#i feel like i did a starter call not that long ago but shhh it doesn't hurt to toss this out anyway uvu

[tvrningout-a]

hmm what if i take lyrics and quotes and offer lil itty bitty starters while i'm working on these asks... perhaps specify a muse or leave it up to who i'm feeling atm!

[ohhipstaplease]

Strawberry Sugar | NH

In which an uncharacteristically bashful Naruto finally realizes he’s in love with Hinata over a slice of strawberry shortcake.

nsfw | semi-canon divergence | ongoing

Read: Ao3 / FFN

Chapter 1

They say it takes about three seconds to fall in love with someone, but how long does it take to be reciprocated? That was exactly the question that Hinata Hyuga asked herself time and time again.

Ever since she had blatantly admitted her love to the boy she had been fawning over since their schoolyard days, she had realized that perhaps if it didn't happen within those three minuscule seconds, it never would. After all, love was something you either felt or you didn't, and clearly her golden boy, well, it seemed as if he felt the latter.

Hinata's cheeks reddened at the thought of her confession. It had come at the most unexpected, and perhaps, most inappropriate times—right at the cusp of the Fourth Shinobi World War. To be completely fair, she had believed that she would not survive the battle. She had really thought that was the final stand for her, and who better to take it for. She was willing to put his life before hers, the whole village was. Ultimately, he was the one who would save the entirety of the nation. What was one for many? But before she confronted her own mortality, she only thought it right to make it clear to him why she was willing to so easily die for him.

But he didn't understand. Or rather, he did, but not to the extent that Hinata had hoped. Quite clearly she was alive and well. The sun shined, the birds chirped loudly, and the familiar smells of the various shops preparing for the breakfast rush surrounded her. But still, even though she had made her confession, even though she had been on the brink of death right alongside him, nothing had changed.

She had thought that the moment would bring clarity, not only to her but to the boy who had been the reason she had become the woman she was now. But it had been over a year and he had not said a word about the matter. But, then again, it was in the middle of a battle, so you know, emotions run high. He could have written it off to that whole thing about being confronted with your mortality and saying things you don't wholeheartedly mean in the heat of the moment. Or he could have confused the love she had confessed to him for one similar to that of which he felt for his longtime rival Sasuke. You know, the sibling kind of love that has nothing amorous or passionate to do with it? That's the one.

Why did Hinata think that? Well for starters Naruto had taken to calling her for trivial things, things that honestly did not put her anywhere other than in the friend zone. From walking him back to his apartment after his physical therapy, to just helping him pick out a new rug for his too-cold wooden floor, Naruto had, perhaps without realizing, told Hinata what he had thought of her declaration without saying a word.

Hinata constantly ran various scenarios through her head, but all she could come up with was that Naruto simply didn't reciprocate what she felt for him. That she had to let it go.

And just as she ran that thought through her mind for the billionth time, she found herself bumping into Sakura Haruno, one-third of Team 7, and currently, one of Naruto's closest confidants.

"Hinata! It's been so long"

Hinata's lavender eyes widened in surprise as she saw a blur of pink and maroon before feeling a pair of strong, almost too strong, arms around her shoulders.

"Sa-Sakura-chan"

"Yes?"

"You're hurting me"

Sakura stepped back and laughed loudly, a big smile upon her face. Her cherry blossom colored hair was slightly askew, her clothes a little worn, clearly she was coming back from some mission or another she had most likely been sent on.

"How are you?" Sakura asked, taking hold of Hinata's hand.

Hinata curled her fingers around her friend's and smiled, "I've been alright. Hanabi's birthday is tomorrow, I just wanted to make sure that we had her favorite strawberry shortcake at home."

Sakura nearly squealed, "She's getting so big! I can't believe she's turning fourteen!"

"I know," Hinata exclaimed, "I can barely believe it myself."

"Are you heading to the bakery? I'll walk with you, I need some things myself. My fridge is completely empty! Can you believe I went home expecting to have at least instant ramen in the cupboard and I found absolutely nothing?"

"Oh, you need to take better care of yourself," Hinata said, concern clearly etched upon her face.

"Tell that to Naruto. You know he's planning on going on missions soon? I don't know who in their right mind would clear that, Tsunade-sama hasn't even finished working on his arm. I really don't know what to do with him."

"Hmm," Hinata mumbled, blushing and looking down at the gravel under her feet.

Sakura held back a chuckle, "He still hasn't said anything, has he?

"About?"

"You know what about."

"I-I uh."

"Don't get all worked up," Sakura said, looking at her friend's changing complexion. Beads of sweat began to form upon Hinata's forehead, and her once smooth and warm hand became clammy at the mention of Naruto's name.

"I-I'm not."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, then tell me why you're going out with Naruto, again, if he has not mentioned anything about what happened."

Hinata didn't want to seem rude, but she let go of Sakura's hand to push back her too-long bangs off of her forehead, "He needed some help picking out a gift for Lord Hokage-sama."

"Ah, yes. He did say he had his eye on something for Kaka—I mean lord sixth. God, baka, I keep forgetting."

"It's okay. I'm sure Lord Hokage doesn't mind. You were a part of his team."

Hinata said, recalling how uneasy the Sixth Hokage had been in the first place in regards to his new title and position.

"Yeah, but formalities are formalities. He's not just my sensei anymore, you know?"

Hinata nodded, "I understand, Sakura-chan."

"You always do," Sakura said, unintentionally rolling her eyes.

Hinata stiffened, wondering what she had done to insult her friend, "What does that mean?"

"If you keep being this understanding, you're never going to get anywhere."

Hinata understood, of course, she did. She and Sakura had spoken about this time and time again, but she didn't have the heart to fight her today. So she simply responded, "I don't know what you could possibly-", only to be cut off by the pink-haired girl.

"You know exactly what I mean, Hinata. Please, just talk to him. You mustered the courage to say something all that time ago. Why not again?"

"Because..."

"Because?"

Hinata avoided looking at Sakura's too intense stare and mumbled, "What if he rejects me? What if he didn't say anything because he really just wasn't interested."

"Oh, please."

"What?"

"He's interested."

"How could you be so sure?"

Sakura shrugged, "Sometimes you just know."

"And if he isn't?" Hinata asked.

Sakura jokingly drew her fist roughly to her hand, "Need I say anything else?"

Hinata gulped knowing Sakura's strength, "Please don't hurt him."

"If he doesn't hurt you, then I don't have to," Sakura said sweetly.

"Oh, Sakura-chan."

"Never mind me, let's go get that strawberry shortcake. I have to be back by noon, I promised Shizune I'd take over so she can take a break," She said, linking her arm through Hinata's and turning them both in the direction of the bakery.

Hinata chewed the side of her cheek, careful not to draw blood...again. She didn't know how'd she muster the courage once more, but Sakura was right. Something had to be done.

————————————————————-

Hinata arrived home within the hour, strawberry shortcake in hand. She had spent the better part of the morning in an inner debate, wondering whether or not she should once and for all just re-confess to Naruto.

"Oneechan?"

Hinata's head snapped up as she saw her younger sister walk into the kitchen, with the cake still in plain sight. Hinata quickly stepped in front of it, in hopes that Hanabi would not see it.

"H-hi!" She said, excitedly waving her hands.

Hanabi tilted her head slightly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just fine." Hinata leaned against the counter in hopes of looking more relaxed.

"Did you go out?"

"Yes. I ran into Sakura."

"Oh, that's nice."

"How was your training?" Hinata asked, not moving an inch.

"Fine. You know how it is with otousan. Can't even take a day off for my birthday."

"He only wants the-"

"Best for me. I know Onee-chan, I know," Hanabi finished with a sigh.

"Well, at least tonight we can all have dinner together," Hinata tried, with a smile.

Hanabi nodded and walked towards the water pitcher on the table, "Did you run into anyone else while you were out?"

"Oh, no. Just Sakura."

"Not Naruto?" She asked as she poured her glass of water.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Well, you two have been hanging out quite a bit."

"He's needed help with some things, you know?"

"I do. And I also think that considering you confessed to him-"

Hinata sighed, "Why does everyone keep saying that."

"Because you did it! You confessed to him!"

"Shhh! Otousan is going to hear, Hanabi."

"Oh, like he hasn't already. It's only been going around the entire village."

"No, it hasn't!"

Hanabi smirked, her violet eyes twinkling mischievously, "If you two are so close, why don't you just call him up and tell him you want to see him."

"Why would I do that?"

"So that you can confess to the stupid idiot again."

"Hanabi!"

"Hinata, please, the entire village is on edge waiting for you two to finally just get over yourselves and get it on with it."

"What!?"

"Just call him so we can cut the cake, please."

"You knew?" Hinata asked, looking behind her.

"Oh please," Hanabi said in her sweetest voice, "I knew you were getting it the moment you said you were going into town. Now please, call him and so you two can finally just get married."

"We're just friends!" Hinata said her pale face reddening.

"Right. Friends that are probably going to have babies together."

"Get out!"

"Cake? Soon?"

"Out, Hanabi!"

Hinata rubbed her temples as she avoided the general direction of the phone. She knew what she needed to do, it was as easy as picking up the phone and dialing a number.

"Just do it already!"

Hinata turned to see Hanabi peering at her from the doorway, "Fine!"

"I'm not leaving until you do it."

Hinata walked over to the phone on the wall, tentatively grabbed it, and slowly typed in the numbers she clearly knew by heart. It wasn't until Hanabi heard Naruto's unmistakable voice on the other line that she turned on her heel and left Hinata to make plans with him for the next day.

[loridrabbles]

Imprisoned | Dogma x Reader (Part 8)

(Y/n) finishes up her trial. Dogma'a mental state declines due to isolation.

     Dogma lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of the cell. It was empty, except for him, though he swore he heard people calling his name. In reality, the only things he could hear were the whir of the fan behind the bars in the ceiling, the drip from the leaky faucet in the refresher, and his own breathing. 

     (Y/n) was gone and he missed her. He missed her dearly. The time he spent alone was pure agony. He played checkers against himself, flipping the board each turn, thumbed through a couple books. He paced the room, fiddled with his fingers, and did nothing but wait. He didn't know what he was waiting for. Mostly just for the day to pass. 24 hours felt like days. 

     Time was taking a toll on his mind. When he'd close his eyes, he'd see things. He'd be in the barracks, trying to join a conversation, but he couldn't open his mouth. They'd wave their hands in his face, trying to wake him, but he couldn't. He'd be on the battlefield, standing, motionless, unable to breath as his brothers ran past him, screaming for him to move. He couldn't. He missed them. They never treated him well, but he'd take being the picked on out cast any day over complete solitude.

     Sometimes he'd be sitting on the cell bench, with (y/n) by his side, the both of them rambling on in a long, pointless conversation. He'd run his hand through her hair, but he could feel nothing at his fingertips. He missed her. The softness or her skin, the taste of her lips, the warmth of her body against his.

     He was going mad. The room spun and his heart palpitated in his chest. He wanted to scream. He fought it for so long. He fought it for weeks. Finally he gave up. A tear slipped from his eye as he sat on the edge of the bed. They began to pour down his face as he buried his head in his hands, sobbing to himself. He didn't want to be there anymore. He'd never follow through, he wouldn't be able too, but he knew he'd be better off dead. 

     Through his blurry vision, he saw a guard slide new towels and sheets under the door along with his dinner tray. He didn't want it. He trudged to the door, and grabbed the towels and sheets. He pulled the old ones off the bed and threw them by the door to he taken away. Once the bed was made, he grabbed the towels and climbed in the shower, hoping it would help him think more clearly.

     (Y/n)'s trial was up. 3 years and 5 years probation. She was happy to have received a sentence that was so short, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't hoping to hear life. She couldn't imagine leaving Dogma in that horrible place all by himself. She couldn't imagine how terrible the last few weeks had been. It was bad enough with just the two of them.

     As she left the court and entered the jail, the muzzle was places back on her head. As the was lead in chains through the prison, her heart jumped to her throat when the guards took her to the elevator that led to solitary. They would see eachother again.

     Dogma stepped out of the shower. He was mentally exhausted. His movements were slow and by the time he was dressed for bed in a tshirt and loose cotton shorts, the mirror had unfogged from the shower. He heard something. A door slam and some voices. He was hallucinating again. He picked up a little packet that held a razor and shaving cream. Making the shaving cream was hard. It was cheap, but he managed. He had to be extremely careful with the razor. It was made to prevent someone from hurting themselves or someone else. One wrong move and it would snap. It also dulled quickly, but luckily there were 3 in a package. It took him about a half hour, but he finally removed any stubble that had grown in, and shaped his hair how he liked. 

     (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. She stared blankly at the floor, thinking about everything that had happened the last few weeks. Kix, the trial, what Dogma might have gone through. She wanted to cry. The door to the refresher swung open. Dogma stepped out, staring at her, blinking a few times as if to make sure he wasn't seeing things again. 

     "(Y/n)." He said, his voice almost a whisper. He couldn't believe his eyes. Slowly, he walked to her as she stood. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes and she stood and rushed to collide with his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face into her hair, stroking it gently. Minutes passed before either of them spoke.

     "You're back." He whispered. "I was so worried. What happened?"

     "My trial. I got 3 years and 5 years probation."

     "Oh..." He sighed. "Well, I'm happy for you." He looked down at her and noticed she was still crying. He put his hands on her cheek. "What's the matter? Aren't you glad you'll be out of here soon?"

     "I saw Kix." She said. She took a seat on the bed, Dogma next to her. "He treated my wounds. He took the muzzle off to talk to me for a moment even though he wasn't supposed to. I told him what was going on. When he left the room, the guards beat him. I screamed for them to stop, but I-I think they k-killed him." She cried, burying her face in his chest as he tried to think of what to say. "I shouldn't have asked him. I didn't have to tell him."

     "Shhh. It's not your fault." He stroked her hair and squeezed her close to him. "He knew the consequences. Don't think about it. It's over with. There's nothing you can do. Besides, the 501st is going to wonder what happened to him right? They're going to find out."

     "You're right. There's no sense in making myself sick over it." She said, wiping her tears. Dogma used the sleeve of his shirt to help dry them away. "We're stuck here anyway."

     "Did you eat?" He asked.

     "Kinda. I haven't had much of an appetite."

     "Neither have I, since you left. I was starting to go mad from being alone for so long."

     "I can imagine. I was in our old cell so I was able to interact with others, but I dared not speak to anyone. The guards threatened to kill me if I talked to anyone about the trial."

     "Kriff. Well, if your hungry, they dropped off dinner an hour or so ago." He pointed to the tray that was set on the table. She walked to the bench and slouched on it, kicking off the loafers she had on. 

     "What did you do while I was gone?"

     "Paced. Read. Waited." He answered. 

     "Sounds fun." She answered sarcastically. "Up for a game of checkers?" She asked.

     "Yeah. What are the rules this time?" He joked.

     "Nothing. I just missed playing together." She smiled. They played a few rounds rather silently, just enjoying eachother's company. (Y/n) broke the silence with a question.

     "Ok. If you were trapped on a planet with only one person from the 501st, who would it be?"

     "Hmm. Probably Rex." He answered, moving his piece to be kinged. "He was always very kind to me. What about you."

     "Probably the same." She paused. "Wait a minute. You!" She laughed.

     "Well you're pretty much already doing that. If you were going to be trapped on a barren planet for a year, what 3 things would you bring with you?"

     "Hmmm. A copper pot. It can kill the bacteria in water and I can use it to cook. An axe or machete and a tarp. You?"

     "My blaster, a canteen to collect water, and a firestarter."

     "Oh I'd probably have to trade my tarp for a fire starter. I couldn't make a fire by hand for the life of me."

     "That's true. Of course I could probably use my blaster to start a fire. Then I could trade my firestarter for a tarp or bug net."

     "Ooh a bug net is a good idea. Hey if we ever get out of here, let's try to survive in the wilderness together with only 6 items."

     "Sounds like a plan. I think we could do it."

     "If you could only be on one planet for the rest of your life, which would it be?"

     "Hmm. Probably Coruscant. Surprisingly I'm not sick of it. There's so much of it I haven't explored yet. You?"

     "Naboo. There are cities but but there's forests and plains too. I couldn't live in a city forever."

     They talked and talked, catching up on the time together they had lost. They talked until their mouths went dry and stayed up so late their eyes stung with exhaustion. Finally, they caved in and went to bed.

     (Y/n) and Dogma were getting ready for the night when (y/n) felt a heavy trickling down her leg. She looked down to see a small puddle of blood at her feet.

     "No no no no." She gasped.

     "What?" He asked, fluffing his sheets.

     "I got my period." She said, tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill.

     "Oh dear."

     "Uhg this is so embarrassing." She said, hiding her face in her hands.

     "No it's not. Don't worry about it. Go clean yourself up. I'll take care of the floor. It's alright."

     The next 4 days were going to be difficult, but with a copious amount of cloths in her underwear and Dogma insisting she didn't have to be embarrassed, she'd make it. The clothes she'd use as pads, she kept and would rinse them out every night and swish them in the sink with soap.

     She had gotten used to an empty, cold room during her time away for thr trial. She hated it. She had been away from Dogma long enough and he was so close. Deciding she was done with being alone, she got out of her bed and walked to his. He was already asleep, facing the wall away from her. He had rolled over that way from his back, leaving enough room for her to squeeze in. She climbed under the covers, and wrapped her arm around him. He awoke slightly, finding her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. She buried her face in his back and took a deep sigh. She could still smell the shaving cream.

[klanceweek]

Red + Blue = Purple

submitted by autumn

Day 1

it’s my first fanfic/story, and it’s not as long as I would like but hope you enjoy!

--mod ana commenting real quick: i think i caught all the author notes for correction but if i’m wrong, please notify me thank you

Keith’s POV Yet again, we are fighting another Galra fleet. I can’t count how many we have defeated by now, and we have not had ONE break or relaxation time. It’s just been constant, eat, sleep, then fight. It’s like a never ending battle, which it basically is by this point. 

(More after the break!)

What gets me however- “Ring Ring! Schmoopsy poo! I’ve missed you!” - is Lance’s “girl friend.” “LANCE!” the team shouts for the umpteenth time. “Yeesh, sorry, I’m just talking to my girlfriend, no need to shout!” The first time it was fine, the second time inconvenient, the third annoying, and the twentieth time, in the middle of battle, is an major issue. 

“Lance, you need to tell your..girlfriend…to stop calling when we are fighting the Galra!” So please wait until we are back at the castle.“ Shiro replies clearly fed up with the whole situation.

Wait, did he say Schmoopsy poo? What the heck! I decide to voice my thoughts, “Schmoopsy poo, seriously Lance?”

“At least I have a girlfriend!” “Team! Focus! And Lance, hang up already!” They decide to form Voltron however they don’t even get a chance to fight because the Galra immediately flee when they see the giant robot. “Seriously!” Pidge exclaims,“We fight them for hours and they don’t even have the gal to finish the fight!?” “At least we can finally relax.” Hunk sighs. The lions head back to the castle. In the hanger everyone makes their way to the control room where Allura is waiting. They all head their, albeit very slowly, but eventually get there, whilst dragging their feet. They all have dark bags, frazzled hair, and look very worn out. Even the immaculate Lance looks tired. “Paladins, I’ve decided that we all need a break, so we won’t fight any more Galra unless it’s an emergency.” Allura states, looking quite worn herself. On cue, Lance’s girlfriend, cecilia, calls again. I head to my room intending to get some rest, when Lance bumps into my shoulder, too busy talking to Cecilia. I growl in annoyance and enter my room flopping on my bed. It feels like i’m sleeping in the clouds, maybe i’ll even get more than four hours of sleep. My eyelids start to get heavier and heavier, then bed swallowing me in it’s warm embrace, and blanket weighing me down further..“.lance…ove..ou….schmoo…”…ugh…I slowly start to wake up. The first thing I notice is that Lance is on the phone talking to someone. At 2 in the morning! Unfortunately, my room is right next to Lance’s, and he is talking so loud that I can hear him through the walls! I walk to his room and, politely, knock on the door,“Shut up Lance! Some people are trying to sleep!” Lance pokes his head out the door, whispering so he doesn’t bother the others, (yet he has no problem bothering me). “Shhh! I’m talking to Cecilia!” “And I’m trying to sleep!” “Then you should have thought of that before waking up, it’s not my problem, now shoo!” He waves his hand in a shooing motion. Something snaps… “Did you just…shoo me? Seriously! Are you fucking serious! I am so fed up with your shit! Why the hell are you even with her! You can’t possibly think it’ll last, she literally live on another fucking planet! Just break up already!” Keith yells. In hindsight he could have said it more nicely. “What do you know!” Lance shouts, “You have no right to tell me who I can or can’t date! I love her! Can’t you understand that?!” “This is not love, it’s just a little crush that is a burden to everyone.” Keith states calmly expecting Lance to understand. “What the fuck do you know! You’ve never loved anybody! You’re cold hearted and selfish! Hell, nobody loves or has ever loved you! That’s why  you’re an orphan!” Lance yells, then his eyes widen in horror as he realizes what he just said. He sees Keiths wide teary eyes, mouth slightly open in shock, looking at Lance in anguish. Keith lowers his head in acceptance, shadows covering his eyes as a tear slides down his pale cheek. Lance reaches out his hand feeling his insides twist in guilt, “Keith, I-” “You’re right, no one’s ever loved me, not even my parents.” Keith whispers, voice hoarse, then desperately runs off down the hall, tears trailing in his wake. “Wait, I’M…i’m…sorry…so sorry…i’m so so sorry.” Lance sinks to his knees leaning on the door frame. Eyes misty, he curls up and harshly tugs his hair in self-hatred. This is how Shiro finds Lance as he walks around the corner, probably hearing Lance and Keith earlier. Shiro kneels next to Lance features softening into understanding,. “If you need to talk about it, i’m here for you."After a small pause he asks, "Did you have a fight with Cecilia?” “No..I-I yelled at Keith and said..something…horrible. I don’t even know why!” “What did you fight about?” Shiro inquires softly. Lance quietly explains,“I think I woke Keith up and…a-and I yelled at him saying that he…h-he…he’s never been in a…relationship..so how could he understand!” Lance laughs hollowly, “What’s funny is that i’m not in a relationship, never was, I just….was jealous and I wanted him to feel jealous or something for once besides hate.” “Look, Lance, Keith doesn’t hate you, even now. He’s more sensitive than you know and doesn’t know how to interact well with others. He’s afraid of being rejected or hurt or hurting someone else, so he never even gives them a chance. But with Voltron, us, he’s finally opening up, and he has greater feelings for you than you know.” “Well, I just smashed those feelings into smithereens. I don’t know what to do Shiro, how can I possibly make up for what i’ve done? I told him nobody loves him, but I..I lied…I…what should I do?” “Well for starters we need to find him and you need to apologize and tell him how you feel.” Shiro starts standing up, taking Lance’s hand to help him up as well. “Okay,” Sniff,“I’ll do that, but where did he go?” Hunk and Pidge walk around the corner and see Lance and Shiro. “Hey guys, why are you up so late?” “Hunk, Pidge, can you help us find Keith, he’s very upset right now and i’m worried.” says Shiro “I saw him run down the hall a while ago.” Hunk yawns. “I’ll hack the cameras and see where he went.” Pidge states, pushing up their glasses. They watch on Pidges computer as Keith heads in a seemingly random direction, then enters a vent. The rest of the paladins decide to split up in order to cover more ground. Lance wanders aimlessly, thinking about his actions and where Keith could possibly have gone. Suddenly, he remembers one time Keith took him to the top of one of the towers saying how he sometimes goes there when he feels overwhelmed. The blue paladin sprints down halls ways trying to remember how to get to the tower. Finally, he finds a purple door painted with flowers. As he scales the long winding stair, Lance can’t help but think he feels like a knight rescuing a princess. He cracks a sardonic smile at that thought, he sure doesn’t act like a knight, and that is going to stop. He is going to admit his feeling, consequences be damned. Reaching the last step, he hesitates, then squares his shoulders and opens the door. He stands in awe of the beauty of the place. Purple flowers swaying without wind, petals floating on calm music with a tone of sadness.There, in the middle of the field, Keith is hunched over, head buried in his arms. The flowers almost glow around Keith giving him an ethereal beauty. However, Lance notices the shaking of Keith’s shoulders, and a chocked sob that wrenches at his soul. He has never seen Keith cry, and in his heart he resolves to make sure the red paladin never cries from sadness again. Lance slowly approaches, carefully avoiding crushing the flowers. He kneels behind Keith and reaches his arms around the black haired pilot, gently embracing him. Keith gasps as he snaps his head up towards Lance. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I don’t expect you to forgive me but, I wanted to tell you that people do love you. The whole team loves you Keith.” “How do I know you’re not lying. No one’s ever loved me before, as you said. How do I know you’re telling the truth?"Keith tries curling up tighter to distance himself from Lance. "Because Keith, I…I love you…more than a friend or brother…I love love you, I have for a while now, and i’m sorry I deceived everyone, but I was never in a relationship."Lance explains, wrapping his arms tighter around the other paladin. He can hear the others fast heart beat and erratic breathing. Lance sees how Keith’s eyes are red and puffy, but a glimmer of hope is there and Lance grasps the chance like a life line. He tilts Keith’s chin up, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Keith freezes in shock, then tears fall again and he kisses back with fervor. Lance brushes his tongue against Keith’s lips, and the later gasps allowing a deeper kiss. They stay there a while embracing the other surrounded in a field of purple flowers. They lay down and look up at the sky, stars reflect in Lance’s eyes as he softly grasps Keith’s hand. Feeling for the first time truly loved, Keith lets one more tear roll down his face, landing on the petal of a blue flower intertwined with a red. ~The End (sorry if it seems rushed or if somethings wrong, I wrote this in under 4 hours, although I have been planning this for a while. I also didnt edit it. I might go back and add much more some other time. Hope you enjoyed it though! I know I enjoyed some of the others!)

[sunflowerrichie]

writing prompts

129 one-line starter prompts:

1-35: sad

36-57: fun/funny

58-93: soft/cute

94-129: angry/joking

“is there something wrong with me?”

“i feel so fucking stupid.”

“it was your fault.”

“please, don’t go.”

“it’s never gonna happen.”

“i love you, but i can’t do this anymore.”

“he loved you a lot, you know.”

“i know you don’t want to see me anymore, but please, just listen.”

“i thought i lost you.”

“i let you down. how am i supposed to forgive myself for that?”

“let me help you with this. i owe you that.”

“i trusted you.”

“i can’t do this.”

“please talk to me.”

“i can’t trust you.”

“i need you, though.”

“i’m sorry, but no.”

“you love me, right?”

“i really need you.”

“i don’t love you.”

“i’m not doing this.”

“you don’t want me.”

“let me help you.”

“i don’t want this.”

“this was never right.”

“you look really tired.”

“please don’t leave me.”

“i need a place to stay.”

“where are you going?”

“hey, hey, calm down. they can’t hurt you anymore.”

“i will never forget about you.”

“i don’t love you anymore.”

“do you even care anymore? about me?”

“tell me that you need me.”

“say it and i’ll stay.”

“he yelled yeehaw and i’m not quite sure why.”

“they hide paper towels in their room and i don’t know why.”

“why are you listening to the icarly theme song?”

“how do we get in?”

“that’s my theme song.”

“you don’t need to know.”

“you call this cuddling? you’re choking me!”

“let’s pretend i didn’t see you do that.”

“i wuv you so mu-” “oh my god, are you drunk?”

“i have a dumb idea!” “i love dumb ideas!”

“woah, what happened while i was gone?”

“shhh, i’m hiding.”

“stop calling me cute!” “stop doing cute things!”

“well this has gone terribly wrong.”

“holy shit, i’m in the wrong car.”

“i forgot why i came downstairs.” “that’s because we’re all just a real life version of the sims and god just cancelled your action.” “oh shut up, i’m going back upstairs.”

“is that my shirt?”

“you’re a terrible cook.”

“i’m too sober for this.”

“no regrets.”

“stop being so cute.”

“run for it!”

“i would have stayed if you asked.”

“you know i’d do anything for you.”

“are you hurt?”

“you were sick 5 minutes ago.” “but i’m not sick now.”

“you know i didn’t mean that.”

“who cares if they saw?”

“please come with me.”

“what if i prove you wrong?”

“let me stay. please.”

“stay.”

“just come here.”

“all i was doing was looking for you.”

“how did it take me so long to realize?”

“it was always you.”

“just 5 more minutes.”

“your singing in the shower is amazing. please, don’t stop.”

“i wish we could stay here forever.”

“they can’t hurt you anymore.”

“oh my god, you're bleeding.”

“c-can you hold my hand?”

“you're so warm.”

“are you playing with my hair?”

“i have neither the time or the crayons to explain this.”

“the buddy system is very important. you may get lost. NOW GIVE ME YOUR HAND!”

“please, come with me.”

“you’re always number one.”

“i believe in you.”

“just stay with me.”

“you can trust me.”

“alright, i love you.”

“will you help me?”

“will you marry me?”

“wanna go out sometime?”

“i’m not wearing that.”

“sorry, were you sleeping?”

“i need you to stay here with me.”

“close your eyes and shut up.”

“get over it, pussy.”

“[person 1] YES!” “[person 2] NO!”

“no, playing video games together is not considered a date!”

“just TAKE THE JACKET!”

“put some clothes on already, jeez! we have company coming.”

“i’m FINE!”

“stop yelling and sit down already.”

“screw you!”

“HOLD MY HAND, GODDAMNIT!”

“i hate you!”

“i could never forgive you.”

“my rage cannot be stopped.”

“don’t talk to me like i’m a child.” “YOU WERE THROWING SCISSORS!”

“i’m a good person.” “if that were true, you wouldn’t be pointing a gun at me.”

“i won’t let you.”

“maybe i’m just crazy.”

“i’m not even sorry.”

“honestly, just stop it.”

“don’t be an ass.”

“who were you with?”

“don’t be fucking rude.”

“so it was you.”

“i need to go.”

“can you shut up?!”

“you’re such a bitch.”

“you think you're funny?”

“hey, i said stop!”

“are you fucking insane?!”

“i’m out of here.”

“you need to go.”

“you can’t just leave!”

“watch me.”

“that’s starting to get annoying.”

“why are you here?”

“i fucking hate everything about you.”

[namorres]

this time around, i’ll be better.

pairing | mayor damien x reader

requested? not on this platform

word count | 1,991

summary | he won’t make the same mistake again – he won’t break your heart again. he’ll be better this time around.

NOTE: this is for a different platform (wattpad) but i really liked it and felt like i should share it here, too. so if you follow me on wattpad and here, have a nice duplicate part. - ash :)

It used to be something meaningless.

You'd need a release, he'd need a distraction.

The two of you would meet up, maybe have a couple drinks, and then things would go from there.

There was only one problem now. You loved him.

His name was Damien, and he was the Mayor of a rather large town that had constant traffic economics and politics-wise. He rarely had a break, being the mayor of such a big city; days, nights, weekends, holidays were all spent signing bills, accepting plans, declining business deals. He truly never had an off day.

But on the rare occasion that he could slip away from it all, that he could distract himself for even just a night, you were there. He always called you after a rough day, voice hoarse and full of desperation, "Your place in an hour?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

You always accepted his calls because who were you to deny such things. He was simply something you loved to have, something you had become addicted to. He was your goddamn drug, and there was no rehab to pull away from it.

One night, when he came over, it went further than it ever had. Things were normal at first, drinks and then kissing and then everything else. But that night, that night he had whimpered and called out something you'd never ever think he'd call you.

He said baby, and he said your name with such want, such need. He called you love, and he called you beautiful. It was like an awakener, but you were more than positive that he wouldn't remember it the next morning.

So did you take it to heart? A little. Would you ever admit that? Nope.

That next morning, though, only made that cut deeper. You were in the middle of sleep and awake, and you could feel his fingers grazing across your cheekbones and you could hear his sigh of happiness. And as he got up, he placed a gentle kiss on your temple and then left without another word.

If that meant anything to him, he never said. And if that meant anything to you, you never said.

That was weeks ago, though. Weeks had passed and not a thing like that has happened again; he hasn't called you anything – not even your name, he hasn't stayed overnight. Hell, he's barely even stayed long enough to live in the moment. He just leaves within minutes of it happening.

Did it hurt? Absolutely. But you never said anything – that would only make things worse.

Tonight, you expected it to be no different.

He called, that same hoarse tone and those same semi-pleading words, "Your place in an hour?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

You knew you should've ended it weeks ago. Maybe you wouldn't be in this situation, maybe you wouldn't be trying to hold back from calling him baby and babe and Damien like you meant it.

When he finally showed up, you had already gotten the wine out, along with a couple glasses and a nice couple candles. Damien came in, without a word, passed by his wine glass, grabbed your arm and tugged you off the couch. You both headed toward your bedroom, and you thought that he was just desperate, that today had been rather awful.

You were right, but also wrong.

As you got to the bedroom, Damien simply shut the door and pushed you gently toward the bed. You landed on it softly, propped up on your elbows and watching as the mayor shrugged off his suit jacket, his shoes and his belt. Then he walked over to the front of the bed, laid down by the pillows and waved silently at you.

You, confused and still quiet, shimmied over to him and laid against his chest, hand resting over where his heart would be and eyes closing momentarily. Things were still silent for a while longer, just the feeling of Damien's warm hand on your arm, your hand on his heart and your head against his chest.

Then, the silence cracked and shattered at his whisper, "Thank you."

Your eyes opened and you looked at his feet, whispering back, "Thank you?"

"For everything," he replied, fingers beginning to brush against your arm. "Every time I call, you answer and accept. Every time I come over here, you always do exactly what I want, you always know what to do. So thank you, for just being there for me."

"Yeah, of course," you said quietly, looking up at him from his chest. "Do you just wanna sleep tonight? I've already got pajamas on."

He nodded silently, standing up and unbuttoning his shirt then his pants. In moments, he was left in his underwear and socks, enticing a giggle from you.

"What?" He laughed, turning around and looking at you with tired, happy eyes.

"Your socks," you said, pointing toward his feet.

"Yeah," he said, raising an eyebrow, "what of them?"

"Are you going to take them off?"

"You must let me get there, impatient grasshopper," he mocked, his slight accent peering through with his words.

You threw your hands up in surrender and smiled happily. Damien chuckled and toed his socks for a second before just pulling them off. By the time he turned around, you had already pulled the covers back and were lying on your side of the bed. He smiled lazily and shimmied in next to you, clicking the lamp off as he did so.

There was more silence, more shuffling, and then you two were comfortable against one another and under the big comforter. Not a word was uttered as the two of you drifted into sleep, and you realized then that silence was truly the one thing that made the two of you comfortable.

No awkward conversation, no dumb jokes, no weird conversation starters. Just quiet, peace, and mutual tiredness. It was truly serenity.

That following morning, you awoke to the feeling of a warm body next to yours and longer legs entangled with your own. You opened one eye lazily, peering up at the sleeping mayor and noticing the dark circles under his eyes. You felt bad for him – that kind of workload, that kind of stress, it isn't good for anyone. Damien was the kind of guy that handled it all, that let it all build up; he never got enough sleep, never let himself take a break until it was all that he could do to stay alive.

You sighed out and pressed your face more into his pec, softly kissing it then letting yourself drift off once more.

By the time you woke up again, Damien was awake, too. He still hadn't left his spot in bed, but now his hands were dancing over your skin and clutching you to him. You took a deep breath and shifted just a bit, feeling Damien's hands only grip you a little more. You smiled coyly, afraid of opening your eyes because you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Damien whispered, "I know you're awake."

"Shhh," you teased, laughing tiredly.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, accent more apparent than ever as his voice drawled.

"Good morning," you whispered.

"Yes, yes it is," he replied, leaning forward and kissing your temple.

A few moments passed before he said, "I love you, y/n."

Your eyes snapped open and you pushed up, looking at his smiling face, "What?"

"I love you," he said a little louder. "I really, really love you."

You just stared in shock, hand pressing against his chest and heart beating furiously. He had said it, he said it and he more than likely meant it. Of course he would mean it, but he could also not, and do like he had weeks ago. He could just leave you alone, just completely faze you out of his life again.

But, he wouldn't have been smiling, and he wouldn't have stayed the night like he did if he didn't mean it. He had to have. And here you were, probably scaring the shit out of him because you're just staring at him.

"Are you..." you paused, looking down at his lips, then your own hand, "are you sure?"

There was silence for a moment or two, and then he sat up, pulling your body up with his own. A soft hand pushed against your chin, lifting your head. Your eyes took a second to drift back to his chocolate ones, and in them, you saw sincerity and happiness. But, by the look on his face, there was also a little remorse.

"Of course I do, y/n," he said quietly, eyes bouncing between your own, "of course I do." He was quiet, eyes searching yours before he let them fall along with his hand.

"Damien," you said, properly situating yourself and pushing a bit away from the man, "you can't lie to me. You can't let this be a one-time thing you do, then pull the silence shit. You did that last time, and it practically crushed me."

Everything you were saying was the truth. It crushed you. It was like you'd lost a piece of your heart. What the two of you had wasn't even supposed to evolve into anything more than a "friends with benefits" situation. Now, here you are, questioning his love for you, even though all you've ever wanted for months now was to hear those words.

Your mind was at war as he stayed quiet even longer, as if he was questioning himself, too.

But this time, you were actually awake. You were staring straight at him – he couldn't hide behind the idea of you not knowing. Even though you did know, and he did try to act like he never did that. He was just afraid that if he got too close, everything would go to shit like it always did.

Then, after a few more seconds (which felt like hours) of sitting in silence, he looked up at you and cleared his throat. "I'm a mayor, I'm someone that always has to mean what they say, back up what they do. But I'm also a man. A man of his word, a man of his actions. I hold you because I mean it, I kiss you because I need it, I admire you because I want you, I call you because I love to hear your voice, I stay loyal to you – even if we aren't official – because I fucking love you. I.. I couldn't do any of this without you. So yes, I'm pretty damn sure I love you, I really," he smiled and breathed out for a second, "really love you."

You just stared in disbelief, processing his words and drinking in their meaning. Everything about his expression, his tone, it was all sincere. He meant it this time. He really meant it. Then, with no better word to say, you just whispered, "Good."

You slowly leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his and bringing your legs over his lap. His hands rested on your back and his eyes closed. Your hands then softly grasped his cheeks, fingertips grazing shaved parts of his soft hair. There were no words spoken, just a mutual understanding that this would go a lot farther, that this, what the two of you had, was no longer just a situationship.

You pressed your lips to his, letting them meld together as he reacted almost instantly. His hands gripped your hips just a bit tighter, and your body involuntarily pressed against his as much as possible.

Maybe there had always been something more than just a beneficial situation, maybe it just happened. No matter the truth of the situation, you could only hope that what you and Damien had would never end horribly. He was too good a man to hurt you that way, you just knew it.

[feelingdylano]

Hurts So Good (Stiles Romance Sequel) ~Chapter 9~

THIRD POV

The seventeen-year-old girl broke through the leather straps that had been holding her back as her eyes continued their deep red glow. The Nogitsune gave a satisfied smirk, keeping his dark gaze on her.

Soon enough, they both stepped out carefully through the grounds, the nephilim keeping her graceful pace a few steps ahead of the boy. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as the guards threw themselves in the way, attempting to stop the two teenagers from escaping the closed unit. Adelyn, the young nephilim, reacted with quick reflexes and grabbed one of the guards by the neck, twisting him by the arm and kicking him away from her body. The other guard stared at them, wide eyed before attempting to take a swing at the boy this time. Stiles, or preferably, the Nogitsune dodged the attack before grabbing a hold of his wrist and ultimately breaking it with a single motion, causing the guard to fall back in excruciating pain. Adelyn pushed through the double doors, leading the two of them out of Eichen House. But where exactly were they head?

ORIGINAL POV

“LET ME IN STILES!” The voice grew deeper. “LET. ME. IN. You let me in. I’ll let her live!” Stiles shut his eyes, tears streaming down his face as he continued to struggle. “Let me in!”

“Stiles! No! Don’t!” I cried out, attempting to pull away from Oliver’s grasp as I noticed him stop. The Nogitsune had disappeared and Stiles laid back, having had passed out. My eyes widened as I blinked once and he was gone. Stiles was gone.

My eyes flung open as I gasped and sat up, not realizing where I was or what had happened. Had I dreamt everything? Was it all just some horrible nightmare? Clutching at my sheets, I shut my eyes tightly as I felt a fresh wave of sobs suddenly escape my lips, not knowing exactly why I was crying.

“Adelyn!” my mother gasped, rushing into my room before throwing herself into me, holding me tightly. “When did you get here? What happened?” I gripped at the sleeves of her nightgown, continuing my sobs. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she whispered, running her hand down the back of my head, soothing me.

The surge of misery and emptiness hit me like a ton of bricks, causing me to continue shaking in grief. I was mentally breaking down. My own mind was starting to tear me apart with thoughts that seemed so long ago and distant.

Stiles was gone. And it was my fault. I didn’t stop him. Couldn’t stop him. I was partially to blame and I couldn’t help, but to feel empty. I missed him. His eyes, his voice, his laugh, his sarcastic comments; I missed everything about him. I missed my best friend.

Shutting my eyes, my own mind tried to comfort me by imagining that the one holding me in that moment was actually Stiles, but I knew better. He was gone. I had lost him to the Nogitsune and I had no idea how to get him back.

~

I kept my place on the couch, my eyes narrow as Scott continued to explain what they had found out in the time that I was gone. According to him and Allison, there’s a scroll that can be used to exorcise the Nogitsune. However, it’s not clear exactly how to do so. The instructions were vague, only stating that the body of the host must be changed in order to rid them of the evil spirit.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked, grimacing as he caught sight of my appearance. “You look like you’re getting worse.”

“I’m fine,” I whispered, not bothering to lift my gaze.

“Adelyn. I talked to Deaton,” he began, lowering his voice as he shuffled his way closer to me before kneeling down and taking a hold of my hand. “He has an idea, but we need you.” I kept my silence, resting my eyes on the coffee table just behind Scott, not wanting to make any sort of eye contact. “And it’s sort of tricky.” He paused, hoping to get some form of response from me, but after a minute of silence he continued.

“Deaton thinks that in order to break free of the Nogitsune’s hold, it should be you to…” he hesitated, not being able to finish. “Deaton thinks that it should be you to defeat him. You’re the only one advanced and powerful enough to subdue him.”

“You want me to kill him?” I whispered, finally landing my bloodshot gaze on him.

“No,” he quickly answered. “There has to be another way—”

“There isn’t,” my mother’s voice reached us from the doorway. “Adelyn, you have to kill him. Only you can.”

“I can’t,” I whispered, feeling my own tears build up again, pursing my lips slightly.

“Deaton said—”

“Deaton is too much of a soft-hearted person to tell his prodigy to kill his own best friend,” my mother cut him off. My eyes finally flickered down to the case she held onto in hand. “Your father died protecting this town. Protecting you. And I’m not about to let a teenage boy cause any more damage and take my daughter away.” She made her way toward the middle of the living room, placing the case over the coffee table and opening it up.

“I’ve kept this around,” she began, displaying the sword that laid neatly in between the cushioned red velvet. “It was your father’s. His preferred weapon of choice. He asked me to pass this down to you once you had earned your wings at eighteen, but considering the way things have been going in Beacon Hills, I think now would be a better time. It’s more commonly known as the Angel Blade, carried and wielded by angels and nephilim. It comes in different shapes and sizes. Your dad preferred the length of a sword, so—” She tossed it to me and without thinking about it, my hand instinctively grasped the hilt and wielded it with agility. Despite its metal hilt, the sword was light as a feather. Her eyes widened slightly seeming almost impressed as her lips curved. “It responds well with you. It is one of the few weapons with the ability to kill any supernatural creature. Including a Nogitsune.”

“I’m not killing him,” I muttered, placing the sword back into the case.

“Then you’d rather kill for him?” My mother seemed to spit out. I looked up to her my brows slightly merging.

“I’d rather save him than become a killer in the first place,” I muttered.

“Adelyn,” Scott called out, his eyes glued down to his phone screen. I turned to him, waiting for him to continue. “It’s Stiles. He was at the school.”

~

I ran at Scott’s side as we finally burst through the double doors and into the empty school hallway. My chest heaved up and down as we both came to an instant halt before the history classroom. Mrs. Yukimura kept a hand over her husband as he tried to calm his panicked breathing. My eyes flickered over to Kira who only turned to us and grimaced.

“What happened? Where is he?” I asked.

“He’s gone,” Kira shook her head slightly.

“Nearly choked me to death with a fly before he left,” Mr. Yukimura cleared his throat as he turned his attention to us.

“Stiles really did that?” Scott’s brows merged together.

“He wanted the last kaiken,” Mrs. Yukimura nodded, pulling out a small dagger knife and displaying it for us. “I’ve kept this near me ever since your friend disappeared.”

“Mom, you need to talk to us,” Kira stepped back, turning her attention to her mother. “About everything.” She pulled out an old picture. My brows furrowed as I looked over her shoulder, taking in the image. It was of a woman and a soldier, an ordinary picture, except that the woman looked exactly like Kira.

“Where did you get this?” Mrs. Yukimura asked as soon as Kira handed her the picture.

“Malia,” Scott answered, turning to me and then back to Mrs. Yukimura. “She found it at Eichen House. Along with—”

“This,” Kira finished off for him as she turned her back to us and retrieved a katana from a nearby desk.

“She said that her and Stiles found it with—”

“A body buried behind a wall,” I cut Scott off, my gaze lowering to the ground as I remembered. The alpha nodded.

“The same backwards five that the Oni put on all of us was on the wall,” Scott continued, looking up to Kira’s mom. “This all ties back to you guys, doesn’t it?”

“And the woman in the picture, it was Grandma, wasn’t it?” Kira asked.

“No,” Mrs. Yukimura breathed out, looking back down to the picture. “It’s me.”

“Wait, if that’s you, then you’d have to be like ninety years old,” Scott’s eyes widened.

“Try closer to nine-hundred,” Mrs. Yukimura seemed to smirk as she looked up to all of us.

“Okay, sure. Why not?” Kira breathed out, in shock, her eyes landing on her father. “Dad, how old are you?”

“Forty-three,” he responded. “But I’ve been told I look mid-thirty’s.”

Kira huffed as she turned back to her mother, hesitating for a moment before handing her the katana. We all watched as the woman took in a deep breath and held it in both hands gently before gripping the hilt and pulling it away from its safety cover. Kira flinched as small broken pieces scattered around her father’s desk top.

“The blade was shattered the last time it was used,” Mrs. Yukimura explained, placing the hilt over the desk.

“When was that?” Kira asked.

“Nineteen forty-three,” The woman sighed, turning her attention back to us. “Against a nogitsune.”

“So, then, this has all happened before?” I asked, my gaze squinting slightly as I looked up to them.

“Yes,” Mr. Yukimura nodded. “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

“Where did it come from?” Kira asked.

“It was an internment camp during World War II,” Mrs. Yukimura muttered. “In Oak Creek. Not too far from here.”

“Hold on,” Scott spoke up, turning to our history teacher. “When Allison came to you to interpret a mysterious voicemail that she received in Japanese, you told her and Isaac that there was no internment camp at Oak Creek.”

“Allison’s family has a certain history of violence,” Mr. Yukimura shook his head. “I didn’t know if she could be trusted.”

“Okay, point taken,” I spoke up, stepping toward them. “So, what does this have to do with the Nogitsune?”

“For starters, there was a camp,” Mr. Yukimura continued. “But all the records were erased.”

“They covered it up,” Mrs. Yukimura added.

“When I was a grad student,” her husband continued, tugging at his desk drawer and finally pulling out some pictures of his own, “my passion project. Actually, more like an obsession, was trying to dig up the truth on Oak Creek.” His eyes flickered back onto his wife. “It’s how I met your mother, Kira.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I muttered as I grabbed hold of the first picture. It displayed a man with severe burns all over his body, laying in a cot.

“Where did the Nogitsune come from?” Kira pressed on, turning back to her mother.

“Isn’t it obvious yet?” She breathed out. “It came from me.”

“How is that possible?” I asked, my brows merging as I looked to her.

She ignored my question as she began fumbling with the pieces, trying to put them together much like a puzzle.

“Kira, I need your help on this,” she said, looking up to her daughter. “There isn’t much time. And this is something that needs to be done in the daylight.”

Kira crossed her arms and looked away from her mother.

“Not until you tell us everything,” she muttered.

The woman hesitated before her husband sighed and spoke up.

“Tell them, Noshiko. Tell them what they need to know.”

Mrs. Yukimura’s gaze turned to Scott as she grimaced.

“Wolves and foxes tend not to get along,” she began. “Not just in fables and stories.”

“But allies, however unlikely, should be welcomed. Especially in times of war,” Mr. Yukimura said, turning to his wife. We all stood around as the woman began to explain her side of the story. Her forbidden love to a soldier and the struggles of being inside the internment camp.

“Okay, stop,” Kira shook her head. “Just stop. We don’t want to hear your Casablanca story. We want to know how to save Stiles.”

“I’m trying to tell you—”

“You’re trying to stall,” I glared toward the woman.

“When the sun goes down, the Oni are gonna come after him again, aren’t they?” the alpha asked.

“Your friend’s gone, Scott,” Mr. Yukimura shook his head.

“No, I don’t believe that,” I spoke up. “I know Stiles is in there somewhere.”

“You brought the Oni. Can you call them off?” Scott asked.

“It’s not his fault,” Kira defended.

“Stiles may be your best friend. He might be like a brother to you,” Her eyes fell from Scott onto me, a sadness behind them. “Or he may be to you what Rhys was to me. But he is long gone. And he is Nogitsune now. He is void.”

“Can you call them off?” Scott raised his voice.

“When you hear the rest of the story, you won’t want me to,” Mrs. Yukimura shook her head.

“I don’t care about what happened,” I felt my eyes start to burn and my hands balling into fists. “I don’t care if history is somehow repeating itself. What I care about is saving Stiles. If you can’t call off the Oni or if you can’t tell me how to save him without killing him, then I’ll find another way to do so. Even if it means I have to protect him from you.”

With that, I turned my back to the group and stormed my way out. However, before I could get far, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. Brows furrowing, I came to an instant stop as I looked down to the dimly lit screen.

Meeting at our house. Sheriff is asking for you. – Allison.

Taking in a shaky breath, I locked my screen and put my phone away before heading straight for my car.

~

“The Specialist I saw in LA told me the thing that every doctor says when he’s trying to avoid a lawsuit,” Mr. Stilinski breathed out as he stood before me, Derek, Allison, and Mr. Argent. “‘We can’t say for sure.’ And then I spoke with Melissa.”

My brows furrowed as I watched him pull out two copies of the MRI scans, displaying them separately before putting them together.

“These are brain scans. My wife’s and Stiles’,” He handed them to me as I looked over them. “I knew they were similar. But those are the same. Exactly the same.”

“And I’m guessing this isn’t possible?” Derek asked.

“No,” I shook my head, feeling a wave of relief. “It isn’t.”

He wasn’t dying.

“Not even remotely,” The sheriff added.

“So, the trickster is still playing tricks,” Mr. Argent shook his head.

“But why this trick?” Allison asked, looking up to Mr. Stilinski.

“When I was in the army, an officer told me, ‘If you want to defeat your enemy, you don’t take away their courage. You take away their hope.’” He responded, crossing his arms.

“You don’t look like a man who gives up hope easily,” Mr. Argent said, looking up to the sheriff. That’s when I understood what Mr. Stilinski was trying to get at.

“But Stiles might,” I breathed out, looking up to the hunter.

“That’s right,” The sheriff nodded. “If this thing inside him, if it’s using his mother’s disease as some sort of psychological trick, then this isn’t just a fight for his body. It’s also a fight for his mind. Right?”

“It sounds like something a Nogitsune would do,” I agreed.

“You know, he’s left people severely injured,” Mr. Argent muttered.

“And others severely dead,” Derek added.

“That’s why I need all of you. I need people who are experienced in this kind of thing,” Mr. Stilinski’s eyes flickered onto me. “Adelyn, I know you’re connected to him somehow. You—you were the only one who was able to find him last time. I…” He hesitated for a moment as his eyes narrowed for a second. “I need you to do that again. But I need all of you to help me stop him.”

I pressed my lips together as I looked down, feeling my stomach drop.

“So, by stop him, you mean trap him?” Mr. Argent asked. The sheriff turned back to the hunter, simply nodding with a sigh.

~

“How exactly are we going to go about even starting this?” I asked my best friend while Derek, Mr. Argent, and the sheriff talked amongst one another.

“Well,” Allison took in a deep breath as she made her way over to her dad’s desk and gripped at a bag. “We’ve already thought of something.”

I stepped my way closer to my best friend as she began pulling out some rope and cuffs. My brows raised as I turned to the sheriff, who finally took notice of our conversation.

“It’s all non-lethal,” she tried to assure.

“Okay, so what exactly is the plan here?” Mr. Stilinski asked, his expression seeming uneasy.

“Our best shot right now is for Derek to try and pick up Stiles’ scent at Eichen House,” Mr. Argent spoke up, stepping toward the desk. “Especially if he went through something stressful there—”

“He did,” I confirmed.

“Should all five of us be going to the same place?” Mr. Stilinski asked.

“Where else has Stiles been showing up?” Argent asked.

“The school and the hospital,” I muttered.

“Okay, hold on,” Derek spoke up, his brows furrowing. “We did this already. He disappeared. We started looking for him. Then walked right into a trap at the hospital.”

“He’s getting us to repeat the same moves,” Mr. Argent agreed.

“So, what do we do? Wait for him to come to us?” Allison asked.

“We can’t,” I shook my head. “Especially since Kira’s mom won’t call off the Oni. So, that means they’ll be going for him as soon as the sun goes down.”

“I thought Scott was working on that right now with Kira,” Allison muttered, her expression hardening as she turned to me. I pursed my lips as I stared back.

“It wasn’t going well while I was there,” I sighed.

“Then that’s the problem,” Argent shook his head. “We’re all trying to outfox the fox.”

There was a moment of silence as we all stared at one another.

“Listen,” Mr. Stilinski sighed heavily. “I’ll understand if anyone wants to back out.”

I grimaced as we all turned back to the sheriff.

“It wouldn’t be the first wolf to run from a fox,” Derek said, looking up to us before reaching for a weapon from the table.

“Dad, you and Derek hit Eichen House,” Allison spoke up as she grabbed some gear of her own. “I’ll stick with Adelyn and the sheriff. We’ll be in the hospital. And from there we’ll meet at the school.”

I grimaced slightly as Allison took hold of my hand and lead me out the door.

“Allison, wait,” I called out as I pulled away from her and stopped. My eyes flickered over to the sheriff, making sure he had gone through the door before I spoke again. “I—I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” Her brows knitted together.

“I was there when he took over, Allison,” I began, tears welling up in my eyes. “I saw it happen right before my eyes and I couldn’t even stop him. How am I supposed find him and do this if I couldn’t even—”

“It’s okay,” Allison cut me off as she gripped at my arms. “You care about him and you don’t want him to get hurt. If you had tried to stop him, it would have ended up badly. It’s not your fault. We’re dealing with a trickster. It’s not your fault.”

Our heads snapped up as we heard rapidly approaching footsteps. The sheriff pushed his body through the door, one hand gripping at the knob while the other held up his phone.

“Someone’s breaking into my house,” he panted. Our brows furrowed as we stared at him oddly. He looked down for a moment before stepping toward us and pulling up an app.

“After Stiles started sleepwalking, I had some security precautions put in,” he explained. “Motion sensors. Cameras. That sort of thing.”

“Is that his room?” Allison asked, squinting at the phone screen.

“It is,” I confirmed my heart beat picking up its pace as my stomach dropped.

On his bed, in broad daylight, sat the freckled-faced boy, his eyes seeming tired, but his expression as ominous as ever. He looked straight into the camera before holding up a hand and slowly waving, almost as if he knew we would be watching.

~

I sighed heavily in frustration as we all stood around Stiles’ room, having hit another dead end yet again. He was long gone before we had arrived.

“What is all this?” Mr. Argent asked as he approached the chest board set up at his desk. “What are these sticky notes for?”

“It’s what Stiles used to try and explain to the sheriff about all of us. Hunters and supernaturals alike,” I muttered, crossing my arms and finally making my way toward the group.

“Well, maybe it’s a message from Stiles,” Allison said, looking up to me. “The real Stiles.”

“You think there’s any reason my names on the king?” Derek asked, his eyes landing on the chest board while Argent picked up a fallen piece with a sticky note on it.

“Well, you’re heavily guarded,” Mr. Stilinski explained. “Though I guess the alarming detail is that, you’re one move from being in checkmate.”

“It’s not a message from Stiles,” Argent shook his head, his expression hardening as he dropped the piece back onto the board, finally revealing the name placed over it. Isaac. “It’s a threat from the Nogitsune.”

My eyes widened as I looked up to the sheriff, my eyes flashing for a moment as a cold shiver ran down my spine. I knew where he was.

“He’s at the loft,” I gasped.

“That’s what he was trying to tell us,” Allison uttered, turning to me.

“And he wants us to come there,” Argent nodded.

“Night’s falling,” Derek added.

“Which means we’re running out of time,” I spoke up, turning to the hunter.

“This couldn’t sound any more like a trap,” he continued.

“I don’t think it is,” Mr. Stilinski shook his head.

“I think your opinion might be slightly biased, Sheriff,” Argent sighed.

“It isn’t,” I defended. “He’s there. He’s lucid. I saw him for a second. He’s scared and confused. It isn’t a trap. I—I can feel it.”

“What if that’s what he’s making you believe—”

“Even if it’s a trick. What we’re dealing with here is basically someone who lacks motive,” The sheriff cut Argent off. “No rhyme, no reason, right?”

“Meaning what?” Allison’s father asked.

“Our enemy is not a killer,” Mr. Stilinski continued. “It’s a trickster. The killing is just a by-product.”

“If you’re trying to say it won’t kill us, I’m not feeling too confident about that,” Derek spoke up, crossing his arms.

“It won’t,” I shook my head. “The Nogitsune feeds off chaos and strife. Not death.”

“It wants irony,” The sheriff agreed. “It wants to play a trick. It wants a joke.” His lips curved slightly. “All we need to do is come up with a new punch line.”

“The sun is setting, Sheriff,” Argent said. “What do you have in mind?”

~

Pulling into the apartment complex, I was the first to run out and hurry my way up the stairs, hoping I wouldn’t be too late as the sun began to set even faster. Time was running out.

Reaching for the door, I slid it open with all the strength I had, taking notice of Stiles standing in the middle of the room, his back to me. As if he sensed me, he turned back slowly, his eyes seeming frightened and lost.

“Stiles…”

Chapter 8 / Chapter 10

(A/N: As promised I have posted this chapter in dedication to those of you who have stuck around this journey with Adelyn! A lot is about to go down in my personal life and this story has been my escape from daily life stress. So I hope you guys enjoy! And I’ll try and post the next part as soon as I can. As always, I apologize for any mistakes I have missed. And here’s a question for the next part... Should we trust Adelyn?)