#Random AU drabble

[senjutsunade]

~Cries of Insanity~

✣Character Drabble✣

The vast spread of nothingness had been her only sight for months now. Humanity never realized it, but they were completely dependent on color. Without color, time meant nothing. There was no day or night, just the shift in the hues of the sky. Seasonal change—the beauty of spring, the brightness of summer, the budding passion of autumn with all the paradoxical decay that came with it—she had been through them all before her world had settled into a permanent winter.

The chill of it had settled into her very being, freezing the fire that had once scorched many. Ice had covered her heart, which she was sure could no longer beat despite years of medical training and logic defying such an idea. Her perception had frosted over. The falling snow of the everlasting winters of her inner world was all she could see, reflected in the physical world in the white walls that were her cage but also her only salvation. The sterile white walls, devoid of any warmth, pressed in on her, making her feel like a ghost haunting a forgotten dream.

She did not know who was protected by her being behind those locked doors; the world, or her? All she knew was she saw no need to question her presence there or the presence of the lock. The person who had been the very definition of free will since her birth had forsaken the idea, as she had forsaken herself. The bars of her prison were made of her own shattered dreams, the locks forged from her lost hope.

If she still had any regret, it was her continuing existence.

The once blonde hair (for even her hair appeared more washed out of color these days, starting to take up the shade of her surroundings) floated through this existence where color was her enemy. Once her vibrancy had made others succumb to lust, wanting a taste of that which was always out of their reach like some priceless art piece, and so they had to settle for cheap imitations, being able to catch a glimpse of the real thing only in talk and pictures. Now she was a picture that had been photoshopped, all the color removed and with that its essence, leaving behind only the dark lines with white to give it any meaning. And like that picture lacked any beauty, she now lacked life itself.

The medical field had gained a test subject in her, but what they had lost they probably would never be able to replace. As the youngest ever to become a surgeon, her skill had been as easily recognized as her name, which represented one of the most influential families of not just the country but the continent. But rather than taking up the political mantle her family was known for, Tsunade had strived to become the best doctor out there in the aftermath of losing her brother to poor medical care after a minor accident.

That had shaped her entire life, her focus on being the best in what she did; she had come to be known as the miracle worker. Never losing a patient until the day it had been her own fiancé on the operating table before her. That night she had realized that when it mattered, she was still not the famed surgeon, rather still the horror-stricken teenager, helpless and utterly dependent on prayers rather than her own skill. All those years of focus and nights spent pouring over endless medical books were of no worth to her when she so desperately needed it.

That night her world had become painted with red. Months of mourning later, a pair of nurses had found her in the operating room with a deceased patient of a case not her own, scalpel in hand as she mutilated the body, blood staining every inch of her front and face as she looked before her, gaze unfocused. When she had stopped focusing on taking vengeance of her loss from the dead and turned to the living, she did not know. Nor did she remember till the present day. By the time she had snapped out of that spell, her terrified screams had made every soul in the hospital aware of her breakdown.

And so now she existed in a world that would not bleed. Out of her special circumstances, the Asylum had a policy where the color red was strictly banned from the premises. After the incidents from her first few weeks there, they had no other option but to enforce said policy. They did not even know how to help her. They tried to treat her for hemophobia, but it was quite clear her stage was not only advanced but mutated, rendering it impossible for her to ever lead a normal life again.

Even right now as she stared at the food sitting before her, devoid of any color, her brain fought for focus, the drugs within her system making it difficult to understand why they kept her alive. It was cruelty really, forcing someone to live like this. The world killed countless each day who so desperately clung to life. And here she was so desperate to give hers up but no one would allow her the luxury.

So for all her muddled thoughts, one thing Senju Tsunade was sure of; the world was a messed-up place that no amount of therapy or drugs could cure. It was as insane outside these walls as it was within.

[csainzoperator]

ferrari drivers and their reaction to you kissing them in the middle of a conversation ☆

warnings: kissing (obviously), skinship, suggestive jokes, slight nsfw, mentions of sex, mentions of food.

word count: 485

charles leclerc

♡ would be yapping about his new ice cream brand, LEC. he would be talking about it so passionately and lovingly that you cannot contain the amount of joy listening to him talk brings you.

♡ he would look at you weird, tilting his slightly, his eyebrows raised in question when you don't react to his words anymore.

♡ you would lean in and give his lips a soft peck, making him giggle. "what was that for?" he would question, gazing at you momentarily, his dimples on display, a soft shade of crimson on his cheeks.

♡ you shrug, "just because." his smile brightens, making your chest tighten with warmth. the type of warmth you feel when the summer breeze brushes through your hair, when you dip your sandy toes into the cold sea water, when you have hot chocolate on christmas night. you admire his smile, unknown to the one on your own face.

♡ he would caress your cheek softly, pulling you closer to him. he always felt so ALIVE when he touched you. so real. so full of uncontrollable love. he would kiss your lips, gently, like he was touching a something so fragile, so precious, so important. because you were all that. "just because." he would mutter against your lips, a shy smile adorning his face.

carlos sainz

♡ it was a summer break, you and carlos were in your small beach house in the south of france. he was making you both breakfast. you did try to help him (tried cracking an egg and got an egg shell inside the bowl), but he refused. he wanted to give you "queen treatment" because princess was too basic.

♡ you sat on the counter as you watched him work around in the kitchen. something about this act was so homely, so domestic. how automated it was, how it all came together so perfectly. how you were so used to it, but would never get tired of it. he was whisking up his world famous (as he would like to call it) pancakes.

♡ you would lean towards him, and he would question your loving stare "no i am not letting you help, mi vida." he would wear his stern gaze, hoping it would shut you up. helping him was far from what you wanted to do. you grab his face and kiss his plumply lips, making a 'muah' sound.

♡ although surprised by the sudden affection, he wouldn't waste a second in kissing you back. his lips would make their way downwards, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck. you had to shove him away playfully to make him stop.

♡ he would have a slight pout on his face, picking up his whisk again to work on his masterpiece. "why would you kiss me!? it was distracting, baby. now i'm not even hungry." he would whine, feeding you before letting the neighbours know what his name was through your, let's say, high pitched vocals.

an: i made this while listening to bollywood romantic songs i lowk died ok. js a lil drabble for my adorable followers! hope u love it <3

[prettydaisygirl]

Hi HELLO LOVE UR WORKS SO MUCH

Anyways i have a req, can u do a james potter tiktok trend to "think fast i'm a random girl"

I was just scrolling on tiktok and i found this trend so funny😭 one dude started barking and the other became a full on ahjumma (a middle aged married korean woman)

Thank you so much for your service on tumblr i love all your james potter aus especially the streamer and dad one's

I hope u have a great rest of your day/night

Hi nonnie!! Thank you so much for your request, I love these little tiktok trend ones. Tbh I don't have tiktok but this gives me an excuse to scroll for a little bit and some of the boyfriends were so funny lmao. The number of them that burped or farted to scare off girl??? I'm deceased. Anyway, thank you so much and I love that you love streamer James <3 Have a wonderful day too, lovely!

boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader 'think fast, I'm a random girl' tiktok trend ✿ 407 words

cw: fem reader, James loves his girlfriend a lot, tiktok prank

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

James gives you a weary side-eyed glance as you prop up your phone with the camera pulled up, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. You smile brightly, moving to stand next to him.. He spits out his toothpaste.

“Uh oh,” His voice is suspicious and you laugh sweetly. 

You reach forward to press record, and James sets his toothbrush down, clearly weary of whatever might be coming.

You stand next to him, silent for a moment. James, his hair still messy and his face still swollen with sleep, is nervous. He shuffles awkwardly, his face a mix of suspicion and determination, sure that he’s ready for whatever prank you must have for him this time.

This one is technically not a prank, though. This one is more like a test.

“Think fast,” You say, and James’ whole body tenses like a spring, ready for action, “I’m a random girl.”

And you pounce, hands grabbing at his face. James processes your words just before your lips are able to press to his and he ducks out of the way with a yelp. He spins, moving away from you and raising his hands like he’s going to have to defend himself. You purse your lips, trying not to laugh. 

“Hey! I have a girlfriend, who I love very much!” His hands are fists now, in front of his face like a boxer, his tone and expression completely serious. 

“James-” You step closer toward him with a giggle and he holds out a hand, stopping you, his finger pointed in your face.

“No!” He yells again, “I have a girlfriend and you need to back off!”

You finally burst into laughter, doubling over as James finally lowers his hands. You straighten, reaching to kiss him this time and he lets you, but hesitantly.

“That was perfect, baby.” You say, and move to stop the recording. James steps behind you, hands on your hips as he pulls you close.

“I don’t want any other girl near me, love. I just want you. I don’t want them to be confused.” James presses a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, your jaw, then your shoulder. You add your tags and caption to your video to post it.

“Well, I don’t think they’ll be confused.” You say, bursting into a fit of giggles again as you watch the comments roll in praising your boyfriend. “I think you made it very clear, Jamie.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[quitesins]

Edit: Heyyy wrote a little drabble from this idea yay!!! | And more!! | And even more!!

Non Mc!Reader who finds out she isn’t human, but a dragon, as her beastly features start to come in. She’s confused and scared by the sudden burn in her skull, the foreign skin growing on top of her own. And Sylus who finds her first, either through rumours or chance, looking at the pitiful thing and deciding to take her in, despite all his conflicting feelings.

Naturally, he is curious. He is meant to be the last of his kind. Beyond himself, he has never seen a dragon before. You confuse him a little.

Another part is protective, how quickly would you become a subject, threatening his existence just by being studied for yours.

And a soft part of him becomes a child again. Seeing himself alone to the changes of his body, alone to becoming a monster, alone to live out the rest of his days…

He can’t just leave you here. It wouldn’t be fair.

[spineapplestudios]

Daydreams CW: a lil suggestive

In my head, I can hold you as tight as I dream to.

I drag my claws up your spine and count the rivets in your skin. The folds in your clothes that separate me from you. I dont mind, i always imagine the fabric being so, so soft against me, while i lay my head on your shoulder. Grazing my teeth against your neck, licking the blood from the scratches.

“Im so sorry” Im just so hungry. Starving on my knees, I could look up at you, and feel so lucky for any crumbs you throw to me. You look so hurt with that practised smile that never reaches your eyes and invisible lines that sink into the depths of your casing. I dream about what your real smile looks like, and how i could coax it out of you.

I want to kiss you, taste you. But I can't stand the thought of you tasting me, the rot and bitterness that dances on my tongue. Copper and tin and dust and grit.

I want to feel you, watch the fabric slip over your shape while you constantly demand my patience with that stern expression that I can't get enough of. Your skin so soft. While mine remains rough and coarse.

I wasnt designed with a loving touch in mind. To treat another with gentle delicacy, to press my mouth against a supple surface and not bare my fangs. Ready  to tear

I would rip my claws and pry out my teeth to make you feel safer in the dark with me. Alone, bodies sharing the same warmth. Pressed against my sheets, drinking you in until I drown.

… Tell me to stop.

[vacantfields]

A tear, a torn piece of fabric, a cry for help, yet all is silenced. It has to be. That's how it has to be.

Such is Sun's way of viewing things, which is probably not healthy, he figures, but he's a machine, so maybe it's healthy to be finicky about how you feel- "stop. Stop putting these thoughts in my head." A raspy voice said to him. Raspy...

Sun looked up and was met with red eyes and long black hair. Moon was frowning, his clawed hands on his hips. "What's the matter, Moonie?" Moon rolled his eyes at the simple question Sun asked, always so silly that Moonie.

Moon looked at Sun for a long moment before finally uttering something. "You're distant again. You're supposed to talk with me." He said with a vague gesture of his hand. Sun frowned at that. How could Moon say that to him?

Sun was about to tell Moon just how he felt about that. After all, Moon left their shared body when they got these new android bodies. But he did not get to say anything as Eclipse stood in the corner of the room where they were all standing.

Sun and Moon's eyes were locked to Eclipse's. The tall android smiled unsettlingly, as he always did, and then spoke.

"I have eaten three rats today."

[tortureddelilah]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ picturing no crash au mistynat babysitting callie ( jackieshauna canon & callie most likely adopted, girls in their 20’s at this point ) thinking it would be easy but really have no idea of the nightmare that toddlers are. ( callie’s at least 2 by now )

•having a screaming toddler running around the house with bo control had natalie irritated to the point of angry tears probably

•misty’s just trying to get her calmed down, playing with her, making her snacks— but let’s face it, they don’t have that kind of energy to keep up with the little girl

•nat giving cal nighttime cough medicine or something in her food to get her tired enough to finally lay down for a nap when misty wasn’t looking… ( not her proudest moment )

•nat and misty completely worn out by now, holding each other on the couch comforting each other and eventually falling into a nap of their own ( it’s barely 1p.m. )

[athenasparrow]

SLAM - Read on AO3

@wearingaberetinparis it's keeping me up at night. Please hurry 😂

***

“Where have you been?” James thunders.

“Getting ingredients,” Lily responds as casually as her breathless lungs allowed. She heaves a gulp of air as she sets the herbs on the old wooden benchtop of the abandoned cottage, her eyes sliding to the bandage adorning Sirius’ shoulder.

James’ hazel eyes blaze so furiously that Lily wonders if his magic might pour out of him until her hard-won herbs are no more than smoking ash. “Where did you get these?” The knot in his jaw works overtime, his body strung so tight he’s almost unrecognizable from the lanky teenager who sauntered the Halls of Hogwarts a decade earlier.

Lily busies herself, aimlessly opening the dusty timber drawers in the guise of looking for a knife she she knows damn well is tucked away at the end of the counter.

“Tell me you didn’t.” His voice is barely the hiss of a killing curse, but its potency is equally deadly. “Not alone.”

Lily bends her knees to open a lower cupboard so her eye roll is hidden from James’ fury. “Of course not!” Lily says brightly — unable to stop her tongue from provoking his outrage further — “Hermes came with me.” Her owl is (wisely) nowhere in sight.

Lily rises in time to catch Remus’ furrowed brow as he winces into his hand before her attention is pulled to the apoplectic hazel-eyed wizard across from her. His hands press so firmly into the counter, it is a wonder it doesn’t crumble under the frenzy of his ferocity. The veins of his forearms bulge as his magic escapes his pores to cling to his body in a pulsing rage. The thump thump of his carotid beats wildly at his neck.

“Why didn’t you take one of us with you?” Sirius asks with far less bite than his brother.

“You were busy,” Lily nods at his shoulder, “and he would have…” Lily trails off as she imagines the lengths James may have gone to if he’d known she was sneaking in to the Death Eater encampment they’d been tailing. Would he have dulled her? Stunned her? Physically pinned her to the ground? Her eyes finish their trail up his tense arms to the solidness of his chest and her body flushes burning hot as images of him pressed over her infiltrates her mind. “...he would’ve said no,” she offers half-heartedly, distracted as she is by the thought of him.

“Damn right I would have said no!” The wood of the counter stands no chance against the might of James’ magic as it surges with his anger: large caverns run in a spiderweb from his clenched fist.

Lily inhales sharply, stumbling back in surprise; James never loses control of his magic. He’s been upset plenty of times; she’s been on the end of his sharp tongue and overprotective passion more than once. But this? His eyes hold no sparkle; the desolate torment of them strikes her still as stone. When he clocks her stumble, he crumbles in agony, twitching in a full-body flinch as the fight abruptly leaves him.

“I’m sorry.” It was whispers, shoulders slumped and head low. Before Lily has a chance to open her mouth, he’s out the door, the cool breeze from his exit does nothing to awaken her from where she frozen.

“I’ll go,” Sirius murmurs after a moment of silence.

“No. Me.” Blood rushes back into her limbs as they move under her. “Dice these, will you Remus?” She’s gone before either can protest, her eyes finding him hunched under the large tree they’d strung their wards from. With each step, the rough pain of his ragged breathing pierces deeper in her chest until Lily can sink onto her knees in front of him.

“You didn’t frighten me, I was just surprised,” Lily gently pulls his hands from his face, wiping the wetness on his cheeks.

“I promise,” she reiterates when his look remains painfully dubious. “We’ve been through ten years of fighting James Potter and if there’s one thing I would stake my life on, it’s that you’d never hurt me.” The loosening of his shoulders tells her that he believes her, but his gaze remained on the ground.

Lily reaches for his hand, running her fingertips over the callouses born from combat. She squeezes once and waits.

“I can’t lose you, I —” his voice breaks.

“You would have done it,” Lily reminds him gently. “Your life isn’t less important than mine.” The thought of losing him is unbearable.

James shakes head in what Lily knows to be vehement disagreement, but his indignance overcomes his pain and his eyes shoot to hers. They both freeze. Moments of the last decade bleed together in a fragile could he? As the emotion flowed from his eyes to hers, his magic runs wild – less violent than minutes earlier, but no less passionate — dancing over her skin until her own escapes to meet him. His fingers tighten on her while his magic leaves her breathless as it transforms from pain to hope as he stares back at what she thinks might be a mirror of his emotions. No mask. No pretend. It’s all there now.

“Lily?” he whispers. Suddenly, she just knows.

She moves first, letting her lips melt into the warmth of his. There’s a moment of stillness before a mad laugh escapes James’ lips, his breath dancing on her skin before firm hands hook behind her knees, yanking her to press fully against him. As far as first kisses go, she’s never had one that feels so much like home. The taste of him is relief; his body her solace; and Lily sinks willingly into both.

[spontaneousful]

"Is this really the world we fought so hard for?"

It was a question that always seemed to be on Blondie's mind lately. It was the only thing she could think to say as she stood in Ashlynn Ella's castle, watching the snow fall atop her fresh grave.

Apple, her friend her once-upon-a-time lover her, Apple White, ruler of Ever After, glanced over at her. "Whatever after do you mean?"

Blondie stared out the window and tried to bite her tongue. This conversation was pointless, nothing she could say would change what was. But that budding investigative journalist inside her, the one who wanted to change the world, the one she thought was stamped out long ago, couldn't leave it alone.

"Did we really fight for a future where our friends drop like flies? And condemn those who didn't agree to death along with them?"

She laughed. "Don't be silly. I haven't sentenced anyone to death."

Blondie turned around to face her. "What about Raven?"

"What about her?" Apple's gaze was piercing.

Blondie stared her down, but Apple didn't falter. Instead, she returned the stare with intensity. Blondie sighed and looked away. She couldn't stand up to Apple, she never had been able to. But the flame of anger in her still burned, and instead, she shifted the conversation.

"How many of our friends have to die for you to admit you were wrong? How many have there already been? Briar, Ashlynn, Ginger, Humphrey, Duchess, Meeshell, we're in our thirties, Apple. And yet, I'm attending a funeral every other week."

For a moment, there was no response. Then, she heard the clacking of Apple walking away. "The Ella estate is sorted out. I believe we're done here."

Blondie wanted to stop her. She wanted to scream at her. To curse the unfairness of it all. How hypocritical of her, when she had played no small part in the war of destiny versus choice.

Why? Why had she ever agreed with the side of destiny? Why had she thought this was better? Why had her own happy ever after been worth setting up her friends for slaughter? Why? Why? Why?

[heradion]

I'm scared to say I miss you,

Last time I had you I should have kissed you (Sterek off screen ficlet)

As Stiles slowly roused from sleep, he felt a warmth beside him, and upon opening his eyes, he saw Derek resting his head by his side, holding onto his hand. The sight was both surprising and oddly comforting, as if Derek's presence had chased away the remnants of his nightmare.

Stiles groaned, his voice thick with sleep as he sat up, the mattress shifting under him.

Derek stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he noticed Stiles waking. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Stiles apologized.

"It's okay," Derek replied, releasing Stiles's hand and stretching his limbs as he stood up from the chair beside the bed.

Curiosity tugged at Stiles as he watched Derek, wondering why he had chosen to sleep there. "Why'd you sleep here?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Derek paused, his expression thoughtful. "You seemed to have had a nightmare just as you fell asleep," he explained, his voice gentle. "Your heart was beating fast, and you grabbed my arm. You calmed down after that, so I decided to stay."

Stiles felt a pang of warmth in his chest at Derek's concern, mixed with a tinge of guilt for unknowingly disturbing him. "Oh," he murmured, feeling a surge of gratitude towards Derek.

"Why didn't you just sleep on the other side? It's a queen bed," Stiles suggested, his concern evident in his voice.

Derek shook his head. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he replied simply, his gaze meeting Stiles's.

Stiles felt a swell of appreciation for Derek's consideration but a sense of unease at the thought of him sacrificing his comfort for Stiles's sake. "You could've just woken me up and asked me," Stiles pointed out, feeling a twinge of guilt.

Derek shrugged,"I didn't want to disturb you," he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at Stiles.

Stiles sighed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him at Derek's selflessness. "Well, your neck is probably killing you now," he remarked, noticing Derek's discomfort.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck. "It's alright. I'll survive," he assured, though the tension in his muscles betrayed his words as he headed to freshen up a bit.

As Derek stepped out of the bathroom still holding onto his neck, Stiles felt a surge of determination as he watched Derek, knowing he had to do something to help alleviate his discomfort.

"Just sit down," he urged, motioning towards the bed. "I'll massage it a bit."

Derek hesitated, but at Stiles's insistence, he complied, sitting down on the bed as Stiles moved behind him. "Are you sure?" Derek asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Stiles nodded,"I've helped my dad a couple of times, Don't worry" He said trying to hide his nerves.

Derek sat down on the bed while Stiles sat behind him as Derek took off his shirt and Stiles noticed Derek's tattoo, he had nearly forgotten that it was there.

His fingers ached to trace over it resisting the urge, he sighed before saying.

" I'm gonna massage you only near your shoulders and neck okay?" Stiles said as he tentatively placed his hands on Derek's shoulders as Derek nodded.

Feeling the warmth of Derek's skin beneath his fingertips sent a shiver down Stiles's spine as he recalled the dream he had the previous night, but he pushed past his nerves, focusing on helping Derek.

As Stiles's worked out the tension in Derek's muscles, Derek couldn't help but let out a low sigh of relief.

The stress and discomfort seemed to reduce under Stiles's touch, replaced by a warmth that spread through Derek's body.

Stiles pursed his lips nervously, a subtle tension lingered between them, unspoken words hovering in the air like a silent question.

Derek could sense Stiles's nervousness, his movements hesitant yet determined as he continued to massage Derek's neck and shoulders.

Stiles shifted and moved to stand in front of Derek as Derek made some space for him before Stiles's hand moved over to Derek's shoulder avoiding Derek's eyes.

Feeling the weight of Derek's gaze on him, Stiles shifted slightly, meeting Derek's eyes making his heart pace a little faster which Derek undoubtedly could hear.

"You're really good at this" Derek stated, his gaze unwavering.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper before shifting his focus to Derek's shoulder.

As the silence stretched between them, Derek felt a surge of courage wash over him.

"Stiles?" Derek called out as Stiles replied with a "Hmm?"

"Stiles look at me" Derek said as Stiles felt his heart skip a beat when Derek's fingers gently turned his chin, guiding his gaze to meet Derek's intense stare.

His stomach churned with a mix of nerves and anticipation as he searched Derek's eyes for answers.

"Why does your heart always beat fast when I look at you?" Derek's question hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken emotions.

Stiles hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He felt a surge of panic rise within him as he turned to leave.

Before he could , Derek grabbed his wrist, pulling him back with a firmness that caught Stiles off guard. Stiles stumbled, nearly losing his balance, but Derek's steady presence anchored him, his hand finding purchase on Derek's shoulders for support.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was gentle yet firm as he moved his hand to hold onto the back of Stiles's knees.

Derek was still seated on the bed his legs parted as Stiles stood between them looking down at Derek.

Stiles sighed "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to know the truth" Derek asked looking down at his lips "Are you scared of me? Or is it something else?"

Stiles pursed his lips, his heart pounding in his chest as he summoned the courage to speak. With a deep breath, he finally managed to say, "I'm not… scared of you. It's… It's something else."

Derek's gaze bore into him, the tension between them thickening with each passing moment. "What is it then?" Derek's voice was steady, but Stiles could sense the undercurrent of emotion beneath the surface.

"Derek," Stiles sighed, feeling the weight of his own words pressing down on him.

"Stiles," Derek's voice softened, his eyes pleading and curious. "You can be honest with me."

Stiles met Derek's gaze, his stomach twisting with nerves as he continued. "It's… it's because…" He faltered, the words catching in his throat.

As he looked into Derek's eyes, filled with warmth and understanding, Stiles found the courage to speak .

"It's because I…" He swallowed hard, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's because I care about you, Derek. More than I've ever cared about anyone."

As Stiles bared his heart, his breath caught in his throat, waiting for Derek's response. The air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the anticipation of what was to come.

Derek's eyes softened as he took in what Stiles had just told him. His hands moved to Stiles's hips pulling him closer before saying " I feel the same way about you Stiles. The time I spent away from you made me realise how strong my feelings for you were and...I guess a part of always knew but I pushed it down because...because I didn't want to be like Kate..I didn't want to take advantage of you."

"Derek, You're not her" Stiles said his hands moving to cup Derek's face " You could never be her. I've always felt like we understood each other.. better than most people and I guess I never expected you to feel the same way."

"Of course I do, You're the most caring person I've ever met Stiles." Derek stated one hand moving to caress his cheek.

Stiles leaned into Derek's touch and smiled at him gazing fondly at the man in front of him.

Without hesitation, Derek's hands found their way to Stiles's hips, pulling him closer until their bodies were mere inches apart. And then, with a tender intensity that took Stiles's breath away, Derek leaned in, his lips meeting Stiles's in a sweet, heartfelt kiss.

As they melted into each other's embrace, Derek pulled Stiles into his lap earning a surprised noise from Stiles before he pulled away for a moment.

"I guess you're coming to Beacon Hills with me then?" Stiles asked smiling

"I guess I am" Derek said before leaning in to kiss him again, knowing he now had the chance to create new memories in a place that had previously been overshadowed by loss and grief.

(Part.1) / (Part.2) / (Part.3) /(Part.4) /(Part.5)

[boggledmind]

Ok so I’ve been in the STH fandom for a bit now and have been aware of the chaotix but never really looked into their dynamic. But can I just say I have now and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT.

Idk how to even describe it but they are all just so chill compared to the other characters in the Sonic franchise. I mean their main objective in Heros isn’t to save the world or get revenge or anything- it’s literally just to pay rent. Like that’s just so cool and funny to me.

I think Espio is my favorite of the bunch, (mainly because he’s purple and I am heavily biased) but Vector and Charmy are the personalities that really put this trio together for me. I mean Vector literally uses bubblegum to fly! Like what?!?!

Tbh I’ve never played the games so I get most of their dynamic from watching gameplay clips and reading fanfic interpretations of the crew so maybe my opinion is a little skewed but either way it’s still fun!

[aquaquadrant]

I’m having thoughts again (the horror). You may have answered this before and I just can’t remember or find it buuuuuut

Is/was there ever a dragon in Hels? If there was could they spawn it in again or is she just dead?

“a dragon?” the player huffs a laugh, giving you an odd look. “you know dragons aren’t real, right? it’s just fantasy shit, like the sun and moon.” they shrug. “anyway, uh, if- if you’re not gonna buy somethin’ then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out.”

~*~

“ah, i see you’re a fellow intellectual.” the player nods sagely. “data analysis has found plenty of evidence supporting the existence of an ‘end dragon’, through communicator codes such as ID tags for items called ‘dragon’s breath,’ ‘dragon head’, and ‘dragon egg’, not to mention the achievement ‘free the end’, which is supposedly earned after slaying this dragon. so while we can only extrapolate so much from nonfunctional comm commands, i’d say the idea of a dragon existing in other worlds is quite substantiated.”

they pause.

“did hels ever have one? well, that’s the question, isn’t it. while the existence of glitched end chunks throughout hels has been proven on multiple occasions, no one’s ever found an end island with the obsidian pillars required to spawn and sustain a dragon. of course, it’s possible someone found it long ago and destroyed it, or perhaps no one’s found it yet, or perhaps it exists in a different form entirely. if you look at how biomes spawn in hels…”

~*~

“what, hels ain’t bad enough for you as it is?” the player wheezes, shaking their head. “kid, if there’s a dragon in hels, you’re better off if you never meet it. we got enough problems without throwin’ a damned dragon into the mix, ya hear?”

~*~

“never heard of such a thing. seems like nonsense.” the player hefts their axe onto their shoulder. “now, move along before i kill you.”

~*~

“there was a dragon in hels, yeah,” the player says nonchalantly. “this old player took me in when i was a kid, used to tell me stories. i mean, he never saw it. it was more of a ‘i know this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who heard that someone saw it’ kinda deal… well? do you wanna hear it or not?”

they smirk.

“… that’s what i thought. so yeah, it was this massive red dragon- or uh, maybe it was like orange with red flames on its scales, fucking sick, right- with huge teeth and insane fire breath and… actually, it might’ve been acid? or poison? fuck, whatever, the point is that the thing was nasty, alright, it used to swoop down on the early settlements and mow those motherfuckers down, eating players- or, wait, i think maybe it would just throw them? uh, i dunno how but- wait, where you goin’? hey, this is valuable information, you know! … fine, whatever, asshole.”

~*~

“how the hel should i know?” the player demands, folding their arms. “this world’s infinite and old as balls, and we don’t exactly have a consistent method of widespread information distribution. someone could’ve killed it yesterday and i’d have no fucking clue.”

~*~

“yeah, there was.” the player nods. “it was before my time, but i heard our admin killed it. whoever the fuck they were… makes no difference to me, but it’s a cool thought, right?”

~*~

“hm. been a long time since someone asked me that.” the player leans forward, eyes flickering in the firelight. their gaze is haunted. “are you sure you wanna know?”

they pause.

“… alright, then.”

“now, this was back in the early days of hels, long enough ago that some of the oldest players still remembered havin’ an admin. we didn’t even know ‘bout the end chunks. then one day, there was this sound. every player in the world heard it, no matter where they were. it was louder than any thunderstorm, louder than any explosion- the kinda sound that goes clean through you, splits your ears and rattles your bones.”

“it was a scream, only not like any i’d ever heard before. there was a raw, guttural quality to it- like a wounded animal- yet the power was undeniable. but there was some distortion to it as well; an underpinning of static like the whole thing was bein’ broadcast through a beat-up jukebox. just thinkin’ of it sends chills down my spine.”

“then a peculiar thing popped up in chat. someone had made an achievement, only we couldn’t tell who or what. all the text was scrambled, like those funny words you see on an enchantment table. never met anyone who could read it. but needless to say, this sparked an entire movement bent on discoverin’ what the hell had happened.”

“some of the more adventurous players went explorin’ and found the end chunks. players who knew a thing or two about data analysis started huntin’ through their comms, usin’ the data of an endstone block someone brought back. didn’t take long after that to figure it out.”

“they found there was a dragon that belonged to a separate realm from overworld and nether. the end, they surmised. y’know, where endermen came from. the dragon lived there, sustained by end crystals that were said to float atop obsidian pillars on the end island it called home- its nest, as it were. so, unsurprisingly, it was called the ender dragon.”

“and if you killed it, you opened a portal. where it’d lead was anyone’s guess, but it was a way out of hels.”

“i was young, then. young and hungry. i banded up with some other players and we consulted an expert- the founder of data analysis, actually- to extrapolate the coordinates for the main end island. only he didn’t find just one; he found ten sets of coords, spread out over hundreds of thousands of blocks, nearly a million blocks. he predicted that each obsidian pillar had spawned on a separate end chunk, and that each one would have to be tracked down to kill the dragon. we had to destroy the crystals first, you see. he thought it was a waste of time, a fool’s errand, but we didn’t listen. so we split up, takin’ one set of coords each, and set off.”

“they were all ‘bout the same distance from each other, so no one had an easier go of it. i took one northeast of spawn, seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand blocks out. the journey took years. not sure exactly how many, i stopped keepin’ count sometime after the fifth. the other players on the mission gradually stopped replyin’ to my whispers- i think some of ‘em gave up and turned back. wasn’t sure if i was the only one still goin’, ‘til i eventually saw their death messages in chat, one by one. mobs, lava, fall damage, the usual. some might’ve died on the way; traversin’ hels alone on foot is no cake walk, even without the concern of PVP. never heard from any of ‘em again.”

“but i’d gone so far that givin’ up wasn’t an option. even if no one else had made it to their pillar and destroyed the crystal, even if killin’ the dragon would be impossible, i had to see it through. so i kept goin’. it was a lonesome existence, bein’ that far from spawn; i went months without sayin’ a single word, at times, damn near lost my mind. but it weren’t all bad. i reached the unloaded chunks, saw naturally-spawned passive mobs for the first time in my life. i saw rare biomes i’d never heard of, even came across one of those glitched end ships with an elytra. journey went quicker, after that, but it was still several years before i finally reached the coords.”

“the pillar was exactly what you’d expect. a tall, round obelisk made of solid obsidian, rooted on a floatin’ chunk of an endstone island. there were some endermen millin’ about the place, far more than in any other biome i’d seen- ‘cept maybe the warped jungles- but no sign of the dragon. the crystal was at the very top of the pillar in an iron cage, so i flew on up there, thinking at least i’d do what i came to do.”

“soon as i set foot on the top of the pillar, i heard a strange sound. it was that little zippin’ sound you hear when an enderman teleports- only it was a louder, deeper, slower sound that seemed to shake the world. like i could actually hear the distortion of space and time itself. the air suddenly filled with a haze of purple particles, so thick i could hardly see, move, or breathe.”

“and then she appeared.”

“the dragon was all black, black as the void ‘neath bedrock, with spines down her back and huge, bat-like wings, deadly sharp teeth and claws. she was big enough to swallow me whole and we both knew it. but what really put me off was that she was glitched.”

“it’s the best way i can describe it. her body was flickerin’ around all crazy-like as if i’d gone cross-eyed, so she appeared in multiples at times, countless wings unfurlin’ from the distorted mass. anywhere i looked directly at her would suddenly seem… pixelated, almost, like her form was fracturin’ into pieces, like i couldn’t fully ‘preciate the whole. but i remember her eyes. they were pure white, so bright it hurt to look at ‘em, and as she moved they seemed to blink in and out of existence around her, like they couldn’t quite settle in her skull. like twinklin’ stars against the night sky, beyond the bedrock ceiling.”

“she was beautiful.”

“the dragon perched against the tower, claws grippin’ the obsidian on either side of me, curled her slender neck down ‘til we were face-to-face, and roared. it had that same quality as that sound i’d heard all those years ago, and i knew at once it’d been her death rattle. in my daze, i remember wonderin’ who could’ve possibly managed to kill such a creature? what kinda player would even want to?”

“i’d been well-prepared for the fight. full enchanted gear, potions, gapples. but starin’ up at her, i couldn’t bring myself to use any of it. i just stared at her, caught in a moment that felt like an eternity as she stared back, before i realized her breath was poison.”

“i ended up back at the world spawn. didn’t matter i’d set a respawn anchor nearby the end island- this seemed to overwrite it. lost everythin’, of course, but i didn’t care. my death message in the chat was glitched, too, in that same strange language. now, i didn’t share my experience with the rest of the world; only to those who asked, and only in the hopes of dissuadin’ them from makin’ an attempt of their own.”

“which brings us to the end.” the player finally sits back, studying you with a shrewd gaze. “now, you listen to me. that dragon ain’t somethin’ to be killed, understand?”

you nod.

“good.” the player’s expression changes. “so, i’m afraid you’re not gonna like the next part of the story. but nothin’s free in this world, least of all knowledge.”

the player moves, there’s a flash of metal, and suddenly there’s a sword in your gut. engrossed in the story, you hadn’t even noticed them equip it.

“sorry,” the player tells you with a grin, “but that dragon ain’t the only monster here. send my regards to spawn.”

as darkness consumes you, your last thought is that the white spots dancing across your vision suddenly look like dragon eyes, blinking from the void.

~*~

[xxlady-lunaxx]

it's the quiet days sanemi enjoys the most. quite on contrary to his normal behavior, he finds that the moments spent in silence are the ones he finds the most solace in. yes, he would never pass off for days full of chaos and nights lost in the roads, but if he had to choose, his favorites were the ones where he lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. sometimes it was purely to find time to relax, and to let everything that had happened that day process. sometimes it was to let his mind draw blank—allow every thought to seep out of him and into the air. most of the time, he ends up drifting into semi-consciousness, partially aware that he's on the verge of sleep but letting that knowledge balance him on the edge. on the few times he remains wide awake, his thoughts racing, he turns and focuses on the window, or something in the room. watching the lights from outside flicker, and wondering where they're coming from on times he can't tell in his position. he pretends he's a pencil on his desk, or a pillow against the sheets. lives his life doodling on notebooks or providing comfort at night. often, he comes to the conclusion that it would be so much easier to live without living. to simply exist, without a conscience. without consequence. thoughts as such seem to lull him to sleep, eventually, and he dreams of being a stop sign in the sidewalk, or a car along the streets. there's never sound in dreams like these. they're always quiet, nestled into his mind and allowing him to rest, away from the noise of existence. his dreams like the quiet days, too.

[person-of-varying-obsessions]

Radioapple AU - "Hey There Delilah"

Kind of a rough idea, but I wanted to get it down

Modern AU

Alastor is in his mid 20s; Lucifer is in his mid-later 30s

Lucifer is divorced from Lilith (amicably) and shared custody of Charlie with her before she grew up and moved out

Lucifer is an up-and-coming musician with his own band

Alastor is a college student trying to get his bachelor's degree

They're in a long distance relationship, with Lucifer texting Alastor all the time and calling nightly to ask about his day and anything else happening in his life

Lucifer wants to write a song for Alastor, but Alastor doesn't want to be named, so Lucifer refers to him as "Delilah" partly to piss him off and partly because it worked with the song he'd already started working on

Before it's released, Lucifer sends Alastor a physical copy of a personalized copy of the song, writing that it has a special message - just for him

Alastor never admits it, but he listens to that song nigh-religiously, even humming it to himself at times, and always listens to the message at the end before letting it loop

[starry-sophrosyne]

... @toadettely @sopping-wet-cat-wizard y'know, april fools is over, BUT...

"No, what am I saying- That's too mean, I can't do that-" "Fufufu~ But I can~"  (｀▽ ´) // "YOU-" (/｀ᗣ ´ )/

(also for reference bc GUESS WHO CAN PEN- XD /hj /lh /silly):

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(TW: blood/gore, death, car crash incident, graphic imagery)

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S&S: There is a world where Brent never meets Eevee. There is a world where he wakes up one morning, yawning as he rubs his eyes. He'd been somewhat exhausted by his gaming session with "Sofist" last night, not that it was unenjoyable. He gets ready for the day as per usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It's all regular, for now, that is. Walking out of his apartment, he raises an eyebrow at the suspicious amount of cars stuck on the local road. Oh well, a crash of some kind? He shrugs and continues walking down the road. Ducking under some construction, he carefully avoids all the prying eyes and workers, taking his shortcut to the cafe. What he sees when he turns the corner, however? Well..

It's graphical, distraught to say the least. He can see the limb of somebody, splayed across the road in a pool of blood. He winces. Damn? They'd been sloppy setting up the perimeter apparently, blocking it from normal eye-witness view, but not from here. Either way, he couldn't make out too much between the ambulance and the police cars stationed in the intersection.

As for the authorities, he can make out them questioning certain people and speaking into their walkie talkies. Their faces are far away but filled with concern as they discuss with each other. Meanwhile, the paramedics tending to the body on the ground, and.. For some reason, he pauses. It's not in any of his good interests to watch this, to get involved with some random traffic incident of an unfortunate civilian, and yet? Something tugs at him, opposing his normal desire to stay out of conflict and general indifference/apathy. He doesn't know why, why this moment specifically?, but it doesn't.. feel.. weird. It's weirdly urging, instead bringing him to stop in his tracks. As he choicely watches the paramedics ready the body bag, he catches a glimpse of the poor man who had faced the consequences.

His hair was curly, coifs of coffee brown tinged with blood. His facial hair was the same color, and his gaze relaxed. His eyes were partially closed in a stereotypical thought of sleeping, with a glint from the sun revealing his hazed over green eyes, devoid of any brightness. What catches Brent's eye immediately, however, is his bright purple coat. Most of it is soaked with crimson gore, now a dark maroon, but even still. It's such a stand out, he can't help but wonder how the man even got hit in the first place.

After a few more seconds, the guided feeling seems to go away, and he turns his head away from the scene. (Unbeknownst to him, he'd been watching for, comparatively, far longer than a few seconds.) Best to move on, for whatever reason he felt compelled to watch EMTs deal with the body, almost as if he was making sure they would properly take care of him. It was weird, but whatever. He didn't have enough time to stay around and see him get sent off, realizing he was late for his shift. Despite his sudden spike of empathy, it was just another day, just with an unfortunate incident. He prayed for the man though, as he finally set foot onto regular sidewalk. May his soul, and whoever he is, rest in peace, for meeting such an untimely end.

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Walking into the cafe, the door closed behind him with the bell's signature jingle. Vern's head shot up, his face twisted with a hint of concern as he rushed over to Brent, who'd barely placed his bag on the desk before Vern grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and causing Brent to jolt a bit out of surprise.

"Brent! Oh my god, you scared me-" "?" "-I saw the crash nearby, and you- came in a few minutes later than you normally do, and- oh god I'd just thought the worst!" Vern could hardly control himself from his ramble, spilling out his emotions, but he paused when he noticed the rather amused look on Brent's face. Brent only chuckled at him, despite the severity of the situation/his anxiety. Vern gave him a dirty look, but let out a sigh of both relief and annoyance relief, glad to know his friend was okay.

As Vern let go of his shoulders, Brent starting unpacking stuff from his bag. Placing his log sheet and charger down in the little table within the break room, Vern asked:

"Why were you late anyways? You normally show up before I even get here. Did something.. actually happen while you were getting here?" He added tentatively.

"..." He paused, his hands tightening around his laptop, contemplating if it was worth it to tell Vern. About the man he'd seen, eyes hazed over in death, body dull and cold, hair stiff with dried blood. It was something in it of its own right, something that he wished he hadn't seen. But at the same time, the death of this random civilian weighed heavier than it should've in his heart. He didn't know why, but still, maybe it was the sight of his eyes; ones that pierced his soul, staring at him even after passing. They were so.. cold. Almost as if they were blaming, in hatred. His blood chilled, thinking about it all, and a heaviness set in the room. Oh. Man, he'd never felt this way before. He'd just witnessed death, hadn't he? How was he acting like this was all okay?

He held in a sigh, settling for a tight exhale as he shook his head, not looking up from his stuff. No, it was best not to trouble his more emotionally affected friend with his.. issues. Were he to tell Vern, he'd likely become more aggrieved than him. Even still, looking up and noticing Vern's still apprehensive gaze, he feigned a small smile; keeping it up even as he looked back down in the black expanses of his duffel bag, now empty. He couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "I'm serious dude, nothing happened. Don't worry about it."

"... Alright, if you say so." The air was thick with tension, the silence being left unbroken. Vern's footsteps were soft as they padded against the tiled floor, the door slowly creaking closed behind him. One last glance behind his shoulder, before he fully shut the door, putting on a smile to greet the guests that had entered the cafe. Meanwhile, the room had become dimmed sightly with the waning sunlight as the light from the cafe dissipated. Brent stared down once more, as if questioning the true morality behind what he'd seen. With a sigh, his shoulder slumped. Sitting down onto the rickety foldable chair, he put his head in his arms, on top of the table. He wasn't ready to go out. Not just yet. Not while the green eyes of someone haunted him. He couldn't just go and pretend everything was okay, even he had no damn idea why the death of some random stranger had messed him up so badly.

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Vern found him struggling to think of positive messages to write atop his orders for the rest of the afternoon. Brent did not come out of the break room for a long time, and even once he did, he was silent as he worked. Nick didn't come in for coffee that day.

[vacantfields]

... So. You had been avoiding the Daycare Attendants. You had known them for a few years now and had become relatively close to them! ... But ever since, a few months back, they've gotten separated into new bodies, you were, maybe, a little scared of them, you guess.

You were used to their big dinner plate-looking faces, along with their long limbs and odd personalities, that you adore, but now? Now they were 8 feet tall. They looked like they walked out of a model studio or something. Their broad shoulders and chests, their human-looking faces, it was all so shocking. So, as any normal person, you had gone home and taken a week off to really settle into the new look your two beloved jester boys had gotten. It's still them, you remind yourself repeatedly.

You still remind yourself that currently, months into the new looks they had. You couldn't look at them. Your face got red instantly every time. You've decided to avoid them for a while still, so you went on a different route for your night guard job this time. You walked past the Daycare, fidgeting with your flashlight. What you failed to remember is that both Sun and Moon are allowed to leave the Daycare as they please.

So you did not hear the double amount of bells jingling behind you as you checked a dark corner out near Rockstar Row to make sure there wasn't anything off. When you found nothing, you turned and froze as you craned your neck back to look at the tall Daycare Attendants. They looked... Upset. It's fair, you suppose. You had been avoiding them, but as you open your mouth to say something, Moon grabs the flashlight with his giant hand. It looks like a kid's toy in his hand, you note, and click it off so it doesn't mess with both of their eyes tossing it over his shoulder. You could hear it land on the floor with a thud.

Sun is the first one to speak. "Sunshine... Did we do something? You don't even..." his voice sounds so sad, strained, like he's trying not to cry. His rays are still out; you notice as they go in a slow wave-like pattern that somehow doesn't disturb his golden hair. He's also wearing his work outfit still: the jester pants, the shirt that matches, and the little silly shoes. "You don't come to greet us anymore, and you used to do it every day!" Sun said with a frown before looking down and away from you, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You frown, and again you try to speak, but Moon steps in front of Sun and bends at his waist to make sure he's face to face with you, his grin wide, but you notice his eyes are duller, upset. Moon watched you for a bit, his black hair hanging and framing his face. "If you want to get out of this friendship we supposedly have, why don't you just say so, Star? Hm? Why don't you just tell us that you don't like us anymore?" His voice was tense, bordering on a growl.

You look down at the floor, ashamed. Your voice meek as you speak up. "I didn't mean to... I just-"

Moon cut you off again. "Just what? Star? You think we are freaky, don't you? That's why you avoid us. You only felt pity for us, I suppose, but that ran out, hm? I think you need to be punished-" He hissed down at you as he stood at full height. Sun had put a hand on Moon's shoulder, kneading it slightly, you notice. Your eyes then flicker to Sun's, and your heart breaks.

Your dear Sunlight had tears. Actual tears running down his cheeks. "You... Is that true? I thought you would like these bodies more, Sunshine! I only agreed because Moonie said you would like us more if we were..." He sniffled as Moon wrapped an arm around his slim waist and shushed him gently before turning his eyes back to you.

"Nightguard." Oh, that stung when Moon called you that. "I think you should go home for tonight. I will do the patrols." Was all Moon said before gently taking Sun's hand with his free one as the other was still wrapped around the other's waist. They had already started to walk away.

Moon gave you no time to respond as you stood there aimlessly.

You would have to fix this somehow. You were praying to whoever was listening that it wasn't too late to mend this wound you caused.

When you exited the Pizzaplex, you could still hear Sun's soft sobs in your head.

---

Part.... 2?