“Fake a smile, you lie and say you’re better now than ever, and your life’s okay. Well it’s not. You’re doing all these things out of desperation. You’re going through six degrees of separation.”
When Derek and Stiles break up, Derek struggles to get his life back on track. And despite the best efforts of the pack, it’s not easy, and it probably can’t be done.
Pairing: Can be seen as Sterek, but could also not…if that makes sense.
A/N: Very short Demon!Stiles drabble. I’m obsessed with Demon!Stiles and I’ve been reading a lot of the fics lately. Thing is, I know absolutely nothing about demons. The only demons I know of are the “Charmed” kinds and that knowledge did absolutely nothing for me. So this is just my perception of what it would be like in the TW-verse.
TW: (Animal) Blood.
Stiles didn’t know what was happening to him. He had a faint idea, but he really, really hoped he was wrong.
A/N: Okay, so, this is complete crap, but the image of them having that “conversation” just would. not. leave. me. alone.
So, I present to you: 317 words of (really crappy) fluff.
Comment: Okay so, this is the first pure smut “fic” I’ve ever written. (It’s just a drabble really.) In which Jogan have a small argument and (sort of) angry sex ensues…okay, I’m gonna go hide under a rock now.
Preview of a Drarry fic I’m working on. Not sure about the angle I’m currently pursuing. It seems a bit stiff. And it’s my first Drarry fic so I’m kind of unfamiliar with writing for the ship. Thoughts?
This was all so mad. So completely mad. Everything about this situation was mad. It didn’t matter how many times Harry recited the word ‘mad’ in his mind. It was still completely mental. It had started slow. Them just nodding in the hallways. Then a faint smile here and there. Then talking. Neither of them really knew why. Maybe they were just bored of this childish bickering they had been doing since their first year. But after the talking, came laughing. Then secret meetings. Harry lurking around the castle in the middle of the night just to have a few minutes with him. They didn’t do anything of course. Not then. But it didn’t take long for the meetings to evolve into something rather different. It was all apparent in their day-to-day lives. If you looked closely, you might see it.
A faint brushing of skin when they walked past each other in the corridors. A finger stroking the back of a palm in potions. Lustful looks during meals in the Great Hall.
Then came the brushing of lips. Then came the biting of skin. Then came the bodies smashing into each other, both trying to please the other and causing pleasure without end.
Yes, it was all quite mad.
Short little drabble I wrote. Not sure if I’m going to write on and make it a full on story. I have the material, I just don’t know if it’ll be any good. Thoughts?
“What’s going to happen to her?” Reid asked, whispering so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping child.
“Garcia couldn’t find any family; she’ll be placed in immediate foster care,” Morgan sighed.
Spencer looked at the child in the hospital bed. Her blonde curls resting on the pillow. Bruised arms and cuts on her face. That psycho had done a real number on her. She would be scarred for the rest of her life, inside and out.
He thought about the future she would have. Only four years old, and already an orphan, already doomed. He knew the reality for foster kids. He had seen it time and time again. And the statistics said all he needed to know. People could say what they wanted to make themselves sleep better at night, but the fact still remained that foster care was hell.
“Unless someone takes her in first,” Reid said. Morgan looked confused. “What do you say, Derek?” Reid smiled, not taking his eyes off of the little girl.
“Spence, hold up. You can’t be serious?”
“Look at her, Derek. She’s gone through enough, you can’t pile on an everyday life where she goes ignored and not cared for properly.”
“Kid, listen, Garcia will work her magic and find a wonderful foster family for Molly. We can’t be parents.”
“Name one good reason why not. I love you, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, name one good reason why we can’t take in a child who needs us, and who needs to be loved? Because I can’t think of any.”
Morgan looked at Molly. He thought about the nightmares she would inevitably have, and he thought about rushing into her room at 3am to sooth her. He thought about Reid learning her math and reading. He smiled to himself, because Reid was right. He loved him, and he wanted to have a family with him, however unconventional this was, it was what he wanted. He knew there would be obstacles, and miles of paperwork. People would be against it, and they would have to prove themselves fit for parenting, but in the end…it would probably be worth it.
“Okay,” he said, brushing a curl away from Molly’s face. “Let’s do this.” He looked up at Reid with a warm smile, a smile that had a hint of fear and nervousness, but mostly love, and when Reid looked back, all doubt disappeared from Morgan’s mind, and he knew they would be happy.
“The boy is a servant, dispensable, but you, Arthur, you are the future king.” Uther Pendragon’s voice was steady and firm as he scolded his son.
“No! I forbid this from continuing, take this any further and he will be removed from Camelot.”
Arthur could feel his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He didn’t bother to give his father another glance. He stormed out of the room, heading for the courtyard. Merlin stumbled behind. “Arthur, what happened?” Arthur didn’t answer. Only the sound of pouring rain reminded him of where he was going. The practice dummy the knights had used earlier in the day. Merlin hadn’t removed it yet. The sound of the rain hitting his armor would usually annoy him, but his mind was elsewhere. He was so furious. Furious with his father, with his responsibilities and furious with himself for falling for that damn servant in the first place. He gripped his sword and in one furious motion he struck the dummy with as much force as his anger demanded. Merlin didn’t find himself wondering what Uther had said anymore. From the way Arthur applied one desperate blow to the other on the dummy; it was clear what he had said. It was clear that their relationship, whatever kind it had been, was over.
Arthur could feel his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He didn’t bother to give his father another glance. He stormed out of the room, heading for the courtyard. Merlin stumbled behind. “Arthur, what happened?”
Arthur didn’t answer. Only the sound of pouring rain reminded him of where he was going. The practice dummy the knights had used earlier in the day. Merlin hadn’t removed it yet.
The sound of the rain hitting his armor would usually annoy him, but his mind was elsewhere. He was so furious. Furious with his father, with his responsibilities and furious with himself for falling for that damn servant in the first place.
He gripped his sword and in one furious motion he struck the dummy with as much force as his anger demanded.
Merlin didn’t find himself wondering what Uther had said anymore. From the way Arthur applied one desperate blow to the other on the dummy; it was clear what he had said. It was clear that their relationship, whatever kind it had been, was over.
~ *Imagine Harry’s face a bit more bloated* ~
Draco panicked. He couldn’t think straight. He was scared, but worst of all; no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Harry.
He could feel his temperature rising, sweat starting to beam from his forehead. His father’s voice ringing in his ears, “But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!”
Draco knew it was Harry Potter. No matter how unrecognisable he was to the fellow death eaters in the room, Draco knew that the boy standing there, being examined by countless of eyes was the same boy he used to spend passionate nights with. That those eyes were the ones he could look into for hours without end. He knew those were the lips he used to kiss tenderly. He knew it was Harry.
His father kept talking but Draco wasn’t listening. All he could think of was Harry. He assembled all his courage to look at him. The pain in his eyes was clear. What was he supposed to do? Say no? Then both he and his family would surely die. Say yes? And have Harry killed at the hands of Voldemort?
Neither of the alternatives were bearable.
“Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?” His father’s words brought him back to reality. Draco walked closer to his father, carefully watching Harry. Panic struck him again as he realized they were all waiting for an answer. An answer he could not possibly bring without causing death to someone he loved.
“I don’t know,” he said, giving Harry one last painful glance before he walked back towards the fireplace where his mother was watching.
Jesse couldn’t believe how boring this whole thing was. He was sure that if it was possible to actually die of boredom, he would be long gone. He hated these interviews, he didn’t feel comfortable around that many people, all asking questions. He tried to stay focused on what was being said, but he figured that as long as no one said his name, he could be as out of it as he wanted.
He was thinking about where to eat for the evening when he felt something warm on his left hand. He looked down under the table where his hand was resting on his thigh.
He saw another hand resting on top of his own. Andrew’s hand. He stared at it for a moment, perplexed, before looking up and seeing Andrew smile back at him. They locked eyes for a moment, before Andrew turned his head because of something Justin had said a few spaces down, but he never let go of Jesse’s hand, and Jesse never looked away from the boy sitting next to him.
“Maybe this isn’t so boring after all…” he thought.