondly," a devilish smirk played on his lips, watching his young master's face quickly become flushed, "So we decided it would be for the best to be in attendance in case you take any interest."

"I see," a smile tugged at your lips upon learning that the Earl Phantomhive had taken an interest in you, although you can't recall ever having met him before this encounter, "would you be so kind as to spare me a dance then, Earl Phantomhive?" The color seemed to drain from the boy's face as he searched for an excuse of some sort. He sighed, then slowly taking a breath, "I suppose so..." His butler chuckled, watching him take your hand and guide you into the crowd.

"You can address me as Ciel if you like," he said, not meeting your eyes. "Good to know! You can call me [Name]," you said with a smile as you moved your hands to proper position. The slow, romantic melody began playing throughout the ballroom and your feet moved in turn. Only a few steps in, you realized why Ciel had been so hesitant to dance with you. His movement lacked grace and he seemed incredibly nervous, making steps that didn't match the rhythm every now and then.

You held in a laugh and finally met his eyes, "So, Ciel, have you been caught up on your dancing lessons?" His cheeks flushed and he mumbled something that didn't catch your ears, "What was that?" you teased. "No, now will you be quiet?" he said in a tone that suggested he was less serious, and more embarrassed. You giggled and tried to help guide him further. As annoyed as he was, he did appreciate your efforts nonetheless.

Once the song concluded, his hands lingered on your form for a moment before taking a step back and kneeling to press his soft lips to your knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, my lady." He couldn't help the slight upwards curling of his lips when you smiled down at him with half lidded eyes. "My pleasure, Ciel." He stood and took your hand once again, guiding you towards where his butler took watching from afar.

"It's not very often I enjoy myself at a ball, I thank you for inviting me. Consider this a formal invitation to the Phantomhive Manor tomorrow to spend some leisure time together." He leaned closer and pressed a delicate kiss onto your cheek. Some heads turned towards you in surprise, taking in the rare scene before them. "I will gladly accept your invitation then," you responded with a giggle. He smiled and turned on his heel with his butler following behind, walking off towards the exit without another word. Maybe, you had found the fairytale you were subconsciously hoping for.

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Masterlist

[marlynnofmany]

How I Became the Token Human

The sign said “Earthling Wanted” in large print, and I, a perfectly eligible Earthling, said “Heck yeah.” Busy space station life bustled around me as I stepped close to read the details on the holoboard. Other ads were for the usual range of odd jobs and social events, but this one was specific.

And it couldn’t have been more perfect for me. A courier ship was contracted to deliver someone’s pet cat to them in deep space (I guessed that a breakup had happened while the owner was away, or their temporary job had turned into a permanent one) and while the couriers were perfectly capable of getting the cat there, this was several days of travel, and they hadn’t the first idea of how to care for an Earth animal.

Well, I thought with no small amount of smugness, They just got themselves an expert. I copied the holo ad onto my phone, then found a vaguely-private corner of a public seating area and activated the call. I stood up straight and professional, as if I was meeting a wealthy new client with an ailing Samoyed. Would they want a detailed resume? A rundown of the places I’d worked and trained, my range of expertise on animals big and small? Or perhaps a description of what I would do in various unexpected scenarios?

Nope. The octopuslike alien who popped into view — deep green, harried, and female unless I missed my guess — only had two questions for me.

“Great, you look like an Earthling,” she said. “How experienced are you in caring for cats?”

“Very,” I said, ready to add more.

“Good. Can you leave immediately?”

“Yes,” I decided, thinking quickly. “I just have to grab my things. Where’s your ship?”

“Meet us at the semiaquatic spaceport before the shadow covers it.” She glanced at something offscreen. “We leave before the solar sails have to fold. Be quick.” With that, the call ended.

I blinked once, then shoved the phone into my pocket and sprinted down the corridor. Passersby stepped aside and gave me disapproving looks, especially the group of red-pink bugfolk who chattered after me in their own language, but I dodged through the loose crowd without hitting anyone. Nearly tripped over a smaller-than-average Waterwill, which could have been disastrous given their “column of jello” consistency, but I hopped on by with a quick apology.

Are Waterwills really that fragile? I wondered as I ran. My biological studies had all been Earth-based. I knew the best way to hold a chameleon, pet a cat, and catch a chicken, but I hadn’t the foggiest idea how the friendly blobmonsters worked.

Well, maybe I’d find out.

I skidded into my small room and threw things into the suitcase. There wasn’t much to pack, since this was a temporary stop. Five minutes ago I’d been planning to trudge back to Earth and look for a new job. My old workplace was under new management and doing a reshuffling that made for a perfect time to take a quick lap around the galaxy, something I’d always wanted to do. It had been a great vacation. But there wasn’t much call for a veterinarian in space. Or so I’d thought.

One more jaunt, I told myself. It pays well enough to be worth it. And they clearly need my help. With a look about the room for anything I’d missed, I zipped the suitcase and shouldered my backpack, then cancelled the rest of my reservation at the control panel by the door.

A few more button presses, and the door wooshed open to let me dash off through the residential area, towing my suitcase on its repulsor plate behind me. That bag was much better than my old wheelie-case, which was always tipping over when I turned quickly. This one did have a tendency to slide around like a toddler on ice, but I was an old hand now at pulling the strap just right to keep it from taking anybody out at the knees. And honestly, I usually walked at a more reasonable pace than this. But time was short.

I glanced at a multiclock as I passed an elevator hub; sunset was coming for this side of the station. I wondered who had decided to make the station rotate in orbit instead of keeping one side facing the sun, but that was beyond my pay grade. Maybe it got too hot otherwise.

Long lines at the food court made me slow down, edging past a variety of body types before I reached a clear area and picked up speed again.

Success, I thought. Didn’t even bump into a scaly tail. This door? That door!

I found the dry-air-breather’s access port and hurried into the airlocks where steeply angled sunlight was streaming in. I only stopped once, to swipe my ID in exchange for a cheapo force-field exo suit. Just in case the separation of dry air, wet air, and water left anything to be desired. I’d made that mistake once. One experience of scrambling for the emergency cutoff switch in an airlock rapidly filling with water was enough.

Those octopeople breathe dry air, right? I fretted while I retrieved the exo disk. I think so. They just like more baths and moisturizers than I do. I’ll be fine on a ship made for them. Assuming the one I talked to doesn’t live in a scuba suit while onboard. But surely they would have said. Probably.

With my ID back in my pocket and the control disk stuck to my chest (using technology that was basically the inverse of my suitcase), I shoved out into the spaceport in a cloud of my own air. I was greeted by more air, rows of parked ships under a glittering force field between us and the stars, and an impatient-looking green tentacle alien waiting in view of the airlocks. She waved me toward her ship as soon as she saw me.

Strongarms, that’s what they’re called, I remembered. I guess I’ll get a name for this one once we’re on the way. With golden solar sails spread wide, the little round ship looked like a cartoon bat, or maybe a lemon that wanted to be a pirate ship when it grew up. The epitome of dignity either way. I made a note to say nothing about that either.

“Right this way; stand back while the door shuts; the animal is in the cargo bay with more food and junk than any sane creature could eat in the time we’ve got; I’ll introduce you after takeoff.” The green Strongarm didn’t give me a chance to do more than nod as she spoke. “For now, come grab a crash seat in the cabin. I’ll introduce you to the crew after takeoff too.” She sped down the narrow corridor with a quiet slapping of tentacles on the shiny blue floor.

I did my best to keep up, despite having to bend over as I walked. This ship was not designed for a tall species. At least the walls and ceiling were a clean white, not one of those squishy organic ships that made my skin crawl.

“Got the human,” she announced as the door to the cabin spiraled open. She waved several tentacles back at me, one pointing at a chair near the wall that had a fighting chance of fitting me. “Quick-quick.”

I ducked through the sphincter-door (also gross, but less so), waved at the dozen or so random aliens, then shoved my suitcase behind the chair and sat. The chair was cup-shaped and way too small, but at least the back was flexible. I could feel a localized gravity field in place of a seat belt.

These folks have a lot of faith in their ship’s power source, I thought as I lifted my backpack to where it would give me neck support. Here’s hoping we don’t crash. For lots of reasons.

The crew were mostly ignoring me, though in a polite way. Strongarms, Frillians, and a few Heatseekers. Octopeople, colorful fin-covered bipeds who looked like tropical fish that had learned to walk, and little lizardy folks. All air breathers, though two out of three had aquatic origins. As the engine hummed to life, I shut off my exo field.

Damp air caressed my face like someone breathing on me from uncomfortably close. Great. But it was breathable and wouldn’t damage my stuff, and we were already in space, judging by the viewscreen that had just registered some very quick movement. Only stars and a few distant ships were in front of us now.

“All right, introductions!” announced the green Strongarm. “You can call me Kamm. What’s your name, human?”

“Robin Bennett,” I said, sitting up straight. “Earth animal expert at your service.”

Kamm accepted that and rattled off the names of everyone else in the room, then gave a quick rundown of the journey we could expect. Three standard days, no wormholes planned, no asteroid showers or other hoo-ha expected.

And now that we were clear of the space station’s shipping lanes, we could make good time and move about the ship.

Kamm hopped out of her seat and hit the floor with a wet smack. “This way, animal expert. Let’s show you to your charge and your room.”

I grabbed my suitcase and followed, trying to be graceful while simultaneously ducking and high-stepping through the door. It was like walking around in a kids’ playhouse.

At least the cargo bay had a properly high ceiling. It also had many boxes of cargo, and one metal cage with a very distressed cat. The I-don’t-want-to-be-here yodel echoed off every wall.

“Well, there it is,” said Kamm with a wince. “It’s been this loud the whole time. I hope that’s not a cause for alarm?”

“Not the sound alone, no,” I said. “Let me take a quick look. Hey, kitty.” I approached with a gentle voice and quiet footsteps.

The tone of the cat’s yowling changed when it saw me, aiming for pity over volume. Poor little gray tabby sounded very lonely. A nameplate with paragraphs of contact information said “PICKLE” in all caps.

“Hello, Pickle. There there, kitty; it’s okay.” I greeted the cat with a soothing babble of syllables, letting it sniff my fingers through the bars, only noticing once it quieted that Kamm had stayed by the door.

“Oh good,” the alien said. “It likes you. Will you want the whole crate in your quarters, I hope? There’s enough room.”

“Yes, definitely,” I said, standing back up. The cat mewed in protest.

“Great. All the food and whatever should fit too. Grab a sled.”

At Kamm’s directions, I helped maneuver a hoversled under the cage, then down the hall. She led the way with a different sled full of airtight cases covered in labels. Her cart was the more rattletrap of the two, which I appreciated; the supplies wouldn’t be bothered by any jolts in height, but an anxious cat sure would.

Pickle yowled all the way to my quarters. Our quarters, rather. Kamm was eager to rush off once I said I had everything in hand, and I couldn’t blame her. But the noise stopped as soon as the door shut.

“Mew?”

“All right, kitty,” I said as I took off my backpack. “That door seems solid, so you probably won’t run off and get stuck under the brake pedal, or however they fly this ship. Do you want to come out?”

Pickle didn’t, when I opened the door, but I made myself comfortable on the floor by the cage and read through the info packet that had popped up on my phone. Pickle was a girl cat, five years old, spayed, fond of cheese and toys that crinkled.

Eventually she crept out to accept some gentle scritches and a warm lap. I was considering moving to the giant squishy cushion that passed for a bed when the door chimed.

“Ow!” Those claws were sharp when Pickle launched off me to hide in the carrier. I got to my feet painfully, shut the small door, then opened the big one. The ceiling was low in here too.

A maroon-and-teal Frillian stood there, just barely short enough to stand normally in the hallway. “Did you bring food, or would you like to join us for a meal?”

I looked back at the quiet cat. “I do have some ration bars, but I wouldn’t mind meeting everyone properly. Let me dig out some food for my charge here, then I’ll be there. Which way…?”

The Frillian gave me directions, then scooted off. I turned to the multiple boxes labeled “food,” and checked the info packet. Pickle had preferences.

But of course she was too scared to eat. I left the tray of high-quality wet food inside the cage alongside a dish of water and a well-chewed toy mouse that promised to have familiar smells. Then I gave her some quiet time.

And I got some fun time! The crew turned out to be outgoing and friendly, with many a joke ready about the types of food that my species was known to eat. They were mostly a carnivorous set, of one kind or another (fish, bugs, rodents; not a T-bone steak among the lot). They weren’t phased by any kind of plant food, but the existence of dairy products as a whole was soundly denounced as vile weirdness.

“Honestly, it makes sense,” I laughed. “Milk is the first food we eat when we’re born, then we found ways to make it into a bunch of other fancy things.”

“Yes, but why?” asked a bright red Heatseeker, his lizardy face intent. “Organic drippings sound like the absolute last choice of edible foods.”

“Spoken by someone who has never tasted ice cream,” I told him. “Or pizza! Those are some of the best foods out there.”

“I’ve heard humans mention pizza before,” said a large gray Strongarm. He gestured with something that looked like an uncut sushi roll. “What actually is it?”

I happily explained, then had to go on a tangent about bread, since that was apparently a weird human thing too.

“Really? None of you folks have food made of processed grains?” I asked, to a row of blank stares. “Guess not, but okay: it’s crushed grain and water with yeast — those are little microscopic creatures that help turn it into proper food — as I understand it, the air bubbles in the finished bread are their farts — I’m not doing a good job of selling this, am I? I swear it tastes good!”

The big Strongarm laughed loudest. “No, but keep going! You were going to circle back to ‘cheese’ and why it’s not rotten.”

I did my best, eventually giving up while insisting that they would probably like at least some of my species’ barbaric dishes if they ever got a chance to try them. It was a fun conversation. And the food was all right too. A bit fishy, but I’d had worse.

I was sad to see the meal end, with everyone scattering off to their various tasks, some of which might have been fun to help with: untangling cords or organizing cases or deciphering random space messages. But my duty was with the cat.

Pickle was caterwauling loud enough to be heard from the end of the hallway. I hurried in and comforted her again, opening the cage and settling in to rest on the cushion-bed with her snuggled next to me.

With nothing else to do, I drifted off into a nap that was more restful than expected, given the alien bed. I woke, braved the alien bathroom, then went back to sleep. Even after the vacation I’d been taking, it was a bizarre luxury to have no demands on my time. I didn’t even know what kind of day/night cycle this ship was on.

And it didn’t matter. I slept as much as I needed to, ate a couple ration bars, fed and played with Pickle, and I read a book I’d been meaning to get around to. It was nice.

Crew members showed up occasionally to invite me to meals, but otherwise I spent the whole trip in my quarters. And as much as I enjoyed the camaraderie of dinnertime, the guilt I felt every time I returned to piteous meows kept me from staying out longer.

I really would have liked to, though. They even had a music night with instruments I’d never heard of. There were spares that I was welcome to try.

But Pickle had been scratching at the cage the last time I returned, and if she tore a claw because I wanted to know what an alien trumpet sounded like, then I would have failed in my duty.

So I stayed with the cat who purred like an outboard motor, and I did some more reading. It was still nice. Peaceful. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to take a turn at the radio station, listening for gossip and distress calls and triple-encoded secret messages.

The end of the trip caught me off guard. Kamm showed up with a ten-minute warning before the time we needed to have the crate stowed in the cargo bay, and me seated in the cabin.

“Already?” I blurted. “Right, I’ll be packed up in a jiff. Got the sleds?”

In the rush of gathering things, ushering Pickle back into the carrier, and hurrying to the cargo bay, I didn’t really have time to Feel Things about the trip ending.

But I felt them anyway. I’d miss my little snuggle buddy. I hoped she had a good life ahead of her.

The man waiting at the spaceport a few minutes later, as close to the landing pad as he was allowed, was a grizzled old space marine type. Stereotypes said he would have been more at home with some vicious beast as a pet, but I’d seen enough mismatched owners in my time to just smile at how eagerly he waited. And the way his face lit up at the sight of his cat was heartwarming.

Pickle’s distressed meows turned to welcoming mews when her human scritched her through the bars. I didn’t have to remind him that he owed money before he could take her away; he was on top of that. Though I’m sure Kamm would have made sure if necessary. The two of them handled the transaction with speed. Then to my surprise, he opened the cage there on the landing pad.

Pickle clawed her way up his thick jacket to settle purring onto his shoulders, like this was where she was meant to be. Maybe it was.

“Thanks so much for bringing her to me,” the man said to Kamm, with a nod to me as well. “Gonna introduce her to the new family; now everyone I love is in one place.”

Kamm said a polite goodbye while I gave him a warm smile and wiggled my fingers at Pickle. The cat gave me a slow blink, purring hard and nuzzling his chin. Then the pair of them walked off to the rest of their lives.

“Come grab your stuff,” Kamm told me. “He left a big tip, which I’ll pass over to you. No way we could have done a thing to calm that creature ourselves.”

“Thank you,” I said. “It was my pleasure.” It really had been; going home seemed anticlimactic now. It was just a pity I hadn’t been able to socialize with the crew more. They were good people.

I followed Kamm back into the ship for the last time — or so I thought, until a pair of crew members called from the radio station about a message from their sister ship.

“They had a fuel leak, and only managed to coast into orbit of a moon four days out,” said the small Frillian. “They need fuel, repair supplies, and extra food for their cargo.” He looked from Kamm to me. “I don’t know what planet the cargo is from, but if you don’t have to be anywhere just yet…?”

I grinned. “I don’t, as a matter of fact. I’ll happily come along if you’ll have me.”

Kamm flipped a tentacle in what was probably a shrug. “Why not? It worked out well just now. And I want to see if you can play a flange horn.”

“Me too!” I said. “Let me just grab some provisions before we go. At least one of you folks has to try pizza.”

This was years ago now. I never did get a regular job back on Earth, and I don’t regret it one bit.

(A couple crewmates did regret the pizza, but at least it was funny.)

~~~

This is official backstory connecting these comics with this novel. Robin has had a lot of adventures, and is about to have more!

[fizzyxcustard]

True Courage.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual harassment, fluff, mutual pining

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Thorin takes a stand for you when a lecherous man won't take no for an answer and keeps bothering you."

This fic touches on a bit of a nerve, as something similar happened to me a few weeks ago when travelling home; so why not put my experience to a good use and make a fic out of it? However, I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Your stomach lurched and you recoiled as the man took your hand in his. "You are very beautiful," he grinned, staring at you.

It had started off with you being polite, listening to the man talk about his life, and eventually his wife. Then he started nudging closer, his body almost right upon you. You had looked around for any sign of someone who may help you escape. But all the residents of Lake-town were too busy in their own conversations or inebriated. The Company seemed to have disappeared and you could not see anyone you recognised in the sea of heads swarming around you in the Master's main hall.

The man kept trying to catch your gaze as you averted it elsewhere, completely sickened by him. His continued chattering away, but your mind was ablaze, contemplating an escape. The feeling of his hand on you made you feel dirty, defiled.

Across the room and Thorin had a clear view of you. A man who looked easily old enough to be your father was sat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. Thorin grit his teeth and moved through the crowd toward you, having to shove a few bodies away.

"How about a kiss?" the man asked you, his breath almost upon you.

You shoved his hand away and shifted further out of your seat.

"How dare you!" an angry voice came. "You will leave her, unless you wish to be spitting your teeth out upon the floor."

"Thorin?" you whispered, looking up. His face was livid and fierce. You had never seen Thorin so fired up; his eyes were dark and his teeth were bared.

In your embarrassment, you got up and dashed from the scene. Tears were welling in your eyes as you raced out into the cold air outside. Your whole body was shaking, and sobs suddenly overcame you, uncontrollable. It may have been almost winter with a flurry of snow on the air, but you still felt as though your whole body was on fire. Anxiety and adrenaline raged through your veins. The fight or flight response had been activated, only a little too late. It would have aided you better when you were sat with the hideous man.

"Are you alright?" a voice came from behind.

Jumping, you turned around to see Thorin behind you. Instantly you threw yourself at him, finally feeling safe. "I'm sorry," you sobbed on him.

"Shhh," he cooed into ear, brushing his fingers through your hair. "You are safe." Thorin's heart thundered in his chest, both at the feel of you in his arms, but also at the feeling of you shaking. His chest was full of both love and anger, intense and all consuming. How dare someone touch you against your will. How dare someone reduce you to a sobbing mess like this!

You looked up at Thorin, his arms still around you. You were safe here against him. Looking at his face, his expression soft but also full of concern, began to wash away the edge of your fear. It re-formed your crumbled composure, mending the pieces of a broken confidence.

Thorin cupped your cheek and his thumb dried the tears which were glistening on your reddened skin. "No one will harm you, I promise."

Ever since first meeting Thorin six months previously, at the beginning of the quest to re-take Erebor, and you trusted him. There was something in his eyes; a steadfast resolve and a deep-seated sense of honour.

Thorin couldn't take his eyes from your gaze. Having your skin against his made his breath hitch. You were beautiful, and since the moment he met you, he felt as if you were a special, one of a kind flower which he didn't dare touch. He hadn't dared touch out of a fear of offending you. But now that need to be in contact with you was too much. Cradling you had made his heart swell.

Feeling Thorin's touch was something you had imagined far too many times, and now that it was a reality, it was a softer touch than any fantasy had ever allowed you to experience. However, the more he gazed at you, shame entered your heart. "I'm sorry that I'm not brave like you."

"No..." Thorin began.

Your head turned to the side, twisting from his touch.

"No..." he whispered again, sadly. "Never say that."

Tears welled again. "I'm a coward. I froze. I'm ashamed."

"Never be ashamed," Thorin told you, his voice somehow deeper. "Do you understand me? You have nothing to be ashamed of. Absolutely nothing!" Anger dripped from his tone. "He violated your intimate space. No one has the right to do that. No one. And freezing is natural."

"I've never seen you freeze."

"Do not compare yourself to me. My reactions are learned, after years of experience."

If there was one thing that Thorin had always been drawn to, and it was your innocence. In your innocence of being polite and kind, you had entertained the lecherous man for a short while. Thorin, on the other hand, was hardened off to a polite and kind demeanour. You were open to people, welcoming. Thorin was shut off. Now, who was the brave one?

"Bravery isn't only found in battles," Thorin told you, stepping back from you. "It's seen in allowing yourself to be vulnerable and opening your heart to others. You have a courage that I could only dream to have, dear one. I walk into battle, ready to face the pain of a sword in my flesh. But you are ready to face the pain of a broken heart through being vulnerable in someone else's sight. That is true courage."

"That's not courage. That's just being too trusting and being ridiculous," you hissed.

Thorin smiled and then took your hand, kissing it. "You dare to trust. You have no idea how courageous that is. I wish I had a heart such as yours."

A wave of anticipation washed over you and you sighed. "In that case, this is me being brave. You do not need to wish for a heart such as mine, as you already have it. You've always had my heart, Thorin."

Thorin exhaled loudly, smiling, and cupped your cheek again. Then took your lips in a kiss, his beard tickling you. The heat rose and your kiss deepened.

As your kiss ended, Thorin pressed his forehead to yours. "My love," he whispered. "My brave love."

***

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[seungsuki]

surprise detective - boarding a train and solving a case with your professor? (f!reader)

warning: i mentioned it here!

note: part two is on the way!

the train wheels clatter rhythmically on the train track as [name] quietly sipped the brewed tea. the comforting surrounding sounds of chattering filled your ears as you gazed outside the window of your seat. the lush green isn’t something you can easily spot in the big city so it was refreshing to see the sights you missed in a long it 

“fancy meeting you here miss [name][lastname]”

looking up, a small smile accompanied by an alert look, you calmed down realising who it was. william james moriarty, your maths professor at durham university. along with him was a strikingly similar man except he had his hair done differently and seems to wear glasses.

“professor moriarty! i didn’t expect to see you here!”, [name] replied shuffling to the side for your professor to sit beside you 

“well i'm using my day off. what about you? you don’t seem like a countryside person”, william asked waving to the server 

“ah.. well a family friend is getting married today so i was invited to her big day”, you explained 

“do send my congratulations to her and i hope you finished this week's assignment since class resumes tomorrow”, william sighed knowing you didn’t even touch your work 

“o-oh yeah yeah! i finished it like wayyy before”, you nervously smiles praying the conversation changed 

your prayers were indeed answered. you heard some ruckus from the other table and before you could look over, a man came dashing to your table. he seated himself beside louis and faced william 

“yo professor”, he said startling you in the process 

“you’re that man with whom i sailed together on the noahtic”, william said recalling his memories

“i read about you in the newspaper. you solved the case of count drebber’s murder”, william added 

“you know him professor..?”, you whispered giving the blue haired man a questionable look 

“he’s a detective”, william introduced you to sherlock holmes 

“a detective? wow it must be fun running around and solving cases all day”, you sarcastically gasped as sherlock rolled his eyes 

“and who’s the lady here?”, sherlock questioned

“she’s my student”, william replied vaguely, a habit you noted a few times

“mr holmes, begging your pardon, but we were just finishing our meal”, louis intervened 

“the only one with the plate is the lady. plus, you haven’t even been served your dessert or digestif right?”, sherlock asked looking at you 

“you’re not wrong.. and it’s [name] not ‘lady’”, you corrected making quotation signs for lady 

“yeah yeah, just let me bend your ear for a bit prof!”, sherlock said turning to william 

“there goes my afternoon tea”, you sighed rolling your eyes

off sherlock went with his stories. louis looked over to you and gave you an apologetic look to which you simply nodded with yet another small smile. you were finally given a chance to talk to someone with such a brilliant mind yet the blue haired man ruined everything. he seemed to be recounting a case which picked the interest of your professor

“you were his benefactor, weren’t you… william james moriarty?”, sherlock asking making a finger gun towards the blonde man 

you were mindblowned at his boldness. he dares to accuse your professor of such hideous crimes? william was a kind soul who would even stay back to repeat his lecture in a simpler way for you to understand. he never shamed you for that and encouraged you to find your own ways to grasp knowledge. the fact that sherlock proposed such an idea made your blood boil.

it seems you weren’t the only one who looked pissed. you looked over to sherlock's right to see louis who looked rather anxious. you didn’t miss the way his grip on the silver lunch knife tightened after listening to the line. you looked to your left and saw how calm your professor looked- no he looked unfazed, almost like he knew what sherlock was going to say 

“indeed… that is the most amusing assertion. however, it is impossible to prove that i did not do something. also, it would be your job to prove that i did it, would it not?”, william spoke after the small silence  

“i’m kidding! i’m kidding! that would be a case of probatio diabolica, afterall!”, sherlock joked and laughed away the matter

“i was just thinking how great it would be if you were the sharp-witted mastermind”, sherlock continued and gave william a wink to which you tried not to puke 

“catch me if you can, mr holmes”

william said, resting his right arm on the seated sofa of the dining cabin. a smirk plastered on him and you swore you could see his scarlet eyes glowed under the sunlight shining through the window. since when did your professor look this good?

you mentally slapped yourself as a small blush dusted on your cheek, how could you even have such thoughts. he was your professor for crying out loud! this was all sherlock's fault. he shouldn’t have riled up your professor and you decided to let him know by sending him a small glare

“would it satisfy you to hear me say that, mr detective?”, william added, resting his head on his right hand 

“you really are the best! i see my that my joke was well received except to some”, sherlock laughed locking eyes with you 

“oh, you and i are seriously going to get along famously!”, sherlock said smiling 

“thanks for the dramatic tea. it was a good distraction”, you thanked lowering your cup down 

“i still didn’t forget your due assignment tomorrow. i expect you to be able to solve the questions presented tomorrow”, william smiled at you making you freeze 

“why are you so cruel, professor moriarty! maths isn’t my best and you know that”, you groaned knowing he wasn’t joking around 

“holmes”, someone called walking closer to your table 

“oh, here you are!”, sherlock looked over to his left to the man in a black suit and coat

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator