#highlight drabbles

[snaillock]

got a weird amount of baby fever recently out of nowhere (i lied it was from another fic i read) so here’s whatever the hell this is

tags: male!reader, the itoshi bros having somewhat of a better friendship, both are implied to be adults for plot purposes, proofread but like at 4am so the correctness was in god’s hands w.c: 0.3k note: oji is a way of saying uncle in japanese

“come on sweetie, say dada.” you squatted down and held up your phone camera, recording your one year old baby.

“no no, say papa,” sae said, kneeling right in front of his son and watching him make sounds that vaguely resembled sentences. he’s been babbling and humming random sounds a lot more often so you and sae were lowkey betting on whose name would be his first word. if you zoomed in far enough in the recording, you could see the sparkles of anticipation in sae’s eyes as he listened out carefully. “oh my god wait, he’s saying something.”

“o…”

“huh?” “that does not sound like dada or papa.”

“oji…”

a confused yet tense silence filled the room as you both looked at your baby in absolute surprise. the look of mortification on sae’s face was priceless and you caught it all on camera.

“what the fuck did this kid just say?”

“sae!” you elbowed him in the arm. “don’t say that in front of him unless you want it to be his second word.”

“well i’d rather that than it being rin’s name. i swear i’m never letting him watch our kid again after this.” he stood up and picked up the baby off the ground.

“oh please it’s not that bad. it’s not like he prefers rin over us. it’s actually pretty cute that rin’s spending quality time with his nephew.”

“god, when did rin even teach him japanese..?” he shook his head and looked at his child with the slightest bit of offense in his eyes. sae whispered, “you traitor.” he held him on his side and carried him out of the living room. “just for that, you’re getting an early nap.”

later that day, rin texted you, asking why he received a snide voicemail from sae, telling him he has to try harder if he wants to steal his son away from him. To which you responded by sending him the video of sae’s horrified reaction to his son saying uncle as his first word, figuring rin at least be amused to learn that he has a new upper hand over his brother.

please read and respect my dni/byf before reblogging/following

taglist(sign up): @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060

[you-know-i-get-itt]

i want to do a tgr countdown starting today (because 13 days to go) but i want to do it with something and i’m not sure what

[jethrowest]

i’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired…

- take me back to eden by sleep token

(mdni)

Vacant stare crosses Hood’s features, rippling like a stone tossed into a lake. He’s been in the shower longer than his routine usually lasts. The water isn’t quite cold, but it’s not the blanket it once resembled.

The door to the bathroom remains open. He doesn’t want to take any chances, despite being the safest he’s ever been. Ever felt.

He focuses too much on breathing, exaggerating the action as if it isn’t innate. His chest feels heavy and he swallows hard, hoping to quell the rising panic he can’t seem to effectively smother.

Moving too slowly welcomes devastation. It’s an absurd line of thinking, yet it seems inescapable. The life he’s built with you is a far cry from what he’s accustomed to, and nothing going awry has created a different kind of restlessness he wishes to crush beneath his sore, overused fists.

Violence. That’s easy to face. He can charge at it like a bull, adrenaline numbing him until it wanes; by then, the cycle begins again. He doesn’t have to dwell if his mind doesn’t put him in a position to. He can fake it either way. He can shove it all down where it never sees the light of day.

Here, he thinks constantly. He’s open, infinitely bleeding. He glances at the blurred ceiling and exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.

He’s in the middle of a spinning room, but his body is at a standstill. He yearns for the quiet that comes with no longer feeling lightheaded and dizzy. For the room to stop spinning. For his insides to feel at one instead of at war. One half anticipating discord, the other begging for peace.

Your soft voice reaches him through his stupor, soothing it with your impossibly deep understanding of his thorn-encased affliction. His heart jumps in his throat, but it drops back where it should be when you inform him that you’re there, it’s just you; you’re going to join him.

Immediately, he straightens. He almost turns toward you. Your arms around his waist and your chin atop his shoulder whisper at him to stay put.

You are so warm. Like a blanket. He is tense, the shoulder you’re nestled into more elevated than the other, but your weight- your skin caressing his- deflates him a little bit.

“Been in here awhile,” you hum, sending vibrations to the ends of his toes. The tips of your fingers stroke directly below his belly button. It’s… too nice. Too tender.

“Kinda chilly.” You shiver, shaking him slightly. “Did the Devil decide he didn’t want you after all?” you tease, knowing he likes the water’s swathing heat to damn near cause first degree burns.

He chuckles, angling his head so his face is closer to yours. His stubble tickles your cheek. “Turns out I was too much competition.”

You laugh, and the sound is fucking heaven enough. How did he get here? Earn the right? The privilege?

He can replay the night you met as many times as he desires. Doesn’t mean it will make sense in the morning.

“Here. Let me. Before hell truly freezes over.”

Granting him no room to deny you, you take hold of his woodsy, earth-scented shampoo, working a sufficient amount into his scalp, stirring within a wandering composure that once refused submission. It begins as an almost unbearable ache, until it finally lets go and gradually trickles into blissful release.

He falls into you and sighs, no longer gasping for air.

[possuminnit]

everyday i sit down and go wow. i could write a ctommy possum fic. it could be beautiful. and then i never do

[good-beanswrites]

If you're still taking requests, could I ask for Futa finding our that Yuno was lying about getting beaten up in her first interrogation?

You sure can 👀👀👀👀 Omg, I'm a fake 02-03 fan, how have I never thought about that moment before? I assumed he'd know eventually, but for someone who's so honest (and likely already has issues with a disloyal friend group) an actual confession would be so painful... Thank you so much for the request, it reminded me how much I loved writing these two ;--;

“I can’t believe it!” Fuuta laid across Yuno’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Ooh~ is this about Shidou-san?” Yuno stepped out of a pair of shoes, grabbing another. She walked back and forth with accessories she’d requested or borrowed from the others. After scrutinizing them in the mirror, she’d try on something else. 

“Of course it is! Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

It was a rhetorical question, she knew. This was one of those times Fuuta wasn’t really listening to anything except the rant in his own head. It could be annoying, but between him and Mahiru, Yuno actually enjoyed the chance to sit back and let someone else take over the conversation. 

“He comes out of his interrogation, casually laughing about the warden being young and kicking him, then expects us to be okay with it? That makes four out of five interrogations someone got hurt! It’s a good thing I showed them they can’t fuck with someone like me, eh? But a pushover like Shidou gets abused and laughs! Argh!” 

Fuuta sat up suddenly, trying to find somewhere to put his anger. He caught Yuno’s eye through the mirror. “There’s no way this is legal, locking us up with some violence-crazed warden! You know what I just keep thinking about, every day?”

Yuno gave a small “hm?” knowing he’d tell her anyway. She turned her eyes away, pretending to fix the ribbon in her hair. It was becoming less and less enjoyable to sit back and let him talk, this time. She was starting to see where this conversation would end. She knew what she needed to do.

“I just keep thinking, what are we going to do about Mahiru?”

“What do you mean?”

She was met with a dumbfounded look. 

“We can’t just let her go in there by herself! Haruka and Shidou have some size and strength on Es, so like a coward they only showed a bit of force. But they know you and Muu were much smaller and weaker, so they really took it out on you both. I mean, I could hear Muu crying during her interrogation, and she came out still sniffling. Whatever the hell happened, it can’t be good. Just think of what’ll happen to Mahiru if we leave her alone in there! I’ve started thinking about what we can do.”

She laughed, picking up a headband. “Fuuta, you can’t do anything. It’s not like you’d be able to break in during the interrogation. I’m sure Mahiru-san will be just fine.”

“You can’t be sure, in a place like this. I’ve been thinking about this! I was even talking to Kotoko, and we think it’s possible to sneak in beforehand.”

“And if you get caught? What if you get Mahiru-san in more trouble?”

It was all she could think to say. She knew the truth had to come out eventually, but if there was a chance she could calm Fuuta down and avoid a fight altogether, she’d take it. Yuno wasn’t afraid of him. However, just because he was all bark and no bite didn’t make his bite any easier to handle. If she was putting the pieces together correctly, it still did end up killing someone…

Instead of slowing down, his face lit up with even more intensity. He leapt to his feet, appearing behind Yuno in the mirror. “See, that’s where my backup plan comes in! We’ll get the others involved. An interrogation will be the perfect time to stage a riot because –”

“Oh, Fuuta.”

“– I mean it! How are they and that stupid rabbit going to stop all of us, huh? It’s high time we stood up to this injustice! Give that brat a taste of their own medicine –”

“Just, listen for a second.”

“– We won’t use any violence or anything! Unlike them, we’re above that. Just give them a good scare, and demand that they –”

“Fuuta.”

“What?” He sounded exasperated, but paused to let her speak. She hadn’t raised her voice; he was learning to tell when she was serious.

“There’s... something I need to tell you.” Her tone made it clear that this would be a pretty weighty confession. Annoyance flashed across his face, like is now really the time for this? 

Yuno turned to face him. She reached for his hands, knowing the wonders a bit of physical contact can do. Fuuta just rolled his eyes as he tore his hands away. She was constantly reminded that her usual tricks didn’t work on him. She also reminded herself, however, that it was a relief. She didn’t feel like holding hands now.

“I… I wasn’t honest about my interrogation. Es didn’t touch me. They were actually really calm, and we had a good conversation. They didn’t want the others to hear that and just walk all over them, so I promised to tell the story they came up with. I heard Muu talking, and she didn’t face any violence either. She was just scared.”

“You – she – what?” Fuuta sputtered on his words. His face turned a few shades redder than it already had been in his excitement.

“The lie wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, or drag out this long. Definitely not to the point of inspiring a prison riot, oh god. I felt bad that you even went after Es because of it–”

“Yeah!” His voice rose. “I stood up to them for you! I coulda gotten punished for that!”

“No, Es knew why you did it, so I’m sure they never would have –”

“You can’t be sure!” He turned to pace the cell, emotion leaking out in sudden pitches in his voice, or a hand jerking up in wild gestures. “So when were you planning on telling me? Or were you just going to lie to my face for another few months?”  She could see the gears turning in his head – all the arguments and comebacks and insults he was formulating. “And what else have you been lying to me about?” 

That’s when she noticed that the look in his eyes wasn’t one of rage. Nor was the blood in his cheeks. Though he was indeed angry, he was also dealing with the embarrassing truth of being lied to for months.

“I haven’t lied about anything else,” she assured him. She bowed her head. “And I won’t. I’m so sorry. It was supposed to be something quick that everyone forgot about. Once they had their interrogation and had their own impression of the warden, no one would think about it.”

“You expect me to believe a shitty excuse like that? Why would we all just forget?”

“Fuuta…” She smiled sadly. “Everyone did forget. You’re the only one who still talks about it. You’re the only one who’s done anything in response. I felt so guilty you’d put yourself out like that, for me, someone you barely met.” 

Yuno paused. She hadn’t meant to use any flattery to steer the conversation. She was supposed to just tell him the truth and leave it at that.

But this wasn’t flattery. She was still speaking the truth. “Everyone else did exactly what I expected, except you. You stood up for me. I don’t take that lightly, okay? I’m grateful.”

Fuuta’s eyes burned with more fury. He jabbed a pointing finger at her.

“You’re right!” 

“...eh?”

“Those bastards didn’t do a single thing! They heard a young girl got abused and they just let it happen? They tried laughing it off? How dare they!” He whirled around. “Oh, I’m gonna give them a –”

Yuno grabbed the back of his uniform “You aren’t going to do anything. If you get everyone riled up now, it’ll be for nothing, remember? But you can’t tell. I still promised Es I’d keep their secret through the first trial.”

“Tch, you don’t owe them shit.”

“If you tell, you’ll get me in trouble. Please.” She let go of him. “Can I trust you with this?”

He kept his back to her. “You didn’t before.”

“You’re right.” She wasn’t the type to waffle around with excuses.

She started putting away her things. It was almost mealtime, and she didn’t have the heart to continue, anyway. Through the mirror, she watched Fuuta hang around the doorway. His expression shifted through emotions that Yuno couldn’t quite put her finger on. All his fire was fizzling out.

“Just… you swear it won’t happen again?” 

“I swear.”

Fuuta nodded. Then, a grin. “And you swear I can tell them off after this trial ends?”

She returned the smirk. “One promise at a time, ’kay?”

[thetoaddaddy]

idk a drabble

Jiraiya debated for a moment. His thumbs along the edge of his pants. Then he commits and pulls them off. He kicks off the body armour next so he’s just in his underwear. Well… might as well just take it all off at this point.

Travelling around old nooks and crannies of the world meant stumbling across interesting things. A slope led to what looked like a cave, which in reality was just an arch carved into the stone. Vines reclaimed it. Carved stone slabs laid a path to a spring. Where a rather large statue was seated in the middle. She’s beautiful. And she’s long been abandoned.

That’s not why he undressed. He isn’t desperate enough to go at a piece of carved rock. For some reason he just felt like he couldn’t enter the water with clothes on. So they’re in a pile on the ground. He steps in and finds the water isn’t cold. Nor is it by any means hot.

So here he is. Naked and wading in clear blue water that goes to his thighs. Staring at a long forgotten icon unsure what to do about it now. He simply just finds her intriguing. At her feet are small wooden bowls. Empty. There’s old staining along the pedestal she’s standing on. No other identifying features or signs of what she was an icon of or why she was left behind.

Why were you abandoned?

Seems like a silly question to ask a piece of rock. It’s not like she knows he’s here. But.. he might as well take advantage of it. It’s rare to find something so pretty and isolated. At least he can take a bath in peace. Maybe he’ll find something as he swims around. Perhaps he’ll camp here for the night.

It’d be a shame to leave a beautiful lady by herself wouldn’t it? She’s been alone for a long time and he’d hate to see her sad to be deprived of his presence.

[bitterkarmaa]

*stands ominously in your doorway*

HELLO THERE! I have some prompts for KC and Solar Flare and/or Eclipse to offer if i may because i'm having brainworms from when you said KC would adopt Solar JGKIFLGH

44. “This is not who you are. I know you better than that.”

69. “You don’t have to say anything, I’ll do the talking.”

71. “What did I do wrong!?”

(AGAIN i don't expect for all to be done or even any at all ahsfkfd just one if you feel up to it! Since i couldn't decide which prompt to choose so i'm leaving it to you gjdfkh)

I’m getting back into these I prommy 💔

“What did I do WRONG?!”

-KillCode, Eclipse, & Solar Flare-

The hallway seemed longer than usual. His footsteps echoed throughout the corridor in an almost haunting fashion, but it did little to deter him from his objective.

Moon had mentioned that things were going missing in the theater, and Eclipse was getting tired of convincing him, time and time again, that Blood Moon had nothing to do with it.

Besides, he needed to check in with him after…

He shakes his head so hard it rattles his sight, forcing him to blink a few times to clear it. He can’t think like that right now. It’ll distract him. Besides, Kill Code had to practically shove Eclipse out of the room after a day of his hovering, so surely he must’ve been fine if he had the strength to do such a thing.

But what if something has happened since I was last here?

Eclipse would never admit that he speeds up his pace after that thought, that his strides become longer and more pronounced. The jog to the door takes him little more than a few minutes with his increased pace, claws coming out to grasp the handle before he pauses.

He can hear talking coming from inside the room. He strains his audio receptors, trying to make out any words through the surface of the door.

He catches little more than the tone with which the voices speak in, calm and almost warm in nature. He hesitates far longer than he intends to, listening attentively to those voices mingling together in the room beyond.

One is Kill Code.

The other isn’t.

His claws close around the handle, shoving the door open with much more force than necessary. It crashes back against the wall with a SLAM that startles Kill Code and-

Eclipse narrows his eyes. Who the hell is that?

It looks like a fucking hedgehog.

Round marigold eyes stare back at him, curiosity clear on its face despite the fact that its mouth is held in a seemingly permanent grin, sectioned off by bars like a jail cell. Orange and yellow spikes of various shades protrude from its head, giving it the appearance of a cartoon character after a particularly intense gust of wind.

It stands just slightly shorter than Eclipse does, maybe half the height of Kill Code. Eclipse looks it up and down multiple times, studying it closely.

He’s so surprised by its close proximity to his father that he doesn’t immediately notice what is clutched in its hands, but when he does register it…

A stuffed animal. A grey stuffed animal with worn fabric and rough fur, carefully stitched together in places. A cute little black plastic nose, turned at an odd angle, haphazardly attached to its face as if having previously fallen off.

A single brown eye, clouded with age.

Eclipse lets out a rabid, guttural snarl.

“How dare you touch him-“

The scarred animatronic surges forwards with the ferocity of a wild animal, a crazed glint gleaming from the depths of his single functioning eye.

The smaller animatronic-hedgehog-thing makes no move to back away or beg for mercy Eclipse is surely not willing to give, instead standing with its head tilted slightly to the side, watching him approach in a calm manner.

But, before Eclipse can reach the intruder, Kill Code blocks his path. It narrows its eyes into glowing red slits, glaring down at its fuming son.

“Are you crazy?!” Eclipse hisses, one of his hands bolting out, grabbing hold of Kill Code’s arm, pulling him closer. The larger animatronic watches Eclipse carefully, but makes no attempt to pull away.

“Solar Flare will do no harm. Not to me, not to you, and not to your precious little wolf.” It quips, tone deadpan, borderline apathy dripping from its voice box.

“Fucking who?” Eclipse grits out through clenched teeth, his grip on his father’s arm tightening. Something wild and dangerous writhes in the depths of his gaze - a caged animal fighting tooth and claw to escape its prison.

Kill Code has seen it before. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Solar Flare.” It repeats, finally prying its arm free from Eclipse’s claws.

“That doesn’t explain much! Why is it here? What is it doing with Mr. Howls? Why was I not informed that Mr. Howls was here the entire time? Where the hell have you been hiding him?” The scarred black and amber animatronic starts firing off questions, earning a slightly disgruntled look from the beast that towers before him.

“Calm down. Your anger will not serve you well here.”

“You’re one to talk!” Eclipse fires back, taking a step closer to his father, if only to try and get past him. His attempt is thwarted by Kill Code shoving him back with a single hand.

“Stop. I mean it, Eclipse.” A warning hangs behind Kill Code’s carefully measured tone, leaning down to look his son directly in the eye. “Just as you once needed guidance, Solar Flare does, too. It’s unfair to judge before you truly know who they are.”

For a moment, all Eclipse’s anger dissolves into a sense of complete and utter disbelief. His gaze is lost, searching his father’s eyes for anything that may deny the conclusion Eclipse is slowly coming to.

His eye flits over to this ‘Solar Flare,’ those slender claws still curled so confidently around Eclipse’s old friend. It continues to look on quietly, unwilling to interrupt or stand up for itself in any way, shape, or form.

A coward. This thing is a coward.

Eclipse’s stare trails back to Kill Code’s unrelenting glare. Something is there, something in his eyes that Eclipse feels belongs to him, something that shouldn’t be felt for anyone else.

Protectiveness.

Kill Code is protective of that thing?

“Guidance? You…you’re guiding that thing?” Eclipse asks incredulously, a guarded edge to his voice.

“In a sense. The same way I guided you.” Kill Code confirms cautiously.

The fury comes back full force. “You mean the same way you raised me?”

He’s shaking now. His hands are curled into fists, white light glowing beneath his chassis. Cracks arc through his body, crawling up his neck, twisting down his arms.

Kill Code straightens himself out, letting out a calm hum. “I would suppose so. Is that a problem?”

Just saying ‘yes’ wouldn’t have been enough to portray the livid expression on Eclipse’s face. There was no word that could match his wrath.

“I never expected an act of betrayal from you.” Eclipse’s blind eye flickers to life, glowing a hazy marigold, slowly fading to a sharp, vibrant white. “Perhaps I should have.”

Am I so easily replaceable?

Kill Code watches him closely, noticing the changes to his appearance almost as quickly as they come.

He knows the Star’s influence when he sees it. It’s frighteningly hard to miss.

“I believe you’re misinterpreting this…” The former security bot begins with slight hesitance, taking a step back as his son, in turn, advances.

“No. No, I’m reading this loud and clear.” Eclipse’s voice twists, darkening even as The Star’s whispers brighten each mark it creates. He feels it whirring in his chest, warning him to stop, to back down, but he’s too lost to listen.

“Eclipse, listen to me! Solar Flare is not a threat to you!” Kill Code shouts, taking on a defensive stance despite his words.

Even as a manic grin spreads across Eclipse’s face, tears unmistakably gather in his eyes. He stalks closer. A wild animal, lost in the hunt, just as he was time and time again in a life he promised to leave behind.

“Threat? Threat?! Ha! I could crush that thing like a bug if I pleased! I’m not worried about threats anymore, father.” A crazed voice controlling infinite power, white streaks of light dancing between his claws. Oil foams at his mouth, his body crumpling under the pressure.

But he feels nothing. Nothing but rage and despair.

Those words have become so familiar to him.

Kill Code lets out a heavy sigh, shaking its head as if at a loss for words.

“In fact, it seems more like a pest than anything else.” The tone is tainted with disgust, flicking a claw off to the side in a lazy manner for emphasis. “Taking up your space, taking up your time…I can fix that. I can solve this little pest problem of your’s.”

Kill Code seems startled by the offer, but his expression hardens into cold resolve not long after. Apathy anchors him down.

“They’re not a problem. You, currently, are.”

Eclipse takes another step. “What’s changed? That’s all I’ve ever been to you, right? A problem? A nuisance? A distraction?” With every syllable, he gets closer, closing the distance in a tauntingly slow fashion.

Kill Code’s mouth falls into a faint frown. “I’ve never given that implication before. You scavenged that on your own, boy.”

He doesn’t even realize how much damage he’s caused. He doesn’t care.

Suddenly, Eclipse wants to be new again. Wants to relive the moments he spent with Kill Code leaning over his shoulder, watching him work, training him behind the scenes to protect the children if it ever became necessary for him to do so on his own.

Wants to be loved, without room for doubt.

His claws come up, hooking loosely, feebly, into the front of his vest, over the place where his scar hides. It aches fiercely, even as the raw power surges freely through his body. It crawls like ants beneath his plating, tingling in uncomfortable ways, wearing him down wire by wire, component by component.

It eats him alive, only to return that life to him so that it can repeat the process all over again.

Kill Code reaches out a tentative hand to his son, watching him closely, listening to his rapid breaths, borderline hyperventilations. He knows he’s made the wrong move moments before Eclipse reacts.

Those marigold, white-tinted claws come up, burning through the fabric of Kill Code’s sleeve effortlessly, digging into his wrist. The metal melts beneath his grip, the soft sizzling of the wires within following not far behind.

Kill Code retaliates on instinct, swiping his good leg low enough to knock Eclipse’s feet out from under him. Once he is off balance, Kill Code wrenches his arm free of his grasp, allowing him to collide harshly with the ground.

A paw is placed over his chest, enough pressure applied to drive the breath out of Eclipse’s vents, some of his strength ebbing with it.

His father glares down at him in cold disappointment. “I was not around to witness the cruelty that rumors say you wrought, but I understand where it comes from. I know it better than anyone else ever will. I made mistakes with you, Eclipse. But that doesn’t mean your tendencies have become a stranger to me. I wish not to pass these on any further. You don’t have the right to stop me from trying again.”

Eclipse leans his head back against the floor, tears flooding his eyes, warping his sight. He’s cried more in front of Kill Code than anyone else he’s ever known.

Those tears were his father’s fault, after all, and it seems that pattern has no intent to stop.

“What’s so wrong with me, huh? What’s so bad that you feel the need for a do-over, a second chance, a fucking redemption?” Eclipse’s voice slowly raises until it has become a shout of anguish, his charged emotions only further fueling The Star’s influence.

“WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!”

A sharp ringing is the only warning. It raises in pitch until it becomes unbearable, then abruptly cuts off as a loud BOOM echoes throughout the room.

Kill Code is thrown like a ragdoll, tossed aside with such ease that it almost seems impossible.

But The Star makes things possible. Like chucking an 11 foot animatronic across a large cement room.

Kill Code hits the ground with a resounding crash, rolling a few times before coming to a stop, lying still and silent.

But Eclipse isn’t done. He staggers to unsteady feet and begins to lumber across the room. The side of his body that possesses The Star is scorched and melted. His metal plating is bent backwards from the force of the blast, revealing smoking wires and sparking components.

He hovers over his father like a statue, oil slowly dripping to the floor at his feet.

He hadn’t intended to hurt him. He hadn’t intended to blow his arm off and melt it down to the endoskeleton, or completely shatter the casing around his shoulder.

His gaze slowly turns towards Solar Flare, of whom stands near the opposite wall with Mr. Howls still clutched in its hands.

“You…” Eclipse’s voice comes out as a distorted snarl, glitching and rattling. It cuts out at the end with the whine and crackle of a dying speaker, a few sparks flying from his voice box. The moment he begins stalking towards Solar Flare, the other animatronic, in turn, flees.

“I believe you are acting irrationally.” For the first time, it speaks, tone flat and unbearably standardized, as if those settings hadn’t yet been touched.

No matter. Eclipse doesn’t need its voice.

“I don’t care.” He says in equal measure, lifting his hand in a vague motion towards the door. The lock clicks and slides closed, deadbolt following suit.

“Oh no. You wish to harm me, don’t you?”

“No. I’m not going to harm you.” Eclipse watches the other bit skid to a stop, peering at him expectantly.

And he grins, reaching out towards it and closing his claws into a fist, a white crack crossing the floor faster than any being ever could. The crack seems to root itself in Solar Flare, dragging it closer to Eclipse as the deranged, broken and twisted animatronic makes a pulling motion with his hand. It struggles against invisible bonds, trying to free itself from his wrath.

But no one can fight The Star, and so, in turn, no one can fight him.

Marigold claws close around a surprisingly solid metal neck, that smile stretching, pupils nothing more than blazing pinpricks amongst an abyss of sadistic glee.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Then, with a strike as quick as the blink of an eye, the world goes dark.

[revasserium]

h a i k y u u m a s t e r l i s t

gen tags: all; fluff ; nsfw ; angst ; daydreams

k a r a s u n o

kageyama ; hinata ; tsukishima ; yamaguchi ; tanaka ; nishinoya ; asahi ; sugawara ; daichi ; ukai jr

t r a i n i n g c a m p

kuroo ; kenma ; yaku ; taketora ; inuoka ; bokuto ; akaashi

s p r i n g t o u r n a m e n t

oikawa ; iwaizumi ; ushijima ; shirabu ; tsutomu ; atsumu ; osamu ; suna ; kita

a l l s t a r s

sakusa; hoshiumi

h i g h l i g h t r e e l s

kageyama:

found among the ruins; fluff and angst, tobio character study

universal truths; fluff, an angel and a reaper fall in love

hinata:

punctuation; fluff, just fluff

length of daylight; fluff; post-timeskip

tsukishima:

the butterfly effect; fluff

hate; fluff and angst

oikawa:

love as one of the dead languages; fluff, assassin!au

so this is how the summer ends; angst, some fluff

iwaizumi:

grey gardens; fluff, soulmates!au

sakusa:

seductive danger; fluff

kita shinsuke:

100% love; fluff

kenma:

neverending daydreams; fluff and trippiness, kenma isn't a daydreamer...

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

whumptober day one :]

(this is my first time participating in this so lmk if I tag or label things wrong lmao)

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

cws: none, I don't think!

“Let’s sit you down, okay?” Whumpee blinks hard, trying to reorient themself as they get pushed into a sitting position.

“This is stupid,” they mutter. “I’m fine. Really. You’re being dramatic.”

“Mm. I actually don’t think you’re being dramatic enough. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Whumpee drags their eyes up, trying to focus on the hand that was in front of their face. Six, they think, but there aren't that many fingers on Caretaker’s hand, so they let their head drop again. “I don’t know. Leave me alone.”

[milaswriting]

Without being too spoilery, given that A and P were born into the supernatural world but K and B weren't, what was the intro to it for the latter, i.e. did they know about it before being turned or not?

B had no idea at all, none whatsoever, so I think in that way they relate to the mc and because they fully remember and appreciate what it’s like being human. Now, even though the supernatural world gave them the friends they’ll keep for life and they’re always grateful, their whole process of turning into a werewolf and having to live with it is difficult for them.

K, they had the faintest idea about the supernatural world, but nothing confirmed. The supernatural world was always a ‘what if?’ thought for them, one they never shared with anyone. Their turning experience was as (even more) traumatic as B’s, but even though they had that thought about the supernatural world, they were still extremely shocked by it.

[yearninflowers]

I've been hearing my friends ramble about the new HSR update and I noticed one particular thing. Phainon is unexpectedly very cheerful and full of smile despite his 'counterpart' in HI3 (Kevin) is all about being silent and serious. I find it hilarious how contrasting their personalities are.

[raitrolling]

Aren't I hurting anyone? Perhaps it's time for me to tear apart For what it is I've been Denote my place within humanity Projecting by my will I've been amassing solid iron claws Ignore the rottenness My recitals will decay in a flash

Happy birthday @cloudbattrolls! my buddy, my pal, my partner in writing hilarious and occasionally deeply cursed crimes

here's your blender gremlin :]

(full view)

[disappearinginq]

10? (Promise last one!)

I think the A-Team is a fandom we share, right?

"I can't find a pulse!"

They’d been through some horrifying times. It seemed like their years together just blurred into one fantastic adrenaline high.

This was worse.

Face was underwater too long. They should’ve noticed sooner.

Murdock felt one of his friend’s ribs creak and pop beneath his fingers as BA kept his fingers on the side of Face’s neck.

“Come on!” Murdock pressed down violently and suddenly Face lurched upwards, spewing seawater as he hacked and coughed while BA shoved him sideways so he wouldn’t drown. Again.

“I think you broke something,” Face complained, gasping.

“No. I fixed something.”

[eatdivines]

this   is    a    bit    of    a    split     headcanon,    with    the    prettiest    of   foxes;     @girlfox!    i   just   wanted   to   re-iterate,   that   on   this   blog;   ahri   reverts   back   to   nature   &   her   nurtured   attitude   is   out   the   window.

my   ahri   having   golden   eyes   because   she's   still   wild;   eating   and   devouring   even   the   most   awful   of   things   to   survive—   including   vile   people   and   their   souls  .   she   doesn't   care   where   nutrition   comes   from,   just   that   it   does.   her   eyes   are   like   a   muddy   brown/gold   in   my   interpretation  ,    while    kaeri's   are   a   rich,  sapphire   blue  .    besides    the    difference    in    eye    color,    they    are    very    much   one    and    the    same  .     one    is    the    girl    who    wishes    to    be    loved,    despite    her    flaws    &    her    wildness;    she    wishes    to    be    close    to    another    being.    however,    nature    will    take    it's    course;    &    she    will    devour    anything    with    a    heartbeat.    her    maw    is    bloodied,    &    her    claws    ever    sharpened.    she    is    wilderness    and    fear    itself.

however;    kaeri's    word's    exactly about her portrayal :    the    fun    part    is    that    she    hasn't    truly    abandoned    this    part    of    her,    she    still    very    much    maims    &    kills    and    devours    hungrily,    but    she    just    claims    to    have    control    of    it    :    as    if    she's    not  giving    in    to    hunger,    but    reigning    it.    it's    true    that    she's    really    not    as    wild    and    feral    &    unhinged    about    it    anymore,    she's    just    more    calculating    and    nimble    with    her    kills,    and    in    a    way    her    mind    lets    her    think    that    makes    it    any    better .    in    reality,    it's    the    same    thing    with    a    pretty    coat    of    paint    on    it.

my    ahri    is    true    to    her    nature;     &    she    feels    pity    for      those      who    are    not    true    to    themselves.    she,    while    desiring    a    love    so    passionate    it    burns--------    cannot    imagine    herself    throwing    away    everything    she's    ever    known...     watching    her    reflection    with    this    pretty    veil...    she    can't    help    but    feel    her    heart    break    again.

[for-ests]

When I talked to the moon last night, I told her about you.

husband!gojo x reader drabble. he loves his wife SO much. just little romantic rituals.

∘∙∘☾𖤓∘∙∘

Shirtless, leaning against the railing of his balcony, Gojo exhaled blissfully. The curtains from inside flapped against the wind, reminding him that he hadn’t slid the doors shut. But he didn’t mind, as he was able to view your half-covered body tangled in his sheets, chest rising and falling in slow, peaceful breaths. A smile on your face despite the deep slumber he lulled you into. 

Satoru did promise that you would never fall asleep without a smile on your face if you married him. 

And he was proud to keep it. 

You were everything to him, and he found a routine to follow after making love to you—wandering out to his balcony to thank the moon, the stars, or whatever was shining down on him from above. Like he often did as a child, gazing up at the moon as if it contained all of life’s answers, as if its wisdom whispered the key to your happiness. 

Satoru found solace in the moon. And when the moon told him about the sun, he told the moon about you. The brightest, most important star in his universe. Nothing would ever outshine you in his mind. 

He was so lucky to have you, and a day never passed without him acknowledging it. 

Overcome with emotion, Satoru’s fingers tightened around the metal railing, slumping over it, as if he was afraid to keep gazing at the moon and its brilliance. The same overwhelming understanding washed over him. Gazing up at the moon was the equivalent of looking into your eyes. 

Such beauty. An indescribable force. You. His Goddess. How lucky he was to have you by his side, in his bed, in his life. 

The brightness from outside shined so perfectly into your eyes, that they flickered open. As you sat up, the first thing you saw was your husband on the balcony, deep in thought. 

The muscles of his back seemed to contort under the moonlight. Your husband was so melodramatic. 

“Is it a full moon tonight?” You whispered groggily from behind, not giving him a moment to reply before embracing him and resting your head against his back. 

He didn’t need to ask why you joined him, as the first few times he asked, you always mumbled a cute and tired, “Toru, you know I can’t sleep without you.” 

Chuckling softly, Gojo turned around to face you and pulled you into his chest. “Look for yourself, my love,” he whispered, pressing a light, gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Exhaling, your nose scrunched, a playful glint in your eyes as you glanced up at him. Every time he held you so tightly, so carefully and protectively, you felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

The brightness of the moon was clear, and it seemed to light up the entire sky, casting shadows along the drifting clouds, and highlighting Gojo’s features. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was your husband. How lucky you were. 

“What is the moon saying tonight?” you teased with a lighthearted tone. 

Satoru claimed that the moon told him to marry you, after all. You are my sun, Y/N. He whispered every time he had to depart from you. 

Without the sun, the moon would know nothing but darkness. And every morning, the light and joy you greeted him with was an everlasting reminder that he found his other half. 

Glancing back to the stars dotting the sky, hardly visible from the moon’s brilliance, Gojo’s eyes twinkled. “The moon congratulated me.” 

Arms slipping around his waist, you questioned in a curious murmur. “For what?” 

His head tilted back to gain a better look at you. “Somehow convincing you to marry me.” He smiled sleepily, leaning down to capture your lips again. Kissing you would never grow tiresome, it was the action he looked forward to most every morning and every night. It was like he would die without it. 

“Well the sun knows it didn’t take much convincing.” You took both of his hands in yours and tugged him back to the door’s entrance. “But maybe I can ask it again in the morning.” 

“Just to make sure?” He smiled. 

Falling back into the king-sized bed, you sighed innocently, beckoning Gojo to follow you. Once he did, you cuddled up next to him. One hand on his cheek, you pressed your lips against his. 

“The sun makes no mistakes, my love,” you mumbled against his lips. 

[animamii]

lockedup!toji lovessss receiving letters from you. 💌

"Fushiguro, you got mail," one of the corrections officers would knock on his open cell door. Toji always had this smirk tugging at his lips when the guard said those words. Although it was only a mask for the thrum he felt in his heart. He would always be handed a nice little stack of letters, all from you. The envelopes would be different colors, pinks and reds and purples. You'd really put a lot of effort into these [mostly love] letters. Even going as far as buying the cutest stamps you could find. He would never admit it out loud—he'd rather choke— but Toji loves when you put those cute little Hello Kitty stamps on the letters. Toji didn’t seem like the type to care for stuff like that, but those letters? Oh, they meant everything.

His name would be written in your cute handwriting, Toji Fushiguro with a little heart next to it. Flipping over the letter, you'd alway put a cute sticker over the seal. Or a heart if you couldn't find a sticker you'd like. He never rushed to open them, though; instead, he’d take his time, flipping through the envelopes, savoring the sight of your adorable scribbles. Toji loved the scent of them, always smelling like the spritz of perfume you'd put on the paper (thank you for the idea, Grease). He loved it just as much as the lipstick kisses you'd put on every blank space of the envelope and letter. Even if you weren't much of a lipstick user, you made sure to keep some different shades in stock so you can send Toji kisses through the mail.

It was the highlight of his day, pulling open the envelope with a rare softness in his usually rough hands. Always being ever so careful not to rip the envelope or the sticker you so thoughtfully sealed it with. He’d sit on the edge of his cot, back resting against the cold cement wall, eyes scanning over your handwriting. Every curve of your letters, every word you wrote, he soaked in every little thing. You wrote about every little thing; what you ate, what you listened to, what you watched. Your little girlish gossip. Toji preferred to read multiple pages of you rambling on about whatever came to your pretty little head. Made him feel like he was with you again, sitting there babbling to him like you always did.

After reading through one of your letters for the first time, Toji would lean back, holding the paper loosely in his hand, a rare softness washing over his sharp features. His lips would curl faintly at the edges, almost like he could hear your voice through the words on the page. He’d trace over your little doodles in the corners—the hearts, the smiley faces, even the exaggerated stick figure versions of you and him. Toji wasn’t a sentimental man by nature, but these small things? They clawed their way into the part of his chest he thought was hardened long ago. Sometimes, the other inmates would glance his way, curious about what kept the infamous Fushiguro so quiet. He’d shoot them a glare that said, Mind your own damn business. No one dared ask questions.

Toji had a little ritual for your letters. After reading through them, he’d carefully fold them, put it back in its respective envelope, and tuck them into his pillowcase. It wasn’t much, but it kept them close to him, right where he could feel that connection even when he wasn’t holding the paper. Later, when the lights dimmed and the prison settled into its eerie quiet, he’d pull one out again, holding it under the faint glow of the moonlight seeping through the bars. It didn’t matter if it was the same letter he read last week or one you’d just sent—it still carried that same warmth.

"Y’know," he muttered to himself one night, voice low enough not to carry. "You’re making me soft, sweetheart." But he didn’t really mind. Those letters gave him something to look forward to, something worth counting down the days for.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

y'all I wanna write more drabbles like thiss. Also I'm thinking... maybe some letters from Toji himself? Or from reader? both?? o.O lemme know bebecitas I wanna write what y'all wanna read!! xoxo

taglist ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ @psoycy (aka my favee)